You walk into his office, trying to hide your face. You’re sure your mascara was smudged.

"Hey I know I'm late. Running errands took longer than what I thought."

You tell your boss, trying not to let him see you cry. You feel a hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He looks around your face, no doubt taking in your now swollen bruise.

"Who did this to you?" He demands.

"I'm okay, sorry I'm late-"

"I don't care if you're late, I want to know what the f*ck happened."