She tripped, hitting one of the other tables. It had knocked the wind out of her and bruised her arms in the process. But she did not allow him to pull her down, she held her ground. She used her heel to kick him in the face so he would let her go.

"F@*&!" he screamed as she got him in the arm, releasing her from his hold. She ran out the door without looking back.

Dimitri would not able to pick her up that afternoon due to a late meeting and had told her earlier that he would just send a driver to pick her up. Without taking her cellphone and her purse with her she ran for dear life, clutching her coat together, praying that the driver was waiting for her outside, as Dimitri had instructed.

"Good Evening Madam!" the driver said, "Mr. Santoris will join you for dinner later tonight."

"Go, please just go… we have to leave," she said to the driver frantically. She looked behind her as he careened out of the hospital, making sure nobody was following them as they headed home.

The driver was concerned and had wanted to ask her if she was okay when he saw her bloodied coat, messy hair, and wide-eyed look, but he did not want to upset her even more. His job was to keep the boss' wife safe and bring her home, so that's what he was going to do.

She ran to her room as soon as she got to the house, she did not want anybody to see her and have to explain what happened. She didn't notice her mother-in-law walking from the kitchen to greet her or the maids that were cleaning around the house. She had one goal and that was to get to their bedroom and hopefully escape and get ready before Dimitri arrived.

Fear and hate had her shaking when she remembered how she impaled that doctor with the scissors on his neck. Even though she hated what he did to her, she still hoped that nothing vital was damaged. She feared that she might have killed him and would have to be taken to prison.

When she was done feeling scared, she started feeling ashamed. "How could I have let something like this happen to me? Did I do anything to encourage him? How could I have let him touch me?" she told herself as she stood under the shower, trying to erase the memory of his filthy hands touching her backside, his groin grinding against her pelvis, and his hands on her breasts. Places only Dimitri had access to had been defiled by that filthy animal. She felt so dirty, so she kept on scrubbing and scrubbing her skin until she felt raw.

Dimitri was concerned when he came home, the driver had reported Aurora's behavior and appearance earlier as she got in the car, then his mother had stopped him by the stairs to tell him to check on his wife.

"There's something wrong with Aurora. She came running into the house and didn't even bother to say hello to anyone, not even your son. I tried to check on her, but she had not been out of the shower since she came back from work. She wouldn't even talk to anybody," his mother said.

"Aurora! Aurora!" Dimitri banged the door. She was not responding.

"I'm coming in," he announced while he was fiddling with the spare key so he could let himself in.

She was sitting under the cold shower, with her arms wrapped around her knees, shivering.

"What is happening? Why did you lock yourself in?" he asked as he rushed towards her.

She didn't bother to look up. It was like she didn't even know he was there. He turned off the shower, surprised that she was taking a cold one. They said she had been in there for an hour now, which means that the water had already run cold, and yet she didn't even bother to get out.

He took a big fluffy towel and wrapped it around her before he carried her out of the shower.

"What's got into you? The water had already run cold, why were you still sitting there? Are you trying to get sick?" he scolded as he dried her up and wrapped her in a bathrobe.

"Honey?" His hands were on either side of her cheek, waiting for her to respond, and all she could give him was a blank stare, her eyes were lifeless. Gone was the feisty Aurora that always greeted him when he got this close. This had him worried.

He made her sit on the vanity as he blow-dried her hair. "Sweetheart, why are you acting like this? We both know something is wrong. Most days you won't even let me shower with you, but now you're letting me dry your hair."

She just sat there quietly, with her head bowed down, and as he lifted her chin, he saw that she had been crying. Her eyes were filled with tears, and as her tears streamed down her face it seemed like she wasn't going to stop any time soon.

He sat her in his lap and started kissing her tear-streaked face. "Sweetheart, what happened? Tell me, who made you cry?" asking in a soft tone.

She started weeping as she buried her head in his shoulder. She felt so weak, defiled, and so dirty altogether that she could not stop the wails coming out from her mouth.

"Shh... Sweetheart, please tell me. Did someone die? Was it a patient? Do you feel bad for someone?" he asked as he rubbed her back, "What is it? I bet you did everything you could to save them."

But she cried even louder and tightened her arms around his neck. So he just embraced her, rubbing her back, and decided to give her time to cool down. Sooner or later, she would have no more tears, and he would get the truth out of her.