Two Minds Unbound

Several relatives stepped forward, encircling Rosa like a pack of wolves ready to tear her apart. Their faces twisted with outrage, voices rising in a cacophony of accusations.

"You have no right calling yourself a mother!" one woman spat, her eyes blazing with disdain. "Cheating on your husband and giving away your daughter? Do you even have a conscience?!"

"Yeah!" another relative chimed in, pointing an accusing finger at Rosa. "Catherine raised Mia on her own. She was both a mother and a father to her. It wasn't easy for her!"

The crowd's indignation surged like a tide, but Rosa remained unfazed, her wild eyes darting around, searching for a way out. Despite the verbal assault, she stood her ground, her voice shrill with defiance.

"She's my daughter! Catherine has nothing to do with her!" Rosa shouted, her words cutting through the clamor like a whip. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and bolted, her movements frantic and unsteady, like a cornered animal fleeing from danger.

***

After the funeral, I found myself lying on the familiar beige sofa in my apartment. The faint scent of lavender from the nearby diffuser drifted through the air. My head throbbed faintly, but I ignored it. Slowly, I sat up, reaching for the wine bottle on the coffee table.

Pouring myself a glass, I swirled the deep red liquid around lazily before taking a slow sip. The warmth spread through me, not from sadness, but from a quiet, simmering joy.

***

Half a year passed in the blink of an eye. The seasons changed, but my routine remained the same. Each month, I visited Josh in the mental hospital. The pristine white walls of the facility always gave me an odd sense of calm. Josh had grown thinner, his once strong frame now frail, weighed down by guilt and regret.

Sitting across from him during my visits, I kept my voice gentle, reassuring. "You didn't mean to," I said softly, my eyes fixed on his trembling hands. "That wasn't you, Josh. Mia would forgive you. She wouldn't want to see you like this."

Josh's eyes welled with tears, his lip quivering as he struggled to hold back sobs. "I was so scared you'd abandon me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I've taken so much from you. I killed your parents and now Mia too. I... I don't deserve you."

Reaching across the table, I wiped away his tears with the pad of my thumb, my touch tender. "Don't be silly," I whispered, offering a faint smile. "We're husband and wife. Marriage is about weathering the storm together."

Josh sniffled, nodding, his tears and snot blending into a pitiful mess on his face. He clung to my words like a lifeline, desperate for absolution.

"I've arranged for specialists to reassess your condition," I continued softly. "You'll be able to come home soon. But promise me, Josh, don't give up on yourself."

Josh nodded fervently, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Catherine... thank you," he choked out.

I smiled faintly once more, leaning back in my chair. The best part was yet to come.

***

Finally, after months of flawless behavior in the hospital, Josh was released. The day he returned home, the air felt thick with tension, as though the very walls of the apartment held their breath in anticipation. I prepared a simple dinner, trying to make the atmosphere feel warm and welcoming. But the peace didn't last.

When Rosa found out about Josh's release, she stormed into my apartment uninvited, her face flushed with anger. Her hair was disheveled and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Catherine, are you insane?!" she yelled, her voice sharp and trembling. "After all the people he's killed, you still dare to bring him back?"

I turned to face her, keeping my expression calm, almost puzzled. "Aren't you Josh's friend? His childhood sweetheart?" I asked softly. "Why would you say such things about him?"

Rosa's entire frame trembled with rage. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she pointed an accusatory finger at Josh, who stood silently behind me.

"I saw with my own eyes how he killed my daughter!" Rosa shouted, her voice breaking with emotion. "If that doesn't make him a lunatic, what does? You're lucky the knife hasn't turned on you yet! You have no idea the pain I'm enduring."

I lowered my head quietly, choosing not to argue with her. There was no point. Rosa's rage was like a storm—wild, uncontrollable and exhausting. And besides, she was right. When Josh killed my adoptive parents, I felt... nothing.

***

New Year's came and with it, a strange, hollow stillness. Because of Josh's history, no relatives came to visit us anymore. The absence of their presence didn't bother me; I didn't feel lonely. Josh was all I needed.

We shared a modest dinner before stepping outside to set off fireworks. The cold night air bit at my skin, but I barely noticed. Josh stood beside me, his eyes reflecting the bursts of color in the sky above.

Our neighbors kept their distance, watching us with wary eyes. Whispers carried on the wind, too soft to hear clearly but loud enough to sting.

"That couple is insane."

"Who knows when the husband will snap and kill someone again?"

"They've ruined the property values in this building. I'm so sick of them."

I ignored the gossip, focusing instead on Josh, but I noticed the slight twitch in his jaw. He was bothered by their words, even if he didn't say so.

Back inside, I prepared a small tray of sliced fruit and placed it on the table. Picking up a slice of apple, I offered it to Josh, holding it up to his mouth.

"Honey, have an apple," I said softly, my voice gentle and soothing.

Josh froze, his eyes locked on the knife I had left on the table. His fingers began to tremble involuntarily, a subtle but unmistakable sign.

I waved my hand in front of him, letting the sweet fragrance of the apple waft closer. "Honey, what's wrong?" I asked, my tone light, almost teasing.

Suddenly, something in Josh snapped. His breathing grew erratic and he sprang to his feet, shoving me aside with surprising force. Grabbing the knife from the table, he pointed it at me, his eyes burning red with fury.

"You bitch!" he snarled, his voice raw and primal, as though overtaken by a force he couldn't control.

I smiled with an unsettling excitement, stretching out my left arm toward him. My voice was calm but unnervingly eager. "Come on, right here! Cut here!"