“Gentlemen.” A stern-faced nurse comes in. “It’s well past visiting hours, and my patient needs to rest.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Landon and my father speak in unison and then glare at each other.
If I wasn’t so miserable, I might have laughed.
The two of them are talking over each other now, arguing like I have no say in the matter and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Stop, I think to myself, willing them to understand.
Another tear leaks from my eye and I swipe at it angrily as they continue to argue.
I hate crying. Hate showing weakness. Hate everything about what’s happening.
“Stop!” I choke out, my hands balling into fists. “Just fucking stop!”
They both turn in surprise.
“I’m too tired and stressed to listen to this. I don’t expect either of you to stay.” For some reason, more tears leak out, and I grit my teeth as I try to regain control. “I can’t listen…to anymore…” I break down all over again, covering my face with my hands. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. Well,I probably do, somewhere deep down in the darkest recesses of my mind, but I can’t think that hard.
All I can seem to do is cry.
And cry some more.
“That’s it.” The nurse says something I can’t hear but less than a minute later, the room is quiet and she’s bustling around. “The doctor said I could give you something to help you relax. Would you like that?”
“No…” I pause. “Yes. I don’t know.”
“You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. There’s no need to suffer. Let me give you something that’ll help you sleep. Tomorrow, when you wake up, you’ll feel so much better.”
“Can I take a shower tomorrow?” I whisper.
She nods solemnly. “Absolutely.”
“Why do I keep crying?”
“Trauma. Your mind and body’s way of trying to cope with it all. That’s why you should take the meds. But only if you’re okay with it.”
I think about it, and suddenly I don’t care about anything but blissful oblivion.
Sleep.
Nothing to think about, talk about or do—just rest.
“Yes,” I say softly. “I’m so…tired.”
“Of course, you are.” She nods, straightening the bed. “Would you like another blanket? You’re shivering.”
I hadn’t even realized I was cold until she said it.
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Alone for the first time in days, I snuggle deeper into the pillow, my thoughts racing. I don’t know what I’m going to do to get past this but there’s an overwhelming need to check out completely. If that means more drugs, even though I hate how they make me feel, I’ll deal with it.
