I’m not sure if it was because I hadn’t eaten breakfast or what, but suddenly my legs gave way and all the groceries I was carrying tumbled to the ground.

In a panic, I scrambled to pick up the potatoes that had rolled away.

“Leave them out, miss! Look at your leg!” An old lay shout to me.

Confused, I looked down and realized my white dress was already soaked in blood. Hearing the urgency in her voice, I forced a smile and looked up.

“Oh, I’m okay,” I said to the concern lady. “It doesn’t hurt,” I added to reassure her.

When I finally managed to gather the potatoes, the elderly woman walked over, letting out a sigh.

“Look at all those blood. How can you say it’s not hurt? You’re so stubborn,” She scolded me. But she took a handkerchief and tie it around the wound.

“Go take a cab straight to the hospital. Don’t let it get infected.”

I thanked her repeatedly and once she left, I grabbed the rest of the groceries and hobbled home.

I had everything I needed at home, so there was no need to go to the hospital.

But when I got home, I found that I had crushed the beef slices into a mess.

I didn’t even have time to change clothes. Grabbing my phone, I rushed back out the door, only to get a message:

“Work’s crazy today. I won’t make it back tonight. Have dinner without me.”

I felt a shiver in my chest, but I pushed it aside.

I smiled and replied, “Okay,” then tried to open the door. But no matter how I searched, I couldn’t find my keys. I had forgotten them—again.

After a moment of hesitation, I decided to text Damon.

[I forgot my keys. Can you send them back to me?]

I sat down on the stairs, waiting. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours before my phone finally buzzed.

[I told you we should’ve switched to a password lock, but you brushed off the idea. Now you’ve lost the keys and I’m too busy to bring them to you. Are you happy now that you locked yourself out?]

I knew he would be upset and I immediately started typing in a panic.

[I wasn’t asking you to bring them. Maybe you can find delivery guy to send them over? Password locks are really unsafe—there are so many cases online. Let me find some examples…]

But as I typed, I stopped. He hated when I bombarded him with messages while he was working.

I silently erased the text and simply typed, [Sorry.]

Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I hated that I was always so forgetful.

The property manager finally arrived with the spare key and he helped me inside.

It reminded me of two years ago, right after we got married. I kept forgetting my keys back then, too. Damon was afraid I’d lock myself out, so he had arranged with the property management to keep a spare key in case of emergencies. It had been two years and I had completely forgotten about it. It wasn’t until a neighbor saw me sitting on the steps, covered in blood, that they got scared and called security. That’s how the property manager found out.

“Mrs. Krueger, do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

Brent Hunt, the property manager, was still as kind-hearted as ever. I shook my head.

“No, it’s fine. I have first-aid box in the house, I’ll treat it as soon as I get in. Thank you.”

I got up carefully, but Brent gently stopped me.

“Mrs. Krueger, when my mom was sick, you were the one who took her to the hospital. This the least I can do.”

It was true. One time, Brent’s mother had suddenly felt ill with chest pains and I had been the one to call for an ambulance and stayed with her until she was stable.

Later, Brent came to thank me. Believing that she was trustworthy, Damon gave him a spare key to our place.

I couldn’t argue with him, so I nodded.

“I’ve got to go, but if you need anything, just call me,” Brent said, turning to leave.

As I watched him walk away, I looked at the groceries and felt like crying.

I had bought so much and now I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat it all. Damon was going to scold me for wasting food again.

I got up and rifled through the first aid kit, but everything inside seemed to be expired. I figured if it was unopened, it might still be okay. I twisted the cap off a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, walked to the bathroom and poured it over my wound. Then, I grabbed some gauze and wrapped it around the injury haphazardly.

I glanced over at the white dress I’d changed out of. It almost looked better stained with blood, that deep red against the fabric.

The thought caught me off guard, I shook the thought off and I dunked the dress into the water. But when I saw the black stains spreading on the white fabric, I felt a wave of frustration. I watched as the blood slowly soaked away and suddenly, I couldn’t stand the sight of it anymore. The dress ended up in the trash a few moments later.

I stood there for a while, staring at the ingredients scattered across the counter. I was too tired to bother cleaning up.

I didn’t know how much time had passed before I heard the door open. Damon walked in with a sigh that made me realize how much I hadn’t done right.

“Can’t you at least turn on the lights?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” I mumbled.

He didn’t look at me, just turned on the light by the door. Then, he went about tidying up, not bothering to say much. “I’m so tired. I’m just going to bed.”

He walked into the bedroom, then popped his head back out. “Remember to wash my shirt. I need it for the day after tomorrow.”

I lazily acknowledged him. He didn’t say anything else, just tossed his clothes on the bed and walked off.

I picked up the shirt, squinting at the dim light from the doorway. That’s when I saw a red mark on the collar. It wasn’t blood. It reminded me of how often he used to talk about a new addition to the company—his new secretary, Candace Stokes, six months ago.

“Candace is so clueless. She can’t do anything right. Just like you were back then.”

“Candace couldn’t figure how the printer work. She makes a long line behind her. When I left, I caught her jumping around from panic. So funny!”

Damon said all of this with a smile—a genuine, adoring smile. I knew, because I’d seen it before.

While I was lost in thought, Damon suddenly scolded me. “What with the face? Did my story bored you? I just want to tell you my day and this is your reaction? You’re so petty!”

After yelling, Damon went into the room and I flinched, startled. I quickly followed him in, trying to steer the conversation back to his cute secretary. As we talked, Damon suddenly looked at me intensely and things got out of hands.

I woke up to find Damon staring at me. I obediently took the pills he gave me. Only then did Damon nod, satisfied.

“That’s my girl. Remember what my mom said? With your condition, it’s better if you don’t get pregnant.” 

I forced a smile, nodding in agreement. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my chest, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“The color choice is terrible. She should have gone with blood red. Now that's a good shade of red,” I muttered to myself, looking at the stain on Damon’s shirt’s collar. As I was about to head to the laundry room, I saw Damon standing in the doorway, his expression full of shock.

He walked toward me, stammering, "T-that must be from the party earlier. Someone must have been messing with me by drawing it there."

I shrugged casually. “I just think the color choice is awful.”

Damon's panicked expression shifted into a smile, his demeanor relaxing. “Right,” he said, studying me for a long moment, as if trying to gauge something.

“Are you okay?” he asked eventually.

“I'm good. Why do you ask?”

Damon stepped closer, gently taking hold of my arm and stroking it softly. “Just checking,” he replied.

Then, he leaned in and kissed my forehead. “I've missed you so much,” he murmured. He always acted this way when he thought I had caught on to something. He would be playing nice-doting husband. 

“I’ll wash this. You should go to bed,” I said, holding up the shirt.

I was feeling a little worn out from not having eaten all day and I just didn’t have the energy to deal with him.

Damon, however, had other plans. He scooped me up effortlessly and as he did, my injured leg bumped against the trash can. I cried out in pain. I yelped in pain and Damon’s face darkened.