He really didn't feel like he deserved the good woman he married. It was as if every wrong thing he could have done had compiled on him at once. He watched as she left the bedroom and flopped down on their bed, managing to jostle his arm in the process. Good thing the anesthetic had yet to wear off. He'd started to take off the rest of his clothing, stripping down to just his boxers, then wandered into the bathroom to clean up more. As he wiped off all of the dried blood, he paused to look at himself in the mirror, truly surprised at the state of himself. His skin was paler than normal and he saw the various degrees of bruising along his ribs with one dark one peaking out from the top of his boxers. His face and eyes were red from the tears he'd shed over his lost friend.
Once he'd finished cleaning, he ambled back over to the bed and crawled into the center of it, his limbs sticking out from him haphazardly across the bed, sighing as he just stared at the ceiling.