Chapter 4
I did not go to a friend first.
I went to urgent care.
That choice mattered.
For years, I had treated Derek’s behavior like a marital problem.
Something to manage.
Explain.
Survive.
That day, I treated it like evidence.
The nurse at the clinic looked at my dress, my cheek, and the way I held myself, then lowered her voice.
“Did someone do this to you?”
I almost said no.
The old answer rose automatically.
No, it was an accident.
No, we argued.
No, he didn’t mean it.
No, it looks worse than it is.
Instead, I heard Derek again.
Look what you made me do.
And I said, “Yes.”
The nurse’s expression did not change dramatically.
That helped.
She did not make me feel like a spectacle.
She documented the redness, the small scratches, the coffee stains, the emotional state I tried to hide.
A physician examined me and explained everything in careful, non-graphic terms.
Then came the folder.
Thick.
Printed.
Stamped.
A medical report that turned pain into a record no one in Derek’s family could laugh away.
When the officer arrived to take my statement, I expected shame.
Instead, I felt tired.
So tired I could barely lift my head.
Officer Grant Miller listened without interrupting.
Officer Owen Price asked whether Derek had access to weapons.
Whether he had keys.
Whether I had somewhere safe to go.
I answered each question.
Then I said something that surprised even me.
“I need to return to the apartment.”
Officer Miller frowned.
“For belongings?”
“No.”
I looked at the ring on my finger.
“For the end.”
They did not let me go alone.
By the time we arrived, my assistant had already removed my work laptop, client files, passport, jewelry, backup drives, and safe documents.
Derek had not noticed.
He was too busy being angry about the police.
That was always his weakness.
May you like
He watched his pride more closely than the truth.
Read the full story 👉 Skylar turned her injury into documentation before returning to the apartment with officers and a plan.
