Maternal instinct

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

At least, I think that’s what he said to me… but then she started crying and I couldn’t help myself!

That’s just maternal instinct, isn’t it? I mean, what kind of mum leaves her baby to wail behind a closed door?

So, I rushed in here and scooped her up without a second thought.

It’s only now, as I rock the still crying bundle in my arms, that the look in my husband’s eyes comes back to me.

Don’t open the door.

My skin is crawling.

Something isn’t right.

I look around the room for some sign of what it might be. An open window maybe? An item out of place?

But everything is exactly as I expect it to find it.

And still…

Don’t open the door.

The sound of heavy footfall. I’m afraid of what’s coming.

But the alternative is leaving my back exposed, so I whip around in terror as the sound drifts through the now open doorway.

I hold my crying daughter closer.

The footsteps grow louder… louder… louder… and stop.

Don’t open the door.

Maybe I should close it again?

I hold my breath and reach. Right before I slam it shut, I hear his voice.

“Where are you? I told you not to open the bloody door,” my husband screams in anger.

No…

Terror.

He’s screaming in terror.

I sigh with relief and step back through the doorway.

He’s not going to hurt me.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I say sheepishly. “But she started crying and I couldn’t leave her there. She needed me. Our baby needed me.”

I’m looking lovingly at the bundle now safe in my arms when my husband responds.

“Sweetheart, we don’t have a baby.”