A Mad Man's Clause

15|The Feeling of Failure

Mai sat next to the large bed, legs crossed at the ankles, weary eyes watching the bandaged man laying asleep soundlessly. Seeing him as she did at the bottom of the stairs days prior had rattled her much to the point of spending every waking moment next to his bed. Really, she had lost count of the hours spent agonizing over his battered body.

A miracle, the doctor who made the house call, had called it. The fact that he was alive. Henry had sustained a concussion, fractured ribs, a broken nose and an onset hypothermia. She made sure to keep him swaddled in blankets even though some colour had returned to his ghastly body.

Water droplets condensed on the glassy frame of the window. The only indication that it was raining at all. It only spawned a bittersweet reminder of the sadness burgeoning against the tightness in her chest.

It was her fault.

Prancing in the meadow, basking in the sun's gold was not written in her stars. Not with pain and death lingering around. They fed on her hopes and dreams and gifted her with ropes instead—drenched in the blood of anyone who dared to care about her. She'd strangled her parents with them, then hanged Kofi and now Henry. He may have survived but it was only a matter of time before she took his life too.

"Why are you still crying?" the tired question cut into her thoughts and pleaded for her acknowledgement.

"No, I'm not." she quickly replied and rubbed at her eyes. She chuckled sadly. The stern look he was trying to level at her was painfully awkward. While the swelling around his left eye had gone significantly down, it had yet to lose its blackness. It was becoming increasingly hard to look at him now that he was fully awake so she looked away.

"You must be hungry. Let me..."

"Mai!" he cut in but she continued, scurrying to her feet.

"Let... Let me find you something...please." She ran out of the room without a moment's pause. Desperate words and tears had accompanied her vigil over him yet in the moments following the answer to her prayers, she was too ashamed to face him. In all honesty, everything was far too complicated than she was wanted it to be. And she had no one to blame than herself.

Accepting her fate from the onset would have spared her the heartache and them, their lives.

"Mai" She lifted her head and herself from against the door.

"Marge." She acknowledged the fresh faced madame. "Henry is awake." She could not hide the strain in her voice. Marge looked at her, offering nothing but a simple nod. Mai took that a dismissal and wandered off.

She walked into the kitchen first. It was empty. Much like the rest of the manor. Marge had given the workers the week off. It was unwarranted but she did appreciate the calm that had settled over the house.

Late lunch for Henry. The reason she was there in the first place. She began her search through the fridge picking out ingredients she was going to use for a simple tomato soup. One by one, individual vegetables and condiments made it into the pot as simmering liquid. Savoury aroma filled the room as she waltzed around ensuring she had everything right.

As she was dishing the meal into a bowl, Marge walked in.

"You must be relieved" she says approaching Mai's side. Subtle hits of her floral perfume swept around her. It carried a beautiful note that told of fresh spring blossoms and swaying leaves.

Mai smiled, lips tight "Yes, I guess." There was nothing noteworthy to say in the minutes that passed so Mai busied herself with setting up the tray. Once done, she regards Marge once more. "I'm going to take this to him now. There is some soup left and there is rice in the cooker. You can have some if you want."