Aries raises his arms to toss me a can of tomato soup like a softball when I feel a familiar paralyzing fear wash over me. I no longer see my loving husband’s face, his long brown hair, and his unkempt goatee and septum ring, but that of my ex-husband’s, with his features twisted in rage. The only move I make is to throw my arms up over my face to ward off the coming blow of the baseball he threw at my face.