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trash?”
    “No, it doesn’t, and I’m so sorry, baby.” He hadn’t called me “baby” in well over a year and I knew the only reason that he was doing it now was because he felt guilty. I sat up and had to catch my breath from the pain shooting up my spine.
    He went to hand me the coffee and I put my hand up. “I don’t want it.”
    I got up as quickly as my aching body would allow. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. I cringed when I heard him getting up and walking into the kitchen behind me. I tried my best to ignore him as I stretched to reach for the Advil in the cabinet. Every move I made took my breath away. He reached around me and grabbed the bottle with ease. I snatched it from his hand, unable to even look at him. My anger only intensified when I looked down at the bruising on my wrist. Thankfully, I was off for the next two days so I was hoping that my back would be feeling a little better by then. I knew that the bruising would still be on my wrist, and that was going to be a hard one to explain to everyone at work.
    “I want to take you out to dinner tonight. Anywhere you want. I’ll make the reservations,” he said.
    I nearly choked on the sip of water that I had just taken. “You are unbelievable, you know that?! I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I can hardly walk, my wrist is all black-and-blue, and you think that a cup of coffee and a ‘sorry’ are just going to make up for that?”
    “Gabby, please. You know how I get when I drink scotch. I’m sorry, baby.”
    “Don’t ever call me that again!” I shouted.
    I went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I carefully lowered my aching body onto the lidded toilet seat, where I was planning on staying until he left for work. Tears rolled down my face just thinking about the situation I was in, knowing that I had nowhere and nobody else to turn to. I looked down at my feet and clicked my heels together, remembering how my dad would tell me to do that when things seemed too tough to handle and repeat, “There’s no place like home”, just like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz . The only problem with that was this was my home and it was the last place in the world I wanted to be.
     

 

     
    Three weeks had passed. The doctor assured me that I would have another week at the most in this place, and I was holding him to his word. Gabby had become my angel through all of this. She was the one and only thing that I looked forward to each day. I could tell that something had been bothering her over these past few weeks. As hard as she tried, she couldn't disguise the sadness in those beautiful brown eyes of hers. She really didn't speak much about her personal life. She seemed more content hearing about mine. 
    I had just gotten done with physical therapy when I looked up to find Delia entering my room. “Hey there, handsome. Is your phone broken? I've been texting you like crazy.”
    I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn't going to lie, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings with the truth, which was that I didn't text her back because I didn't feel like talking to her.
    She ran her hand along the side of my face. “You know, we've got a lot of catching up to do when you get out of here. I’m so sorry about the way we left things the last time we were together. I want to make it up to you.” She smiled.
    Relief swept over me when Gabby walked in with a bag of medication. “Gabby, are you ready to do the dressing change now?” I pleaded, hoping that she would pick up on it.
    “Oh, not un -.” My eyes widened and, thankfully, she finally got it. “Oh, you know, actually, yes. I'm not going to have time later so now would be great.”
    “Yeah, okay. Let’s get it over with.”
    “I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave while I do this,” Gabby said to Delia.
    Delia let out a deep breath of frustration. “Are you serious?” Gabby raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Well, what’s the big deal if I just sit here and