One last fight was all it took for your partner’s fist to connect with your face. You find yourself packing your bag with enough clothes for a few days and practically sprinting to your car. You immediately drive to your best friend’s place where he was staying on leave. You show up uninvited, but definitely not unwanted. Gaz meets you at the door, seeing the bruises that had started to form on your cheek.

“Babydoll, what happened to you?” He asks, voice dripping with concern.