Lifeline

Chapter 4; My Hope.

My cheeks slowly grew warm in embarrassment. I had expected him to be possessive and nicely tell the waiter to fuck off like most guys do in the novels I read, but he didn't seem phased by it. I guess this is the real life after all.

Our food came and the rest of breakfast went by uneventfully. We made little conversation and exchanged "happy anniversary's".  After, we were done eating, the bill came. Luke hadn't clearly checked the price of 'today's special' before ordering and was now fuming and ranting about how the café was a rip-off.

I was about to pay for it when Derick, the waiter, spoke up "forget it Sir, it's on the house, courtesy of the beautiful lady by your side." He smirked while my mouth hung open and my eyes grew wide.

I wasn't the only one with a reaction as such, Luke had visibly gotten angrier and stormed off. I quickly apologised while dropping some hundred dollar bills on the table and running after Luke as much as I could in heels.

"Luke wait!" I shouted "Luke come on, I'm sorry." I didn't exactly know what I was sorry for but it was the only thing I could say.

Luke didn't slow down. No, he got into his beat up Mercedes and looked at me with so much disgust evident on his face. "To hell with you, your money, your beauty and your 3 month anniversary. Go fuck the waiter, slut!" He snarled.

"Luke," I gasped but he'd already sped off leaving me a crying mess. I briskly walked to my car and balled my eyes out before eventually deciding to head to the hospital.

Luke had episodes like this all the time and always found new things to say that hurt. But, I understood him, I always forgave him because I knew it was his pride.

By 12pm, I'd arrived the hospital and struggled to compose myself before stepping in.

The first person to notice my red eyes was Kenna, a friend on her second year of fellowship as a pediatrician. She knew about Luke and I. She knew I'd forgive him eventually. Her eyes held a strong disapproval as she walked towards me and engulfed me in a hug.

She smiled, "he's not worth it Kendra. Pull yourself together and get to work. I have to go." She said squeezing my shoulder as a sign of her support before walking away. I did as she said and got to work.

The day passed by in a blur. Nothing seemed to hold my interests and I already begun regretting my choice to cover the night shift.

At exactly 5pm, a young woman around her mid twenties was rushed into the hospital. She was wailing loudly and repeating "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again. She was bleeding between her legs and that was my cue to accompany the team bringing her in.

We had been in the ICU for more than 3 hours already and had managed to save both baby and mother.

Belinda James was 3 months pregnant and almost lost her baby. I couldn't begin to imagine what had gone wrong in her life.

She was transferred to a room and I was assigned to her. Around 10pm, I had to change her IV bag as no nurse was free to do it. How can a hospital this big be short-staffed? Beats me!

When I first approached her room, I'd heard the sound of soft cries. My heart ached for her. I gently opened the door and found her back to me as she cried.

"Mrs James, I'm Kendra, your assigned OB/Gyn," I whispered afraid to hurt her with even my voice. "Did you know you were 3 months pregnant?" I asked.

My question seemed to add to her pain because she sobbed even louder. She slowly sat up continuously uttering "I'm sorry." She sobbed and sobbed till she begun shaking and sobbing even more.

In a haze of confusion, I engulfed her in a hug. I cried with her. I cried for her. I cried for my relationship with Luke. I cried for the baby she almost lost.

She calmed down after some minutes of me holding her as though she would fall apart if I didn't. We had cried together.

"I'm sorry," we said in unison and I laughed. She merely gave a small smile before I spoke again.

"I'm sorry Mrs James. I don't usually cry with my patients," I laughed again and sniffled. "You could tell me what's wrong and I promise to help in the best way I can." I added.

She seemed to ponder over it for a solid 2 minutes before she begun speaking.

"A month ago, I lost my husband in a car accident. A drunk driver ran him over," she paused as I gasped and felt my heart break for her. She tried wiping her tears before she spoke again "he was all I had. I grew up in different foster homes, was bullied throughout middle to high school and I couldn't afford college. He had been my only anchor in this world since he'd asked me out to prom during senior year," she smiled at the memory "when he married me, his family disowned him for marrying a nobody. He was all I had. He was my lifeline. When he passed, his family took me to court and took everything away from me. It was too much for me to handle. My husband and I barely had friends because we spent each free minute together. I was alone. I am alone. He died with a part of me. The court asked me to vacate our house after his parents claimed his accounts and properties. I had nowhere to go. I fell into depression, I stopped eating, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't live anymore. I had been experiencing a lot of morning sickness and dizziness and I'd waved it off. I just needed my husband," she stopped and cried more.

I held her again, silently urging her to continue. "I went to the pharmacy to buy something I could overdose on and end my life. A kind lady had called me over because I looked extremely pale and ghastly. She asked me to explain the symptoms I'd been having so she could help me find something. I couldn't think of a lie and simply told her the truth. She'd asked me to take a pregnancy test in the restroom, it'd been positive. I couldn't believe it. My husband had left me with something which was half him half me. Before I could leave the restroom and let the lady know the results, my head felt light and I realized I was bleeding. I thought I'd lost the only thing Matt left me with. I thought I'd killed our baby. I'm sorry, I didn't know I was pregnant. If I did, I would've eaten better, slept better and I would have fought Matt's family harder. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Matt, I'm sorry..." She sobbed uncontrollably.

I understood her.

I felt for her. Life had been unkind to her. It wasn't her fault. A sudden surge of determination came over me as I spoke to her.

"Wipe your tears. That was the past, you're a fighter and you've got to keep fighting for your baby. Let your past motivate you to fight even more," I paused gathering in air for my next words, "from today, you're not alone. You and your baby are not alone. You have me. Let me help you, let me give your baby hope." I smiled.

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Expect a double update next week as my Christmas gift to you readers....

Love Joy.