I pressed an ice pack to the bruise my husband left on my jaw last night, and this morning he set a makeup bag in my lap saying, “Fix your face—my mom’s coming for lunch, and you will smile.”

Two days later, I was in the kitchen making tea when I heard it.

A soft jiggling of the front door handle.

I froze.

The tea kettle whistled, loud and sharp, and I almost screamed.

I tiptoed to the entryway, grabbing my phone off the table. I opened the security camera app.

Daniel was on the porch.

He was drunk. I could tell by the way he was swaying, leaning against the doorframe for support. He was holding a crumpled bouquet of dead roses in one hand, his other hand fumbling with the doorknob. His face was pale, his eyes red, his clothes wrinkled like he’d slept in them for a week.

He was violating the restraining order.

I hit the silent panic button on my phone, linked directly to the local police department. Then I backed into the pantry, closing the door behind me, leaving it cracked just enough to see.

I held my breath.

Daniel banged on the door once. Soft. Then again, harder.

“Baby?” he called. His voice was slurred, thick with tears. “Baby, please open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see your car in the driveway. Please. I just want to talk. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

I didn’t move.

“I made a mistake,” he yelled, his voice breaking. “It was all Gloria’s fault! She made me do it! She made me cheat! She made me take your things! She told me if I didn’t, she’d disown me! I was scared! I’m just a stupid kid who listened to his mom! Please, baby, forgive me! Take me back! I’ll be better! I’ll never let her near you again! I’ll get a job! I’ll do all the cooking! All the cleaning! Anything you want! Just please don’t make me live without you!”

He started crying. Loud, heaving sobs that shook his whole body. He slid down the door until he was sitting on the porch step, his head in his hands, the dead roses lying in the dirt next to him.

“I love you,” he whispered, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. “I’ve always loved you. You’re the only good thing that ever happened to me. And I ruined it. I ruined everything.”

I heard sirens in the distance. Getting closer.

Daniel heard them too.

He stood up fast, swaying, and looked down the street. He saw the red and blue lights flashing around the corner.

He panicked.

He ran to the side of the house, toward the back gate, tripping over the garden hose and falling into the rose bush I’d planted the summer before. He screamed as the thorns tore at his arms and face, then scrambled up, trying to climb the back fence.

The cops pulled into the driveway. Two officers. One was Sergeant Miller, the same one who’d dealt with Gloria the week before.

They saw Daniel trying to climb the fence.

“STOP!” Sergeant Miller yelled, drawing her Taser. “HANDS IN THE AIR! NOW!”

Daniel froze. He turned around slowly, his hands up, his face covered in scratches and blood from the rose bush.

“I didn’t do anything!” he yelled. “I was just walking by! I live in the neighborhood! You can’t arrest me—”

“Daniel Reed,” Sergeant Miller said, walking up to him and snapping the cuffs on his wrists, “you are under arrest for violating a permanent restraining order, trespassing on private property, and public intoxication. You have the right to remain silent…”

She read him his rights as she led him to the patrol car. He looked over at the house, right at the window where I was standing, and yelled my name.

“I LOVE YOU! I’LL NEVER STOP LOVING YOU! WE’LL BE TOGETHER AGAIN! I PROMISE!”

The officer pushed him into the back of the car and closed the door. His voice was muffled, but I could still hear him screaming, crying, begging.

Sergeant Miller walked up to the front door. I opened it, my hands still shaking.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. Thank you.”

“We found a pocket knife in his jacket pocket,” she said. “Small one. Folding. Not deadly, but enough to be dangerous. We’re adding carrying a concealed weapon to the charges. His bail will be set at $25,000. With his record, he won’t be able to pay it. He’ll be in jail at least until the hearing next week.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

“Thank you,” I said again.

She nodded, then walked back to her car.

I closed the door, locked it, and slid down to the floor, my back against the wood.

I closed my eyes.