Non Verbal

77

"It's ok." I say. "I am ok."

The nurse nods, glances at Lottie and back to me. "Your mother has just left." He says to me and then looks pointedly at Lottie "But your dad is still waiting out in the waiting room for you." He says to her.

Her sleepy eyes widen, and she sits up a bit, looking for her phone and finding it tucked under herself. She reads the messages and then her shoulders untense ever so slightly and I assume they would have woken her up if they needed her to go.

"Your mum is going to come back for the night. She wants to stay. I can make up a bed for her, but I cannot have two stay. We don't usually let-"

Lottie shakes her head at him, as if saying not to worry.

He nods. "Okay, if you're feeling ok I will-"

"I went for another scan, didn't I?" I ask confused. "Head ok?"

His eyebrows raise, as if impressed I knew what was going on. He nods. "Yeah the doctor will update you properly in the morning. But they decided not to operate so I am guessing that there must have been enough progress on the bleed."

I nod.

It feels like I shouldn't.

Like it almost feels as if my brain moves in my head.

That was a horrible feeling.

"Anyway." He says. "I will leave you be. You know you can call us on this-" He shows me the call button. "Yeah?"

I nod again, wanting to feel the pain again. Just trying it on I guess.

He looks at Lottie then. "And your dad is just sat on the chair, he has coffee and his laptop. He is all good. Don't worry."

"Thankyou..." She says softly, smiling only a tiny bit.

The nurse shows me how to move the bed and then he dismisses himself.

I move the bed down a little, the quietness heavy in the room, it hurt to be so sat up. I don't look at her, I can feel her eyes on me. But I also know something is going to happen if our eyes connect.

I am relieved to see her. To know she's here. I am thankful that she is. That she cares enough to be here.

But she doesn't seem to be feeling any sort of positive feeling.

"Roe..." She whispers, demanding my attention.

I look over. Obviously. What was I going to do? Ignore her?

Our eyes meet and I try to smile, sort of. It was a guilty one. Sheepish. My head was back on the pillow, just turned to see her.

She did not return my smile.

Instead, I watched as she crumbled.

Her face started to flush, the paleness turning a soft pink as emotion raised through her from her throat to her eyes. Tears pooling them.

"Oh Lots." I sigh, helpless.

It burst from her. Her pain. And I watched, physically broken, as she too broke in front of me. Her eyes closed as tears fell from them, her hands coming up to cover her face like she does when she's really truly upset and I watched so fucking powerless as she collapsed back against the chair and burst into loud almost childlike sobs.

It was awful and it was so fucking symbolic. Where because of my injuries, because of the things I had let happen to myself, I could do nothing but watch as someone I so deeply loved cried inconsolably. All I could do was flinch at the sounds she was making as she tried to cry behind her palms.