The Body #3: Rogue and Euphemia

Chapter 2 (Euphemia): The Truth Of That

There are a million different ways to break up with someone.

Over dinner.

Via text.

During a fight.

On the phone.

In his truck.

At a party.

After a vacation.

Unfortunately, due to my circumstances, I was going with a lesser used option: breaking up with a man without telling him right away. So far, of the two of us, Rogue was the only one who still thought we were in a relationship. Eight days in and my pain had prevented me from smiling or talking or being touched. From laughing or cuddling. From sleeping in the same bed. From hand holding. From living.

He thought it was the pain from my wound, when, in fact, it was the pain in my heart. That fifty pound weight just sat in my stomach, reminding me that the man I loved, who professed to love me, chose to save Gel without even checking on me.

Her smile at me as he carried her out.

I'd stopped taking pain pills after the third day, but I'd neglected to tell Rogue that because I was blaming the pills for making me sleepy, putting me in a fog, making me feel blah. With every day that passed, Rogue looked more and more worried, his face tight with anxiety.

"Can I just sit next to you on the bed, Effie?"

"No. The movement hurts, and I'm about to fall asleep."

"I need to touch you, Euphemia. Please just let me hold your good hand, just for a second."

"No. It hurts to be touched anywhere. My skin is...really sensitized. I think it's the pain pills. Maybe that's just how they affect me."

Tonight, he tried to get me out of the room for the first time since he'd brought me home from the hospital. "Can we eat dinner together in the common room? Everyone wants to see you, see how you're doing."

Everyone, Rogue? Are you kidding me? You didn't even care about how I was doing the day of the shooting, so why would anyone else give a damn?

"I'm not hungry. The pain is zapping my appetite."

I wondered if he'd ever realize, once I was gone, that I'd been telling him the absolute truth every time I mentioned my pain but it wasn't the pain he assumed.

"Then I'll eat in here with you. I'll send a prospect to get some food from Fern's and see if maybe you'll change your mind about eating with your favorite meal in front of you. Or he could go get you a malt. Does anything sound good?"

You leaving me alone. Oh, wait, you already did that.

"Euphemia, this isn't normal to not be feeling any better. Maybe you have an infection." There was so much concern in his voice that I almost believed he cared. Almost.

He hurried out of the room and came back a minute later with Dayton; she'd been the only one I allowed in my room and the only one I'd allowed to change my dressings.

After she'd checked that everything looked OK, she asked me a few questions that I answered carefully and I could feel her eyeing me. Then she left, and Rogue followed her out into the hallway to express his concerns to a medical professional.

When Rogue came back into the room, he knelt beside the bed right next to me, his hand going to smooth a lock of hair away from my face, but I'd flinched away in a move he couldn't miss, and he pulled back his hand.

"Tell me what's wrong, Effie, please. Is it just the pain or is there something else? Do you...do you want to talk to someone, a professional, about what you went through?"

Hey, doc, yeah, so this man I love threw his body over another woman's to protect her during a shooting, and he didn't even check on me after it was all over to see if I was OK. Is this one of those relationship bumps you hear about?

"No."

"Look at me, please. You haven't looked at me at all since you got shot."

Knock knock knock.

Rogue stood up. "Let me get rid of whoever this is."

Before he got to the door, it was pushed open and Angelica walked into the room.

"You need to go, Gel. Euphemia isn't ready for visitors."

"I just thought I'd come give you a break, Ro. You haven't really left her room in over a week, and I thought I could sit with her so you could get away for a bit."

"That's nice of you," he was saying while I tried not to gag, "but I'm fine. Thanks for stopping by."

"Do you have five minutes to come say hi to Winnie? She's missed you, I can tell. She's been acting out a bit, so I think seeing you would really help her."

"I can't."

"Five minutes, Ro? Seriously? You can't leave her alone for five minutes?"

"Seriously. I won't leave her alone. Shut the door behind you."

"Unbelievable," she huffed, then without another word, Angelica left.

"You should go," I said once the door closed. "See Winnie. I'm fine."

"I'm not leaving you." 

That would almost be touching if I hadn't witnessed what you'd done during the shooting.

"I'm fine. I don't need a sitter."

"I'm not leaving, Euphemia," he said stubbornly. "I'm right where I want to be."

Well, I wasn't where I wanted to be. But I would be in a few days.

"Do you feel like reading? Or do you want me to read to you? Listen to some music? Do you want your hair brushed? I want to do something for you."

How about throwing your body over mine as bullets are flying into the clubhouse?

"PT today kind of tired me out," I said. "So I'm going to sleep. Feel free to leave."

"I'll be right here when you wake up, in case you want anything," he promised.

Unfortunately, what I wanted, I couldn't have. He'd already shown me the truth of that.