No Longer Her Wounded Puppy

The last thing I remembered was the cold concrete against my cheek and the metallic taste of my own blood.

Above the ringing in my ears, I heard Olivia, my wife, screaming, not for me, but for Ethan, her charming assistant.

I had pushed her out of the way of falling scaffolding, saving her life, only for a steel pipe to crush mine; a minor gash on Ethan' s forehead was treated like a mortal wound while my entire life drained away.

As paramedics rushed Ethan onto a stretcher, my vision blurred, and the brutal truth crystallized: all my sacrifices, years working to support her dreams, meant…