Elliot

Greeting

The night silence of the estate was broken by a piercing, demanding cry. Majestic columns, marble polis and expensive curtains - all this instantly lost its originality when Elliot woke up and felt the emptiness next to him. Next to him there was always a place for his wife, but now the sheets were cold. He suddenly sat up, looked at the crib, where their son was writhing restlessly, demanding comfort. Elliot silently rose, with a familiar confident movement picked up Kaina in his arms, rocking her. But then his attention was drawn to a weak light from under the bathroom door. He frowned. "Sweetheart?" Silence. He knew that she was hysterical inside, tormented by her complexes, did not want to show herself to him like this. He came closer, pressed his shoulder to the door, continuing to rock Kaina. "Sweetheart, open the door." — his voice was even, deep, confident. "You gave birth all week ago..." "Elliot, go away!" — voice trembled, soaked with tears and hysteria. — "I don't want you to see me like this..." He closed his eyes for a second, suppressing his irritation. Only years ago his name inspired fear and respect. He controlled people, made important decisions, controlled your condition, but now... Now he could not open the only door and get to the only person in front of whom he was unarmed. Cain whined again, and Elliot gently ran his palm over the baby's back. "Listen to me, my love," he said with steadfast patience, but there was a note of steel in it. — "If you do not open the door, I will take extreme measures." Silence. "The most important thing now is that my wife needs comfort. And I can't do that if you hide from me." He leaned his forehead against the door, his breathing was even and calm, but his eyes were blazing with anxiety.

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