I walked through the door, a bouquet of flowers in my hand. It was for my wife, whom I'd hit the other day in a fit of rage. I didn't feel a shred of empathy for her, she had brought it on herself by defying me. But I needed to keep her in my control, so I had to make up for it this time. I approached her as she sat on our bed

"Flowers for my beautiful wife."

My lips curled into a smug smirk, knowing full well of her allergic reaction to lilies specifically.