She's Mine [COMPLETE]

She's Mine: Prologue

Finally,  she was granted solitude for another hour. All she wanted to do was rest her eyes and fall asleep. However, the drowsy and restless slumber was interrupted by the violent vibrations of her phone beside the bed. She picked up the thin device and stared at the screen. 

There were more than ten new emails forwarded to her from the Director of Information Technology. She took in a deep breath and bit her bottom lip as a faint sheen transformed her eyes into glassy orbs. He never forgot to remind her of her unending responsibilities. 

It shouldn't have affected her at all, and she couldn't understand why she was violently wiping tears away from her face. She couldn't wrap her head around why she was so emotional on the outside, yet complacent on the inside. She knew the reality of it all, but then again, she wasn't able to anticipate how it would feel the moment she was to experience it. 

Another set of footsteps entered the room, but they were swift and identifiable– the harder soles indicating that it wasn't a nurse. 

"You should put that away. You don't have time for that," she heard a voice command with a familiar tenderness. 

"I still have work to do," the young woman responded, now confidently swiping her thumb against the screen. 

A deep sigh was heard from behind, but the bedridden patient refused to divide her attention from the bright device that was shaking from the deficient grip that held it. Beginning to compose a message, she ignored the compact figure that stepped in front of her with hands on curvy hips. 

"You just–" the irritated woman began again, but her fury was cut short by angry, bright brown eyes that looked up to her from the hospital bed.   

If anything that could be admired about the washed out appearance, it was a brilliant halos of chocolate brown–extra rich, as they fanned out from the central golden hue near the pupils. 

"I know. There is no need to say it, Emmy," the patient warned, trying to hold back her exasperation, though there was a thicker glaze skewing her vision. 

Emmy ran her hands over her dark, kinked pushback that was loosely secured by a floral head band. She lacked as much vitality as the woman in the bed and could remember what it felt like to be in that position– half stripped of life. Emmy had stayed up through the night and into the early dusk of the morning to make sure that her employer was going to be cared for, but most of all, not alone. 

Impatient, brandy-colored eyes observed the distant figure, "Ms. Kelly, you're going to have to see her much sooner than later." 

Ignoring the caretaker once again, Ms. Kelly– who was too concerned with the little screen– continued to reread the draft before hitting send. Then, all of a sudden, she was making efforts to push herself up on the bed, and Emmy lunged to the bedside to help. 

"Thank you," Ms. Kelly grumbled, before using what strength she had left to sit erect. 

Without thinking twice, she was about to scroll through her emails again, but Emmy's grasp around the device was swift. 

She successfully snatched the phone from Ms. Kelly and scolded, "Eliza. Stop." 

"I have to tend to these emails," Eliza demanded with indignation. "Hand it back!" 

"I swear, if you could have, you would have been making phone calls, sending emails, and setting up meetings while you were in labor," Emmy snapped cold-heartedly. 

Eliza turned away from her sudden oppressor and narrowed her eyes at the numerous shadows that passed at the window of the door. Overworked and anxious, she extended her hand to the half-melted cup of ice, but she could hardly grab it with quivering fingers. 

Emmy secured the little cup in Eliza's hand, muttering, "You can't keep this up for long, Ms. Kelly." 

"What do you mean?" Eliza grumbled back, her voice shaking before shoving two measly cubes of ice in her mouth. 

Emmy informed her with kindness, "Pretending that it didn't happen. Pretending that you aren't suddenly a mother." 

The dark circles underneath Eliza's eyes felt permanent as Emmy heartlessly reminded her of why she was non-ambulatory in a hospital bed. 

Emmy's small hand pushed back the thin, tightly-coiled strands of hair that curtained the new mother's forehead. Emmy smiled with her eyes at the drained and flushed face. Eliza's features were gaunt and a little grey, but it wasn't anything new to the caretaker. In fact, it was one of the few times that such a tired face would cause the ends of full lips to curl up with delight. 

"Are you going to change your mind about it?" Emmy pressed on, but this time with caution as she pet Eliza's cheek. 

Eliza shut her eyes and shook her head in answer. A morbid peer pulled away from the sunken expression and over to the door. Emmy wanted to smile at the swaddled bundle that was approaching in the nurse's arms, but she hesitated knowing what could happen. 

With haste, Emmy was already softly cooing the infant that was carefully cradled into her arms. She took a moment to recall what it was like to hold her first born. Emmy remembered being overwhelmed with happiness and accomplishment. However, that type of memory would not hold the same for Eliza. 

Emmy quietly thanked the nurse and turned back to meet the bedside.

"Don't you want to hold her?" Emmy asked, while softly petting a tiny tanned cheek with her thumb.

Eliza's heart wanted to eradicate itself from her chest. Her worst fear was so small and in the arms of a woman whose touch was more appropriate.

"Eliza, please," Emmy whispered with eyes glistening from the pain of already knowing the answer. 

Shaking hands were clenched into fists and damp eyes were shut with all their might. 

With a tremulous whisper, the frightened mother denied her again, "No."