The Good Wife

06

The thing about heartache is that it never really heals, it can be forgotten, it can be ignored, but it never leaves. It stays there, one scratch and it throbs with every heartbeat.

What Pariston did yesterday didn't scratch her wounds, it ripped them open. Raw and bloody.

Amber winced, opening her heavy eyes as a strong headache hit her immediately. She clutched her head, feeling her blurry vision slowly settle in.

She pushed the covers off her, stepping out of bed with wobbly legs. She clutched the furniture, dragging herself to the bathroom as her head grew heavier with each step.

She let's out a loud whimper, stumbling back as her knees give out. She falls back onto the bed, wincing in pain.

"You're awake." Pariston says.

Amber whimpers, crawling further away on the bed as she spots him leaning against the doorframe, smiling at her.

"Good morning, sunshine." He says, placing the tray of food on the bed.

"Breakfast in bed?" He questions.

She hugs the pillow, trembling as he casually sat there, preparing her plate.

"I want to pee." Amber whispers after a while.

Pariston nods, scooping her in his arms as he walks into the bathroom. He steps back, turning away, awarding her some privacy.

He helps her stand up, helping her to the counter as she washes her hands. Waves of dizziness washes over her weak body as she leans onto him for support. The hazy pain seems to evaporate into thin air when Amber catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She pants loudly, struggling to catch her breath as she looks at her face. Half of her face had taken a violet shade. Patches of blue, maroon and yellow ran across her face. The shape of the boot's sole was imprinted on her cheek.

Amber stumbles back, gasping and sobbing in disbelief. Pariston ignores her, as he grabs a towel, helping her dry her hands before he picks her up, walking out.

"You're a monster." She whispers, when he places her down on the bed.

Pariston smiles, deliberately caressing her busted lip with his thumb as she hisses in pain.

"I'm your god, your husband." He says, offering her a cup of tea.

"Now, eat this all up quickly. You also have to take your pills after this." Pariston says, tucking the napkin on her lap.

He stabs the piece of watermelon with a fork, bringing it to her lips. Amber stays stiff, staring at him silently as he nudges the fruit on her lips again.

"Why are you so nice to me today?" She mumbles, when he offers her another piece.

"Can't I pamper my wife a little? I'm sorry for what I did yesterday." Pariston chuckles, stirring the bowl of porridge.

"You're never sorry. Why are you being so nice today?" She asks, not slipping for his lies.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, don't push it, Amber." He growls, stuffing the spoonful of porridge in her mouth forcefully.

She glares at him, silently as he forces food inside her mouth. At last, he hands a couple of pills with a glass of water.

"The nurse said you're very weak, from today I want you to take all your meals on time. I will also . . . I will not sleep with you until you're stable again." He says, avoiding any eyecontact with her.

Amber stares at him silently as he wipes her lips with a napkin.

"Do you want me to assist you take a shower or should I call a maid? I'm-"