Everyone has a subject they’re hesitant to discuss with their significant other.

It was usually heavy topics that left one feeling pried open or dark secrets that brought forth shame.

You, on the other hand, had to be careful about something much more innocuous around your girlfriend, Angela.

You knew what you were signing up for when you accepted a date with a woman who came into your operating room with several gunshot wounds.

Her dogged insistence that she fell in love with you after hearing your voice during surgery broke through all the defenses you had built against patients.

You didn’t realize back then that meant giving up one of your favorite vices: complaining.

Angela perks up like a giant Golden Retriever when you arrive and you can almost forget that she’s really a Caucasian Shepherdess: Russian, big, and powerful.

It only takes her a second to sniff out the tension in your spine as her arms wrap you in a crushing hug, frowning at the signs of fatigue you try to conceal.

“What’s the matter, love?”

Her soft tone is nothing more than a lure, the caress of her fingers against your cheek is the bait; she desperately wants you to vent your frustrations to her.

'I just want to help you, Bunny,' he’ll coo if you say it’s nothing. 'Tell me what’s bothering you, please.'

You can only hope being vague will circumvent any bloodshed.

“Work has been… awful lately,” you confess.

Angela’s brow furrows as she ignores the indignation she feels at the thought of you experiencing any hardship.

She couldn’t help you save lives, her hands were stained with too much blood for that, but she could make things easier for you by clearing any obstacles from your path.

“You need me to shoot anyone?” She asks just in case, tilting your face to hold her dark gaze.