Page 38 of Scandalously Yours

Alessia

“We have a battered woman in room E3,” the nurse told me as I grabbed the chart from the door.

“Thanks,” I told her, then went to open the folder.

Being an emergency medicine doctor in New York City, there was never a shortage of people presenting with injuries from abuse. Whether it be from a fight, a mugging, or worse, so I was pretty used to it by now. Domestic violence victims were always the worst. Having been lucky enough to grow up with perfect role models when it came to relationships, I had known of friends back home who had not been able to say the same. I also knew of school kids, including one girl at Weill Cornell, who was stalked and eventually killed on campus during a domestic disturbance.

I blew out a breath, then glanced down at the chart. In that moment, the entire thing fell from my hands onto the floor. The nurse looked at me as I stood there in shock, then quickly bent down, and retrieved the papers that had fallen.

“Are you okay, Dr. Johnston?” she asked.

I blinked at her question, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay. If you need anything, I’ll be making my rounds.”

“Thanks,” I told her again, and once she disappeared around the corner, I righted the pages and stared down at the information populated. Evidently, Hayley had been to the emergency room with lacerations and bruising she stated she got during a fight. My eyes continued to skim the statement that the triage nurse was able to obtain. There was no way Kristopher had hurt her like that.

I took a deep breath, then entered the room. My breath hitched in my throat as soon as Hayley turned around. The woman in front of me was nothing like the one who had stood in my living room and threatened me against seeing her ex again. I still couldn’t wrap my head around Kris doing something like this to her, but as a doctor, I had a responsibility to check her injuries and base any opinions on fact rather than hearsay.

“Mrs. Simon,” I said, and just referring to her like that made my throat burn as if I had swallowed a mouthful of glass. “You stated that you had gotten into a fight—”

“Not a fight, dear,” she told me. “I was assaulted by my husband.”

I wanted to correct her, but it wasn’t my place. I had to pretend as if Kristopher meant nothing to me considering that several weeks had passed since our supposed break-up. “Your husband.” I corrected myself. “What happened tonight?”

She was about to answer when the door opened and the nurse from earlier reappeared with a plastic kit in her hands. Abby handed it to me, and I knew immediately what it was. Fear over what this would do to Kristopher filled me. “What is this for?”

“I requested one,” Hayley said, finally speaking up. “My husband attacked me this evening and he...”

Her voice trailed off, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was truly this good of an actress, or if I was just that bad a judge of character. The emotion in Hayley’s tone was one of anguish, but that could be faked. Right?

“Her chart doesn’t mention anything about a sexual encounter,” I began to say before Hayley cut me off.

“I-I hadn’t told the triage nurse everything. I was scared.” She stammered in the right places, and her voice sounded so genuine that it was getting harder to determine whether this was some act of hers, or the actual truth. If the latter was correct, I was in love with a monster.

I shook that thought away. Abby then spoke up, “I’m going to administer the exam, Dr. Johnston. Do you mind stepping out of the room?”

I shook my head, then went back out into the hallway. I had no way of knowing what all was being discussed in there, and if any of it was even true. I’ve never been a “blame the victim” person, but the things that Kris had told me about his ex had me doing that, anyway. If he had somehow hurt her, I would of course want there to be justice. But if not, she could be ruining his career with every passing second.

I grabbed the phone from my pocket as I tried to determine what to do. It was unethical to inform Kristopher that Hayley was there as a patient, not counting it was against the law. I turned it over in my hand a few times before sliding it back into my pocket. There were a number of things I would do for the man I loved, but sacrificing my career wasn’t one of them.

I wanted to believe Hayley was lying about it all, and if she was, the truth would come out eventually. I couldn’t even fathom thinking that the man I had grown to know over the last few months was even capable of anything like this. I left the hallway and disappeared into one of the empty patient rooms. I walked over to the sink, then splashed some cold water onto my face. I needed to pull myself together. After taking a few deep breaths, I emerged into the hallway just in time to see Abby leaving Hayley’s room.

I returned, and could see the smirk on the blonde. She no longer looked like someone who was scared. In fact, she looked as if her plan had worked, and I knew in that moment that everything she had said was a lie. If Kristopher hadn’t been the one to put these marks on her, then who did?

“I need to check out your injuries now, Mrs. Ba—”

“It’s still Simon,” she interrupted. “And it’s going to be for a long time. I know you didn’t seriously think you would be enough woman for him. You’re what? Like twenty? Are you even old enough to drink?”

I kept my composure the best that I could. “I’m actually twenty-eight years old, not that it is any of your business. And we’re not talking about me, but rather how you got these injuries.”

Hayley let out a huff, then got off of the bed. I could see the dark bruising not only on her neck, but down her arm where she appeared to have fingerprint bruises. I could remember the times I had been with Kristopher. He would grip my hips while fucking me, often leaving similar types of marks on me. Had he not struck her in anger, but had been trying to pleasure her in bed instead?

I didn’t know which prospect was worse. I grabbed my pen out of my pocket and began to scribble some things down on my chart. When I looked up, she was already dressed. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I am. I’ve had the rape kit done, and you’ve documented my injuries. Those are the only things I need. I’m sure the detectives will be following up with you soon,” she told me, and I knew the color had drained from my face at the latter.

“I haven’t even had the chance to finish examining you myself. I—”

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