Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Did they shave my head?”
“Yes.”
The lack of feeling in his reply killed the smile growing on my face. “Oh well, I needed a haircut anyway.”
Apathy stared back at me. There was zero amusement in his expression, not even a twitch of his lips.
“We need to talk before I disappear again.”
He jerked back, every muscle in his body tensing. My careless words inadvertently cracked the surface of his deliberate ruse. And then I caught it, the pain and anger hiding under the thin shell of his calm exterior––a truckload of it.
“Disappear?”
“I meant fall asleep.” I reached for his hands and felt him flinch when I made contact. The concern, now jumping off his face, made me feel bad about teasing him. The apology was on my lips when two knocks coming from the open doorway caused both our heads to turn.
Wearing a warm smile, Dr. Rossetti walked over to the side of my bed and patted my shoulder, the bones of which, now that I realized, were protruding in a frightening manner. “I’m glad to see you looking brighter. You’ve been in and out for about three weeks.”
My gaze slid over to Sebastian and stopped short when I found his head hanging down, his attention fixed on the floor. I followed the tense line of his shoulder down his arm, to the knuckles that were mottled with anxiety. His fist tightened and the tendons on the back of his hands popped up.
Dr. Rossetti exhaled heavily. Something about it pulled at me, warranting my immediate attention. My focus snapped back to her. The air grew heavy, an ominous foreboding lurking in the corners of the room. When it began to circle the bed the realization crashed down on me.
“There isn’t any way to say this gently, Vera. You suffered a miscarriage.”
It took me a minute to process her words, each one spelled out individually in my mind. And as the words coalesced, something inside of me extinguished…died with it. There was no despair, no anger––no feeling whatsoever. All that remained was a great desert as empty and barren as the Sahara, littered with the bleached bones of nascent hopes and dreams I didn’t even know I possessed until that very moment.
My face was a placidly numb mask as I turned and met the turmoil evident on Sebastian’s. He reached out and grabbed my hand. Lacing his fingers in between mine, he squeezed much too tightly for it to be comforting.
“I performed a D and C,” she informed me, tempering the ever-present note of authority in her voice. “Both ovaries looked fine. You’ll have no problem conceiving again.”
My gaze jerked back to her. A terror, the dimensions of which I couldn’t even begin to comprehend, spiked through the smothering blanket of detachment for a fleeting moment. I pushed it down and locked it away, the reaction automatic; the same one I always had when dealing with heart shattering truths I didn’t want to face.
Reading my expression, she quickly added, “More importantly you experienced significant blunt force trauma to the brain. There was enough swelling that we thought it best to keep you in a coma for forty-eight hours.”
“Coma?” The word escaped me as a mere whisper.
“I’m afraid so.” Dr. Rossetti softened the professional mask she always wore. “What was the last thing you remember?”
A knot formed in my stomach at the sudden recollection. I couldn’t look at Sebastian as I spoke. “Blood…running through the woods and…blood.”
Sighing deeply, Dr Rossetti continued. “It seems your memory is largely intact. Might have some holes here and there, but those should close up quickly.” Her focus shifted to Sebastian briefly, then swung back to me. “You were very lucky.”
I thought I heard a note of censure in her voice. However, when I looked up, all I found on her face was sympathy. More likely the bottomless guilt that had begun to seep into my bloodstream was coloring my perception.
“When can I leave the hospital?” A sudden, urgent need to be gone from the antiseptic smell and the white tiles reflecting the florescent lighting made me speak more harshly than I intended. The persistent ache in my head didn’t help either.
“You’ve recuperated remarkably well, faster than I had anticipated…let’s play it by ear. It wouldn’t be out of the question for you to go home in the next couple of days, predicated on the promise that you will remain on bed rest for at least another week.” My expression must’ve been less than convincing because she continued. “You can’t push yourself.”
“I know.” I would have said anything to ensure her cooperation. Still, she knew I was appeasing her. The polite smile she gave me conveyed her thoughts on the matter perfectly.
As I watched her walk out, a twinge of panic grew larger inside my chest. I was suddenly scared of being alone with the man I loved, scared of his censure, of his concern, of all the words that hadn’t been said yet. The door swung shut behind her and the silence in the room immediately became as dense as quicksand, threatening to suffocate me by slow inches if something didn’t give.