HARLOW
“So overall, I think we’ll keep you here for one more night, and then you can be discharged.”
“Will I need to come back here for the follow-up appointments that you mentioned?”
“Dr. Prescott, who you met yesterday, he would be who you’ll have your follow-up with. He’ll be in here again for rounds this afternoon. You can go over the specifics with him. I would also suggest you make an appointment with Petra, I think she is really going to be a support system for you.”
Dr. Holmes tucks his tablet away and gives me a single nod before walking out the door once again. The nurse that is assigned to me today checks my vitals once more and starts the process of removing the IV port from my arm.
“I bet you’re happy to be going home, aren’t you?”
“I would be happier if I felt like I had a place called home.” The nurse looks at me with sad eyes and pats my forearm a bit. “I’m sorry, I probably just brought your mood down too. I’m not usually this...well this.”
“I think you have every right to feel whatever feelings you have going on right now. I’m not here to judge that. I cannot imagine what you’re going through right now and if those types of comments are what you need to let out right now, then so be it. What about that tall drink of water that has barely left this place, do you aftercare plans involved him at all?”
I manage to let out a genuine small laugh at her comments on Lyle. He hasn’t left for more than a quick trip somewhere since I was brought in a week ago. He’s become pretty popular amongst the nurses working on this floor. At first, they were quiet about it, I happened to hear two of them talking about him while they thought I was sleeping. Finally, I just straight up commented about it and now they’re very open with their little crushes.
I can’t blame them though. I still catch myself staring at his body as he walks into a room and commands it. That fact that he’s my boyfriend and somehow he wants to be here with me? I have to pinch myself sometimes to remind myself that it is true.
“I guess we haven’t really talked about where I was going once I left here. Maybe with him? Still doesn’t feel like that is home. It was going to be home, eventually, but now it feels so forced.”
“Well take your time. If you want some names and numbers of places that can help you get a place to stay, I can do that.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you though.”
“You’re welcome. How does your arm feel? Need any ice?”
I flex the arm that has been hooked up to an IV for medication purposes and smile at her. “Feels great, no ice needed. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” The door opens and Lyle steps in with a vase of flowers and a big smile on his face. “Looks like your water is here.” She winks at me and gives Lyle a big smile on her way out.
“Hey there.” Lyle presses a kiss softly against the side of my jaw, attempting to avoid my shattered cheek, and sets the flowers on the table next to me. “These are for you.”
“They’re really pretty. You know you don’t have to bring me stuff all the time, right?”
“I know, but I was picking up some other things and I saw them at the checkout and they were beautiful and thought they might make you smile.”
“You know, if I wasn’t already in love with you, I’d certainly swoon.”
Lyle stops in his footsteps and turns back around to face me. “What did you say?”
Realizing what I had said, I started to backtrack my statement. I envisioned him running out that door and never coming back and it scared the shit out of me. “I just, I said, I mean it was one of those phrases, you know?”
He stands over my hospital bed and gently places his hand on the side of the face that isn’t wrecked. “Tell me what you said, Harlow.”
“I said I love you.”
“Did you mean it? Not as a phrase or a slip or any of that sit, Harlow, did you mean it?”
“Yes…”
“Fuck...I wish your face wasn’t hurting right now, sweetness, because I’d like to kiss you so fucking hard right now. I don’t want to hurt you though, but fuck I want to kiss you. I love you too, Harlow. I love you so damn much that I wish I could take every ounce of pain away from you and suffer through it myself because this is all my damn fault and it isn’t fair.”
“You love me?”
“More than anything in my life.”
“This isn’t your fault, Lyle. Is that why you haven’t left and why you’ve been so sweet? You just blame yourself? You’re trying to make things better or something?”
“It’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I don’t want you to be alone. Because your fucked up family sure as hell isn’t stepping foot in here to see you and I don’t want you to feel lonely or scared. Damn girl, I’m here because I love you. Nothing more, nothing less.” He takes a seat on the hospital bed and holds my hands. “I’m not saying that I don’t blame myself, because I do. I feel this giant hole in my chest because of what happened….”
“This isn’t your fault. You didn’t come up with some blame to get my ex-boyfriend to take me somewhere. You didn’t use your fists to put these bruises on my body. You didn’t put yourself all of the places I didn’t want you and violate me in words beyond description. You didn’t do any of that stuff, you can’t blame yourself anymore than I can blame myself for being dumb to go with him that night.”
“All those words may be true, beautiful, but your family was playing full court press trying to get you with fuckface because you were with me. My love for you caused all this damn pain.”
“It’s not true.”
“It feels that way, sweetness. I’m going to spend the rest of our lives showing you that choosing me wasn’t in vain.”
“But I don’t think that.”
“Then maybe I just have to prove it to myself.”
“I love you.” I reach up and touch his scruffy facial hair that he hasn’t taken care of in a week since he’s been here everyday and every night.
“I love you too, Sweetness. You’re coming home with me tomorrow, right?”
“If you’ll have me.”
He lets out a loud laugh and throws his head back. “Seriously, woman, haven’t you been listening to anything that I’ve said? I love you. I want you to come live with me and we’ll kind of figure else out as we go along.”
“That simple?”
“It’s that simple. What do you say?”
“What else is there to say? I guess we’re going this. I’m living in a bunkhouse.”
“That’s the spirit!”
Since I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, Lyle wanted to make sure that I had clothes to wear home and not be stuck wearing hospital scrubs. All the clothes that I had already given to im were at him place, four hours, so rather than drive all the way there, he went to the Target in town to grab a few things for me. He was fine with me explaining what yoga pants and tank tops were, but I certainly noticed the look in his eyes when I started talking to him about bras and panties.
Since I’m able to move around more, I find myself spending less and less time in the bed. I happened to be over on the couch and saw my phone sticking out of the bag of odds and ends that ended up on the floor. Glutton for punishment, I turned on the phone and let it load. As expected, there is a flood of text messages and a billion missed calls. For the fake of my mental health, I delete everything without reading anything.
I scroll through social media sites, nothing that I don’t see anything about me or anybody reaching out asking about me. When I think about it, most of the people on my friends list are people I haven’t seen in months, if not years. Once I came back from college, my life was about two things: the church and finding a husband. Most friends from college didn’t fit into that. After so many missed calls, non-responded to text messages, and invitations to events that you decline, they move from friends to people that you used to know.
My phone begins to vibrate and I almost drop it, lost in my thoughts. I look down and see that it is my sister calling. My finger hovers over the decline button, but something pulls at me to take her call and I hit the green button instead.
“Abby?”
“Oh thank Jesus, Low, you have no idea have worried sick we have all been.”
“Who is “we”?”
“Are you crazy? Who do you think? Mom, Dad, Leo and I. It’s been a week. We had to hear from one of the ladies that volunteers to hand out cookies to patients that you were even IN the hospital.”
“Yeah, well, I told them not to call any of you.”
“Why would you do that? We have all been worried sick. What did you tell the cops? Dad and Mom have been called into the station TWICE and I had to go in their yesterday.”
“I just told them the truth, Abs.”
“What truth? I don’t understand. The last I saw you, you were fine. How could you blame me for this? Do you know they’re talking about charging the three of us as accessories to your assault?”
“I guess they might.”
“How can you be so flippant? We’re your FAMILY!”
“Did you know that Samuel was coming that night?”
“I didn’t know he was able to be violent like that, Low.”
“I asked a question, Abby. Did you know he was going to be there? Did you plan to leave once he came, knowing that I’d take a ride home with him?”
“It’s not like that. He said that he loved you and he just needed one more chance. Mom and Dad said that you were all meant for each other and we all agreed that if he just got the chance to make things right with you and start over that you both would be happy. I swear I didn’t know that he was going to...do that.”
“Do you even know what THAT is?”
“No, not really. I’m sorry, Low. If you’d just let me come and see you and talk to you.”
“No.”
“You’re my sister! I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“The answer is no, Abby. I wouldn’t wish what happened to me on my worst enemy and you had a direct hand in it happening to me. I can’t do this. I can’t put any emotional strength into building us, because I need to rebuild myself from everything he took from me.”
“I could help!”
“IT’S YOUR FUCKIN FAULT!”
I press the end button and throw the phone across the room. It smashes as it hits the wall and then falls to the ground. I start to sob uncontrollably, rocking myself back and forth trying to calm myself. I don’t hear anybody come in, but while I’m screaming and crying, a large set of arms wrap around me. I can’t see him, but every other sense tells me that Lyle is holding me, rocking with me, being my rock once again.
I feel like half of a person right now. Every moment I feel like I’m healing, I get knocked back down and feel like it is never going to get better. I’m in love for the first time in my life and I should be so excited for it, but my heart is barely afloat. It is drowning in pain and tragedy. How long can this continue? How long until Lyle doesn’t want to put up with my broken soul?