Callie said she wouldn't run. She promised she'd never leave.
Now, in the aftermath of Arizona's infidelity and venomous proposition to mutilate her body, she felt like her wife had pushed her out of a damn plane, and she was free falling without a parachute.
Struggling to breath, Callie's mind raced as she fled their angry confrontation for the nearest stair well.
Had her wife really betrayed their marriage vows with a practical stranger?
How could Arizona hate her so much?
Had her wife's recovery, following months of anger and depression, been all an act?
Had Arizona remained in their marriage for Sofia, had she stayed for fear of being alone?
Was their renewed intimacy so awful, Arizona needed to screw the first hot woman who smiled at her post- recovery?
Opening the door to the stairs while furiously wiping tears from her face, Callie tripped, falling hard to her knees on the landing.
Drawing deep breaths, she grabbed the railing and forced herself to stand-up.
Knowing the raging storm made even the short walk to her apartment dangerous, Callie resisted the urge to go up the stairs to collect Sofia and run.
Instead, she headed down, for the ER, where she knew the urgent need for her medical skills would keep her from crumbling, at least until it was safe to flee the hospital.
Some six hours later, exhausted and numb, Callie finally arrived at the day care for Sofia.
There, crying quietely on a make shift bed, was Arizona - her scrub clad body curled around their sleeping daughter, arms holding Sofia close to her chest.
Wordlessly, Callie grabbed their daughter's diaper bag, then gently sat on the cot's edge.
Seeing Callie's emotionless face, Arizona tightened her grip on Sofia and began to sob.
Ignoring her wife, Callie reached for their daughter, firmly lifting her from Arizona's arms.