One shoved me hard against the wall, and the sharp edge of a broken pipe tore into my arm. Blood was oozing out of it.
When they finally left, they left a message. "Tell Christopher this is just the beginning."
Then I dragged myself to the hospital, my body battered and my spirit broken. But the doctor’s words hit harder than any of the blows.
"You were about a month pregnant," he said softly, avoiding my eyes. "We couldn’t save the baby. The trauma… It was too much."
My eyes were fixed on the ceiling, numb.
Later that night, when I returned home, Christopher walked in with a bottle of expensive whiskey in one hand and a case in the other.
Most probably it contained cash or weapons from one of his deals.
Without delay, he tossed the case onto the table and loosened his tie. He barely glanced at me. The scent of smoke and blood clung to him. It was a constant reminder of the life he lived.
Meanwhile, I was sitting on the couch, my arm wrapped in bandages, my face pale. He didn’t even notice.
"Did you eat?" he asked sternly as he poured himself a drink.
I raised my bandaged hand and showed him the stitches. "The doctor said I need to avoid certain foods."
He knitted his eyebrows slightly. His gaze flickered to the bandage but didn't stop. "Then make something that suits you."
I nodded my head in agreement, taking out my phone to order something.
Seeing me act so detached, Christopher paused. At that moment, his glass was hovering mid-air. "Is your next check-up in three days? Do you need someone to go with you?"
No need," I replied flatly.
"Suit yourself," he muttered, taking the last sip from his glass.
Minutes later, his phone rang. The moment he saw the name on the screen. A small smile adorned the corner of his lips. The one for which I was craving for a long time.
Later, as I passed by the guest room, I heard his voice through the door.
"Don’t worry, Scarlett. This one’s on me. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow," he said, his tone warm and affectionate.
It was a tone I had never heard him use for me.
The only smiles Christopher had ever given me were mocking ones when he was angry. Other than that, he was always cold and distant.
But it didn’t matter anymore. I didn’t care. The next morning, I prepared breakfast for one.