Nothing Good Gets Away

Chapter 46

ROWAN BASS

With the help of my mother and nurse, I slowly sit up and stand from my hospital bed. I only feel lightheaded because I've been laying down for too long, but I'm not in any kind of excruciating and debilitating pain. That's a good sign.

"Do you need help?" My mom continues to hold my hand as I start toward the bathroom.

I choose to smile rather than laugh, remembering how that felt last time. "No, I can do it by myself. Thanks, though."

Reluctantly, both of them let go of my arms to let me drag my feet to the bathroom. I flip the light on and close the door behind me, taking in my bare face after my mom had gently removed my old makeup for me. I look remarkably tired and cold like I could use some sunshine.

My throat is dry when I swallow and use my good hand to lift the short sleeves on my gown up to my shoulders so I can see the bruises Matthew left around both of my biceps from where he was holding me so hard. It's horrifying, honestly, to know that another human being is capable of marking another like that with their own two hands.

After I use the restroom, I awkwardly wash only my left hand the best that I can, while the other remains bandaged up. I take in a slow breath to see how deeply I'm able to breathe before I feel that weird pinching sensation by my right shoulder blade and gratefully turn away from my reflection. Carson is in the room when I come back out, dressed in his bloody tux still.

"Hey," he offers a small smile. "How are you feeling?"

I nod. "I'm okay, but I'm kinda hungry. And I'd like to change my clothes to leave if I can now."

"Of course," my mom picks up my overnight bag from one of the vacant chairs, which holds the outfit she brought for me to change into from the house.

"Now, you're going to want to be careful changing your clothes and everything," the nurse warns. "If you can, I would stick with shirts that button up rather than tops that you'll need to pull over your head. You shouldn't stretch your right arm too much in case you might tear the stitches."

"Mm," I physically wince at the idea, nodding my understanding. "Okay, I can do that."

"Let me help you with this, okay?" Elise insists, and I let her follow me back into the bathroom so we can have privacy. I don't necessarily feel like having my boyfriend watch my mom put my clothes on for me, but I don't necessarily feel like having him do it himself either.

Behind the closed door, I feel like a little kid again as she helps me slip my arms into a cardigan and tugs my joggers up to my waist for me. "How do you still look so nice?" I ask her as she steps in front of me to button the cardigan over my bra, still wearing her glittery silver dress.

"Stop it," she mumbles, concentrating on securing the buttons until my bra is covered, and takes my sherpa-lined house shoes to place down by my feet for me to step into. "Do you want to brush your teeth?"

"Please," I take my toothbrush from her, and she uncaps the plastic covering the bristles to squeeze a bit of paste on for me. "Guess I'm gonna have to get used to being left-handed for a little while, huh?"

"Hm," she smiles a little, just watching me drag the toothbrush back and forth and from side to side in my mouth. I can use my fingertips on my right hand to do things like turn the tap on and off, but I'm unable to hold anything, or strain too much.

"K," I spit and rinse, using a paper towel to dab at my mouth. "What do we do now?"

"Now we just need to check you out, but there's something else I need to ask you. It's completely up to you."