He'd conveniently forgotten about Eleanor puncturing the condoms.
Eleanor saw him about to step toward me and quickly looped her arm through his. "Paul, I heard that after a miscarriage, the body doesn't always... expel everything cleanly. And if I hadn't insisted on dragging you to that party, your wife wouldn't have ended up like this. It's all my fault."
She drifted to the side of my bed, her gaze dropping to my stomach. A wave of dread washed over me.
"Why don't I help press the residue out for her? Consider it my apology."
Between the weakness draining my body and my scattered attention, I didn't react fast enough. She got her hands on me.
The pain in my abdomen exploded through every nerve. Blood soaked through the sheets in a widening stain.
Eleanor's eyes were bright with excitement. That look. It was the same look the monster from eight years ago had worn.
She couldn't contain herself. "Paul, look! I really did press it out for her. See? I told you it wasn't clean."
Her hands bore down harder. Paul stood rooted to the spot, making no move whatsoever to pull her off me.
In my panic, my fingers found a glass IV bottle on the rolling supply cart beside the bed. I swung it at her head.