Trailing behind him was Riley, dressed in a striking red gown, its brilliance too much for the cold, sterile hospital room.
That dress had been my birthday gift this year.
The dress I’d never worn, not once.
She had a habit of taking whatever she wanted from me, never once bothering to ask for permission.
"Are you feeling better?" Vernon asked.
"Hmm."
"You lost the baby, but you can always try again. Though you're already twenty-nine, it might be a bit harder."
Riley clung to Vernon’s arm, pressing herself against him.
I turned away, pretending she wasn’t there.
"Eloise, that’s enough. Stop sulking like the world owes you something," Vernon snapped, his voice sharp.
"Exactly! Vernon and I came all this way to see you, yet you can’t even look at us. Are you blaming us?"
"You didn’t take care of yourself, and you lost the baby. That’s on you!" Riley sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.
"If you hadn’t locked me in that dark room last night, would I have lost my child?" I shot back, my voice weak with exhaustion.
"I begged you both. I bled so much. If someone had just opened the door, even for a second, I wouldn’t have..."
I choked on my words, unable to finish. My voice trembled, swallowed by the weariness of it all.
“That’s because you’ve been taking too many painkillers! Riley was only trying to look out for you. Last night was just an accident.”
Vernon quickly leaped to her defense, his voice defensive.
“Is she more qualified than a doctor? Did the doctor ever tell me not to take painkillers? Should I have just suffered and died from the pain instead?”
I could no longer hold back the bitterness that had been building in my chest. My voice cracked, and I let out a hoarse, desperate scream.
“Alright, alright,” Vernon said, his tone softer now like he was trying to placate me. “I know you’re upset after the miscarriage, so I won’t argue with you. Get some rest. I’ll come back another day.”
With that, Vernon turned to leave, dragging Riley along with him. He always did this; whenever he stirred up my emotions, he would quickly change the subject and walk away, leaving me alone with this suffocating frustration as if I were punching into cotton.
It felt like a dull blade cutting into my skin, constant, relentless pain that never quite killed me, but it kept me bleeding, little by little.
Not long after, I received a video from Riley.