The Monster Brings Flowers

Gwen

When I woke again, the sunlight was fading, slipping through the blinds in long golden lines. The room felt too clean, too white, too quiet. Somewhere, a clock ticked, steady and indifferent. My head ached, but my heart...my heart was worse.

Dr. Higgins’ words wouldn’t stop replaying. “Children don’t listen to what we say. They learn from what we live.” A nurse came in to check my vitals. Her eyes were kind but wary, the sort of look people give someone they pity. “Your husband called,” she said softly. “He’s on his way.” My stomach twisted. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.

It did not take long. Mason never made an entrance quietly. The door swung open, and in he walked, immaculate shirt, faint smell of cologne, a bunch of crimson roses in one hand and a white pastry box in the other. “Kitty,” he breathed, relief painting his voice. “Thank God you’re awake.”

He dropped the box on the side table and came to sit beside me, his eyes searching mine as if I were some fragile treasure. “You scared me,” he murmured, brushing my hair back. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, babe.” I stared at him, mute. The roses looked wrong against the antiseptic air, like blood drops in snow.

“I got your favorite,” he said, forcing a small smile. “Those little éclairs from the bakery you love. I had to drive across town for them. Thought maybe you’d want something sweet.” Sweet. The word made me want to laugh and cry at once.

“I’m sorry,” he said then, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for things to go that far. I just...” He rubbed his temples. “You know how work’s been. The pressure. And then you said those things, and I lost it. But you have to believe me, Gwen, I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

I looked down at my hands. The IV line tugged slightly as I shifted. “You did,” I whispered. He froze, his eyes flickering with something...anger? guilt?...before he forced another smile. “I know. I know, baby. But it kills me when you say it like that.” His hand found mine. “You know I love you more than anything. You and Kayla are my world.”

Love. That word again. It had become an open wound. He continued, words spilling faster, smoother and obviously practiced. “I already talked to Mother. She feels awful too. She said she only wanted to protect me, but she knows she crossed a line. She’ll apologize when we get home.” Home. The word made me colder.

Mason exhaled shakily. “I can’t lose you, Kitty. I know I messed up. I’ve been thinking...maybe we could start afresh? Take a trip, just us, when you’re better. Somewhere warm. I’ll even book that sea-view suite you liked.” He was smiling again, that boyish, heart-melting smile that once made me believe he was my savior.

“I lost the baby,” I said quietly. The smile faltered, just a fraction. “I know,” he murmured, looking away. “The doctor told me. I’m sorry, babe. I really am. But we’ll try again, okay? When you’re stronger. We’ll have a big family, like we always wanted.”

I stared at him, waiting for the grief to reach his eyes, but it never did. His expression was sorrowful, yes, but staged, like a mask he had worn too often. Dr. Higgins’ voice echoed in my head again. They stop when you leave, or when you’re gone for good.

Mason leaned closer. “You believe me, right?” My throat tightened. “I don’t know.” His smile faded completely. For a brief second, the gentleness vanished. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

I flinched before I could stop myself, and he noticed. Instantly, his expression softened again, practiced remorse sliding into place. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “See? I did it again. I hate that I scare you.” He took my hand, pressing it to his cheek. “Please, Gwen. Don’t give up on me. You’re all I have.”

That was his weapon, the plea, the trembling voice that made me forget the bruises. But somewhere beneath the ache and exhaustion, a small, stubborn voice stirred. He is not sorry. He’s resetting the game.

I thought of Kayla, her tiny frame shaking as she begged him to stop, the way she bit her lip until it bled because she wasn’t allowed to cry. “Is Kayla okay?” I asked. “Of course,” he said quickly. “She’s at home with Mother. Don’t worry, she misses you like crazy. She even drew you something. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

I wanted to believe him, but I could almost hear Dr. Higgins whispering...Children learn from what we live. Mason brushed his thumb across my knuckles. “Let’s not dwell on the past, yeah? We’ll be fine. We’ll move on. You’ll see, everything will be perfect.” He leaned in to kiss my forehead. His lips were soft, but my stomach clenched.

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll handle everything. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, okay? We’ll go home and make things right.” He stood, straightened his shirt, and gave me that polished smile one last time before leaving the room. The door clicked shut behind him.

Silence. The roses sat on the table, their red petals almost glowing against the pale wall. I reached out and touched one. Its thorn pricked my finger, and a bead of blood surfaced, bright and cruel. The sting grounded me more than anything else had all day.

In the window’s reflection, I caught a glimpse of myself, pale, hollow-eyed, and tired beyond belief. “You’re teaching her,” I whispered to the reflection. “You’re teaching Kayla how to stay silent.” Tears slipped down my cheeks.

Dr. Higgins’ warning echoed again: If you stay, the next time I see you might be in a body bag. I looked at the roses once more, their scent heavy and cloying, filling the sterile air. “Maybe next time,” I murmured, “I won’t wake up.”