He had ran her a bath and washed the blood from her himself, he had ordered the maids to strip the bedding and change it, he had fetched her new pyjamas and refilled her hot water bottle with fresh hot water and now she lay against him fast asleep in bed.
It had taken a while for her tears to subside. It broke his heart to see her so upset about something so completely out of her control, yet something she still blamed herself for. He was devastated that their unborn child had been taken from them, so cruelly, so suddenly. He watched as she muttered and flinched against him and was pleased when she instantly resettled herself. Carla had always been an active sleeper. He remembers the first night they spent together many years ago and how he literally jumped out his skin when she started talking to herself. He never did tell her about these events though, it was his secret guilty pleasure. It was adorable and made him love her that little more every time.
Soon Paul was also asleep – his arms still tightly wrapped around her as they both slept. It was rare they did fall asleep like this, usually Paul would stumble in many hours after Carla had already drifted off and he would be confined to a small proportion of their large bed. He would never mind though.
She woke up in pain. She ached all over and felt so tired. She glanced over at Paul who still was fast asleep. She didn't want to wake him, she didn't want to wake him to complain over something that was solely her fault.
She felt dizzy at first as she stood from the bed, but soon she felt better and was able to carry on. It was completely dark when she reached the bottom floor. The thick curtains were drawn and all appliances switched off. She walked on quietly into the lounge where she knew Paul often kept a bottle of strong whiskey. She hardly ever drunk alcohol, as a young girl she had witnessed first hand what it could do to people and that was enough to put anyone off the liquid, but just this once she would allow herself.
The liquor burned as she poured it down her throat. It was strong and tasted vile. She heard it was a great at helping to forget things, numb pain and generally block out life and that is what she hoped would happen.
It was addictive; the pain, the taste, the feelings it provoked. She had downed nearly the whole bottle and just as she had hoped, her mind had blocked out everything that caused her distress. It was good, to feel this free of life, she could understand why people grew to rely on it.
She hadn't noticed the time, how the hours were quickly slipping by. Night was now turning to day and people were starting to awaken after yet another night of rest. Her body shivered in the cold crisp air, the empty glass fell from her hand and rolled across the floor to rest in a corner. She was still in pain, this was where the alcohol had failed. Her head felt like it was physically pulsating and her stomach ached more than she remembered it from several hours ago – this was the one agonising reminder of what was actually happening.
Paul could smell the alcohol on her breath as he crouched down to gently stroke her cheek. He wasn't angry about the state he found her in, he wasn't annoyed either. In fact he was rather impressed she had managed to stop after the one bottle, had he been in her shoes it would have been a very different story. He wiped his tears before covering her in the duvet he had earlier fetched. He had thought and grieved for the baby they both had so wanted but now would never have. He had spent the most time thinking of his wife though. He knew this was destroying her. He knew she was completely blaming herself for this, yet he knew it was completely not her fault. He would do anything for her to understand this despite knowing she never would. Bowing his head he placed a lingering kiss against her soft skin and watched and waited as she slept the morning away.
