Page 41 of The Bones We Break
“Ana? You still with me?” I look down at her face again, her eyelids begin to droop over her ocean eyes again. Picking up speed I stride into the hospital, the bright lights and the smell of antiseptic hit me straight in the face. “I need help!” I shout out to the open room and a nurse comes sprinting over to me, her eyes widening at the state of Ana before she smooths out her features.
“Here, lay her on this bed. Can you tell me what’s happened? I’ll get a doctor right away.” The nurse guides me towards a free hospital bed and I gently lay Ana down onto the stark white sheets, the red crimson from her clothes begins to stain and bloom over the sheet. The nurse begins to do a quick examination over Ana’s body as I explain the painful scene that I found her in. Stepping back, I allow the nurse to do her job but I’m still able to keep Ana within reaching distance. The nurse moves with efficiency, circling around Ana’s body, checking her pupils before slipping a heart rate monitor on her finger. The machine at the side of the bed comes to life as Ana’s heart beat jumps across the screen. It’s slow, but steady. Keeping my gaze laser focused on Ana, terrified that she’ll just slip away from me, the nurse begins to roll up the long sleeves that cover her arms. My heart plummets into my stomach at rapid speed as I take in the injuries that line her creamy skin. Slashes upon slashes cover the expanse of her arm, some of them are still fresh. The long, deep gash that almost killed her sits right in the middle of the war zone. Deep red blood has begun to clot and scabtogether around the wound and my heart fucking breaks right in two.
Ana begins to silently sob as she clocks me staring at her arms, shame and guilt flashing across her features. The nurse carefully wipes Ana’s arm before wrapping the wound in a white gauze bandage.
“I’ll let her rest for a moment, she’s clearly been through enough. She’s stable for now which is good so I’ll fetch a doctor to come and see her. Can I ask if you’re family?” Her voice is calming as she looks back at Ana before bringing her gaze back to me.
“I.. er, I’m her boyfriend. She has no other family here.” I blurt out without even thinking but I know if I told them that I was just a friend she would be left here alone. The nurse pauses for a moment, pondering over my answer before she gives me a small smile and leaves, pulling the blue curtains around the bed.
Spotting a chair at the end of the bed, I drag it across the grey floor to Ana’s side and take a seat. My bones ache from all the tension that I’m holding in, trying to keep everything together for Ana’s sake. Her face is turned away from me and I begin to think that she’s fallen asleep until I hear her quiet cries. The knife that’s already lodged into my heart turns, digging deeper into the muscle.
“Look at me, Ana.” I say gently but she shakes her head no. “Please look at me Ana, I need to see with my own eyes that you’re really here.” I lean further forward in the chair and take her cold, blood splattered hand in between both of mine, feeling the softness of her skin on mine. The movement has Ana turning her head to look down at her hand that’s in mine, then her empty crystal eyes clash with my forest green ones. Her smooth bottom lip begins to wobble, tears glaze over her eyesand spill down her face like rain. The clear droplets trail down her round cheeks until they drop from her chin onto her clothes.
“I’m so ashamed, Dean.” She admits, her gaze lowering, her voice barely a whisper. My heart aches at the sight of her. Without hesitation, I release one of my hands that’s wrapped around hers and bring it to her face, tipping her chin up to face me. The sadness that spreads across her features is one of pure agony. “I brought you into this and I shouldn’t have, you don’t deserve any of this. You shouldn’t even be here, you have a life, one where I’m not tainting it with my issues.” She speaks so softly, her voice so full of sadness.
“I don’t think you understand, Ana.” I start. “I want to be here with you. I want to take this pain away from you and put it on myself just so you don’t have to feel this way. Let me be here for you.” My tone is firm as I speak to her, her eyes never leave mine as she takes in every word I’m saying. She brings her bottom lip between her teeth then releases it, the plump flesh springing back into place.
“We don’t even know each other that well Dean, how can you want to be involved in this?” I drop my hand from her face and wrap it back around her hand. I give her a smirk and her eyes twinkle. “Then let’s get to know each other shall we. We can play speed dating but you only get to sit at my table and no one else’s.” I warn, my voice full of humour but I mean every single word. A small laugh slips from her lips and my mood instantly lifts at hearing the sweet sound.
“Okay, I’ll play. I’ll go first.” She takes a deep breath and begins to introduce herself like we’re complete strangers on a first date. I never take my eyes off her as she begins to speak. “I’m Annabelle.. Murphy.” She uses her maiden name and I beam at the small gesture. “Ana for short. I’m 28 years old. My birthday is in October. I love to read, well, I used to read a lot.”Her eyes dip as she mentions her love for reading, like her mind has wandered off to a dark place. She clears her throat and lifts her head to begin speaking again, and I make a mental note to ask her about her books.
“I’m an only child and I love to watch horror films under a cosy blanket with the candles lit.” A spark of brightness comes back into her eyes as she talks about her hobbies and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “I used to spend my downtime binge watching true crime documentaries too, and I also used to work in a law firm.” The way she speaks in the past tense makes me wonder about everything she’s lost the moment that she met Ricky.
“Your turn Mr Sinclair.” The term sends a rush through my body and my eyes bore into her. Clearing my throat, I introduce myself to this extraordinary woman.
“Nice to meet you Annabelle, I’m Dean Sinclair. I’m 38. I’m an August baby and an only child too. I can’t even remember the last time I opened a book but I’m intrigued to know what you like to read.” My eyes scan her face as a crimson flush runs up her neck and blooms over her cheeks. I give her a quizzical look at her reaction and a shy laugh falls from her mouth, her rich hair falling over her face as her head falls forward to hide her embarrassment.
I tip her chin up again. “Hey now, don’t go hiding on me. Tell me more.” I tease her.
“No. It’s nothing, they’re just books I promise!”
“Well going off your reaction they don’t just sound like books to me.”
“I just wasn’t expecting to be questioned on my book choices, that’s all.” Ana lifts her chin in confidence, her perfect mouth tipping up in the corner. “Maybe if you tell me more aboutyourself I’ll tell you about my reading preferences.”
She challenges me and I begin to speak again. “I’ll hold you to that.” A subtle flirtiness in my tone. “I joined the Marines in my early twenties after leaving home. My childhood wasn’t great so I knew I needed to get out. After I came home I met my best friend Eli and we joined forces for me to become a contract hitman.” Her face pales at my admittance.
“Wait, so you’ve..Killedpeople?” She almost whispers the last part like it’s a forbidden phrase. “If I said that I had, would that bother you?” I wait, my potential future with her hanging in the balance in case she can’t accept my previous job. Not many people could and I wouldn’t blame her for feeling that way. She swallows and brushes her thumb over my hand that’s been connected with hers this whole time.
“With the things that I’ve been through, I don’t think anything could possibly shock me any more. So, to answer your question. No, it doesn’t bother me and it doesn’t change how I see your character. I know in my bones that you’re a good man, and I think my trauma calls to the trauma I can see in your eyes. You’ve been through things and made it out to the other side but not without the mental wounds to prove it.” I’m left speechless at her statement and I have to allow myself a moment to collect my thoughts. The walls I had built up around myself after my last job have started to crumble around me as she begins to knock them down, brick by brick until I’m left feeling raw and vulnerable. I swallow the hard lump that’s gathered in my throat.
“I think I like that answer.” I simply say as we continue to get to know each other, asking one another random questions until my face aches from smiling at her answers. There’s so much more to Ana than meets the eye. Yes, she’s hurting and broken down but she’s so fucking strong. Even after what she attemptedshe’s still here, showing up and fighting and I’m beginning to love that about her.
Depression is a funny thing isn’t it? How can I be smiling and laughing with someone, yet no more than a few hours ago I attempted to take my own life. To rid myself of this earth.
Dean brings a lightness to my life that I’ve never felt before, like I can freely be myself around him even if I am a bit battered and broken. He chooses to hold all the shattered pieces together and I’m more than willing to let him. He never once left my bedside at the hospital even when I told him to go home and rest, to check on Lyla, to have something to eat. He just told me that he would be fine and I was what mattered the most, and that made my broken heart beat a little louder than usual.
I never even bothered to correct him when he introduced himself as my boyfriend to the nurse, maybe I was starting to like the sound of it but I know deep down that it would be too soon for things of that nature. My wounds, physically and mentally are still very much broken wide open and raw and Dean doesn’t deserve that version of me.
After a few hours of genuine conversation between me and Dean a doctor finally arrived to assess my wounds, along with a mental health professional. I hear footsteps tapping along the shiny hard floor of the hospital, coming closer to where I’msitting in the bed, the blue curtain swinging open, the sound of the metal rail makes me lift my head to look up from my hands that are twisted together to keep me from fidgeting. A tall doctor enters the space, wavy salt and pepper hair swoops back off of his face to reveal his strong features and a blonde haired woman with heavy black framed glasses stands behind him. Her skin is beautiful, a warm olive tone that compliments her vibrant green eyes. Her hair is pulled back into a perfect bun. Quickly, I look away and down at my own appearance. My hair is a mess and tangled, the black waves falling haphazardly. My jeans are stained with patches of dark, dried blood, and the Metallica t-shirt is crumbled, the sleeves rolled up, the white bandages wrapped around my arm on show. A stab of shame hits me right in the centre of my chest and I begin to pick at the sensitive skin around my fingernails until they become sore and red. I feel the moment Dean’s warm hand wraps around mine again, instantly putting an end to the torture I’m bringing onto my skin. Tears began to well in my eyes again, and I grip my bottom lip into my mouth to stop it from trembling.
“Hey.” Dean’s gentle tone washes over me, wrapping around me like a soft blanket. “You’re okay.” He reassures me like always and I nod my head face the doctor again.
“Hi, Ana. My name is Doctor Morgan and this is Doctor Phillips.” He turns to gesture towards the blonde woman before speaking to me again. “And I assume that I’m okay to speak in front of your boyfriend?” Doctor Morgan leaves the question hanging in the air and I take a quick look at Dean to make sure he’s comfortable with this. He simply nods and gives me a warm smile.
“Yes, sorry, this is Dean. My.. boyfriend.” I stutter out and both doctors outstretch their hands towards Dean. He gives them both a firm handshake before retrieving my hands in hisagain.
“Perfect. So, I’m simply here to check over your wounds again just to make sure everything is okay, that there’s no infections beginning to start and possibly close the larger wound on your forearm. Once I’ve done that I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Doctor Phillips. Does that sound alright with you?” He pulls a pair of white latex gloves from his white coat, slipping his hands inside. I shift uncomfortably in bed.
