He Meant the Blade, I Wielded It

Synopsis

It was Valentine's Day when a thug burst into the emergency room and pressed a blade against my throat. Things were getting desperate, so the police got in touch with my husband, Matthew Carter. Through the speaker, I heard him yell, his voice dripping with impatience, "Avery, are you insane? You'd really fake a police call just to check up on me? I'm at Jessica's prenatal appointment. I don't have time for your little games." The officer said, "Mr. Carter, this is the police. Your wife is being held hostage for real." Matthew said, "Then let them kill her. That'll make room for Jessica's baby, and I won't even have to bother with a divorce." A beep, and the line went dead. Even the thug was stunned for a second, and his grip on the knife loosened. "Lady, your husband's a total piece of work," he mumbled. I wiped my tears, and while he was still caught off guard, I spun around, yanked the knife out of his hand, and drove it into his thigh. I wasn't that weepy nurse I used to be. I was a surgeon now, someone who handled a scalpel every single day. After I tended to my wound, I sent Matthew a text: [Sorry to break it to you, but your plan to become a widower just failed. So, are you ready to walk away with absolutely nothing?]