Page 38 of Damaged
Chapter Seventeen
Brett
These assholes won’t let me up to see her. After I was able to talk, I asked Mary where Eva was and rushed over here. Now they won’t let me see her. Telling me I need to come back during visiting hours. Not on their fucking lives. I’m not leaving.
The woman finally calls up to Eva’s room and I stand there with my arms crossed waiting. She tells her an irate man is here. They haven’t seen shit. If they don’t let me up there they’ll see irate.
“Sir, she said she’ll talk to you,” the receptionist says, handing me the phone.
“Eva?”
“Brett, what are you doing? Go home,” she says, sounding like she’s crying.
“Not a chance. I need to see you, right now.” I look at the receptionist and continue. “I’ll risk getting arrested.” Yeah, she threatened to call the cops.
“Please Brett, just go,” she says, choking back a sob.
“I’ll be right up,” I saying, hanging up the phone. “She’s crying because she’s scared and alone. What if it were you up there? All alone, terrified. What if the one person you needed most wasn’t allowed up to see you?” I talk in a low voice, leaning my arm along the counter.
“Sir, it’s not that I don’t want to help. It’s that I can’t,” she says, letting out a sigh.
“Go to the bathroom.”
“What?” she asks, dipping her eyebrows.
“You won’t see anything if you aren’t here. Go. Please.”
She’s thinking about it, turning her head to see who’s around. “Damn it. Don’t make me regret this,” she hisses, as she walks away.
Rushing to the elevators, I get on and hit the button for the third floor. Closing my eyes, I lean against the wall. “Please, I’m begging here. Don’t let me lose her,” I whisper.
The chime of the elevator door opening has me snap my eyes open. Room 312 that’s where I’m headed. I try following the signs, but it’s like a fucking maze. I hate the hospital. The smell of antiseptic, the beeping of the machines, the hollow feel. People crying, patients yelling, doctors whispering.
“Sir, can I help you?” A nurse asks.
Fuck. “I seem to have gotten lost getting back to my wife. Room 312,” I say, giving her a small grin.
A huge smile takes over her face and she nods. “Happens all the time. Come on I’ll show you how to get back.”
Christ, I just said she was my wife. My wife. Suddenly my throat feels tight and my heart feels like it’s bleeding. The world is spinning a hundred miles an hour, but I’m barely moving. I can’t lose her. I’ll marry her, I’ll take care of her, I’ll end my own life to save hers.
“Here you go,” the nurse says, when we reach the room.
“Thank you,” I whisper and walk inside.
My knees almost give out of me seeing her lying there. She doesn’t look sick, she looks absolutely beautiful, but she’s crying. Not tears rolling down her cheeks, but sobbing the second she sees me. She covers her face with her hands as her body shakes with the force of her cry.
Rushing to the bed, I push down the bar and climb in pulling her to me. Wrapping my arms around her, she rests her face against my chest, gripping my shirt in her hands. Her tears are wetting my shirt as she silently sobs. My arms tighten around her as I kiss the top of her head. I can count the number of times I’ve cried in my life on one hand. But this...her so broken and holding onto me, has me fighting my fucking hardest not to break down.
“I’ve got you, Eva. I’m right here,” I whisper, closing my eyes.
She ends up crying herself to sleep on me and I don’t care that I’m hanging off the bed in the most uncomfortable position. Because honestly having her in my arms makes me feel whole. We haven’t said anything yet, she just cried while I held her tight. I know all too well what it’s like when someone tries to push you into talking. She’ll talk to me when she’s ready and until then I’ll be here waiting, taking care of her.
“I need to get some blood,” the nurse says a bit too loudly as she walk in.
“She just fell asleep,” I say.
“I understand, but it needs to be done,” she says, snapping on her gloves.
