My very stubborn Musae (aka The Wenches) haven't been able to produce a full blown story for well over 18 months now. To keep going I have been answering challenges from the writing section at The Heart of Camelot, a multifandom site for writers and graphic artists alike. This here is a new set of answers from a previous challenge called "Illustrations" where you have to write an answer between 100 - 300 words for an emotion.

Challenge Number 12: Cruelty (300 Words)

"Aftermath"

Ellingham shut himself inside the bathroom stall, faced the toilet and leaned wearily back against the door. He was still in his scrubs. The taste of bile and vomit lingered in his mouth. He felt more exhausted than at any other time in his life that he could remember.

It had to be the exhaustion, he tried to tell himself as he stared off into the middle distance, feeling the tightness in his shoulders. A horrific set of circumstances had led him to be standing there in a hospital loo, with his close-cropped grey hair damp with sweat, the last vestiges of nausea wearing away and the tightly coiled knot in his stomach trying to twist itself free. He could feel the trembling in his hands, dropped loosely at his side.

Sure, he'd managed to save the patient's...

Martin stopped.

His wife. He had managed to save the life of his wife, despite his 'handicap'. He had known all along if he could just get in there, albeit deceitfully, he'd do the surgery quickly, brilliantly and well. Louisa was still alive, she was still in Cornwall. She was still there, because of him.

Yet that cruelly logical part of his brain was telling him otherwise.

Louisa had had enough, she had been bound for Spain to stay with her mother, taking their son with her. She had been so furious with him until the car that had hit her shook up both their world's. He had saved her life, but he was losing her.

He couldn't bear the thought of living without her, his beautiful, beloved Louisa. He also knew, definitively, he was finished as a surgeon.

The pain of it all lurked in his eyes, evidenced only by the single tear that slowly made its way down his face.