By the time I was discharged from the hospital the next morning, Damian had turned into a robot.

A polite, professional, maddening robot.

He drove me home in complete silence—well, not silence, the man had the audacity to turn on the traffic updates radio station—then dropped me off with a stiff “Rest.”

No hug.

No comforting hand.

Not even a smile.

He didn’t even wait to see if I made it inside the building before driving off.

The next day at work was worse.

Much worse.

I ...