My Husband Made Me Host His Birthday Party with My Arm Broken – So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

“You’re being dramatic. It’s a couple of steps. I’ll do it.

Stop nagging.”

I went to bed angry and anxious, listening for the sound of the door opening.

It never did.

The next morning, I was running late for work. I’m right-handed, so I had my bag and coffee in my right hand, fumbling with the lock with my left.

I opened the door, stepped onto the top step, and my foot hit pure ice.

There was no time to grab the railing.

My feet flew out from beneath me. My elbow smashed into the step, and my whole weight crashed down on my right arm.

I heard a crack.

The pain was bright and hot and immediate.

I couldn’t even catch my breath. Then I screamed.

Our neighbor, Mrs. Patel, ran out in her robe.

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