He froze for a second, then his tone changed to gentler, “Hey, I know you’re mad at me. I get it. I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve noticed you fell too.” He took a deep breath, like he was struggling to hold himself together. “But thank God, you and the baby are both okay. I swear, Rosie, if anything happened to you two, I’d never forgive myself.”
I didn’t say a word.
He kept going, his voice shaking just enough to sound convincing. “Please don’t stay mad at me. I’ll do better, I promise. You mean everything to me.”
It sounded real. It always did. His words were soft, his eyes were full of guilt, his hands trembled like he was hurting too. Anyone else would’ve believed him.
But I didn’t.
Because I could still hear the echo of him calling her name first. Because I still remembered how he ran out carrying her while I bled on the floor.
“I’m tired,” I whispered, pulling my hand out of his.
I closed my eyes and turned my head away. I couldn’t keep pretending.
…..
FOR THE NEXT few days, he didn’t leave my side. He played the role perfectly.
He brought soup every morning, holding the spoon to my lips as if he was afraid I’d break. He followed me to every checkup, asking questions, nodding like a dutiful husband. When I shifted in my sleep, he was instantly awake, asking if I needed water, or another pillow, or his hand to hold.
Even the nurses started whispering. “You’re so lucky,” one said once when she thought I couldn’t hear. “Your husband really loves you.”
If only she knew.
I’d sit by the window sometimes, watching people walk outside... people who didn’t have to pretend. Dominic thought I was quiet because of hormones, so he got even sweeter. Always smiling. Always careful. Always pretending we were perfect.
When I was finally cleared to leave, he told me he had a surprise planned. His eyes lit up like he couldn’t wait to see me happy again.
But I didn’t feel anything. Just this cold, heavy emptiness in my chest.
I’d already lost everything that could be surprising.
….
He booked out an entire floor of the fanciest restaurant in the city just for me. No noise, no strangers but just us and a table full of food I couldn’t taste. He smiled the whole time, pouring my drink, cutting my steak, like we were the picture of some perfect marriage.