In some worlds to come home smelling of another man would rock the foundation of a relationship.

In my world, it starts with a text message - I got in a fight but I'm ok.

It is followed with a phone call, speaker phone shut off so the kids don't hear the details. A promise to come home on time.

Another text later, when you're supposed to be there, saying you must come home.  Your place is here tonight for there are small ones that need you.

An embrace at the front door before heading straight to the shower.  Acknowledgement that violence is intimate, and when you are wrapped up in such a violent embrace you will carry the smell of another's fear in your hair, on your uniform.

Until you wash it away and take your place.  Here, at home, because your work out there is done for the day.