Sleeping Beauty [10:02p]: Are you ok?
A [10:02p]: I'm enraged. Her boyfriend was beating her, Aurora.
Sleeping Beauty [10:04p]: Is anyone else there with her? And standing her up….that’s not like you at all. Well…things happen for a reason…maybe you were supposed to stand her up last week, so you could be there for her tonight.
“You can go,” Sarah whispers so quietly that I barely hear her.
My eyes flicker to her, momentarily startled by her voice piercing the quietness of the sterile hospital room. I catch her eye, and my heart tugs at the emptiness and pain I find there. Leaning to the side, I slide my phone into my back pocket and hope like hell my eyes look kind as I regard her.
Because our bullshit professional stand-off dissipated the minute I sank down onto that floor with her in my arms.
“No, I’m staying. Why would I leave you? You have no car, no nothing,” I say softly. Cognizant of her abuse, I purposefully keep my tone low and non-threatening as I lean forward and clasp my hands in between my knees. Not even able to imagine what she must be feeling right now. “Do you want me to contact anyone? Your parents…or a sibling, maybe?”
Her gaze averts away, letting me know that this is a sore spot for her.
“No. No one knew about my pregnancy," she replies, blinking and resuming her stare at the window next to me.
I frown, biting the inside of my cheek before pressing, "Are…Are you sure? It's no problem, I promise—"
"—My parents live in California," she interrupts me quietly, "and…we’re just not that close, honestly. I messaged my best friends to come. So, you can go. You must be very tired.”
Curious that she's mustered any energy to care about how I'm feeling has me tightening uncomfortably. Staying still, and silent, I stare at her profile as she continues to look off towards the window, her eyes scarily blank. Selfishly I want her to look at me. But it's not use because it wouldn't help. I wish my eyes could offer hope and warmth like other people do.
Maybe I could help heal her if they did.
The nurse verified she was twelve weeks pregnant, right at her second trimester. The fact she was so far along and hadn’t told anyone about it is just as concerning as it was heartbreaking.
My hands clench helplessly as a singular tear slips out of her eye, falling across her nose and hitting the pillow under her head. She stays unmoving. Needing to be closer to her, I rise and drag my chair up to her bed. "I'm not tired, sweetheart," I murmur. Daringly, I reach forward and wipe gently at her face with my thumb, smoothing her tears away, caressing her soft skin.
There's just something about this woman that speaks to me.
Sighing to myself, I lower my hand and place it onto hers, feeling she's ice cold. She's got her delicate fingers wrapped around the blanket, but I work my hand over hers and grip it tightly. Rubbing my thumb along the veins present under her skin, I take a deep breath before speaking.
“Sarah, you’re going to get through this.” I lean forward further, tightening my hand slightly more on hers.
She doesn't squeeze back. The blank look in her eye is worrisome; the girl that was so full of life in my office just last week looks like she's dying. She stays silent, and a pinched feeling starts in my chest.
I don't want this for her, no matter our professional history.
“Can I get you anything? A change of clothes? Anything?” I enquire quietly. The door opening and the nurse walking in grabs my attention, forcing me to cut my words off. She gives usa quiet greeting, and I observe carefully as she looks at Sarah’s vitals before leaving us alone once more. Sarah turns her head to glance at me and takes a slow, deep breath.
“My friends are coming to get me, and then they're going to stop by my office so I can change my clothes.” She pauses. “You really can go…it’s very late—"
"Please don't ask me to leave you again," I say hoarsely, feeling my face warm. My eyes prick with emotion too acute for me to name right now, but I do know this: I'd rather walk on glass right now than leave her side.
"Okay," she whispers, her eyes welling with tears. "Thank you for staying with me.”
I take a second to observe her quietly, seeing the rosy flush to her nose, her cheeks, and the red tint to her eyes. The poor girl looks tired, distraught, lost. I frown, her words finally sinking into my consciousness making a warning bell go off.
“Your office…for a change of clothes?” I parrot back, trying to understand.
Just then, there's a loud commotion in the hallway, and a young, fit but slender African American man comes barreling into the room.
He spots Sarah quickly, and a distraught expression crosses his features before he quickly schools his expression into one of quiet strength. As the man marches up to the bed and leans down into her face, I get up hastily, preparing to throw myself at this person. However, the man starts talking, ignoring my presence.
“SJ!Look at me, baby girl,” he says, his tone strained. His black eyebrows knit together as his hands came out to move her head slightly to look at him. Concerned, I look down at Sarah, seeing she stays staring, like she doesn’t hear. The man continues, “Sarah,Brandonis here!” His brow lowers into a thunderous expression. “And what the fuck?He did this to you?"
"Brandon?"Sarah's squeaks. Her eyes go wide with fear as her hand tightens on mine, becoming clammy and cold.
