Page 72 of A Twist of Poison

“You try to kill yourself?” I jolted at her question. She tutted. “Didn’t think so, girly. Your stomach wasn’t pumped luckily, and you threw up a lot last night, which you most likely don’t remember.” I didn’t. “Your blood work came back, and it’s mostly out of your system. It will probably flush through by tomorrow, then we’ll remove this IV and you can be on your merry way.”

I smiled gratefully at her and closed my eyes. I was exhausted. She patted my hand as she left. I knew it was in her job description to extend kindness to patients. To me though, it felt like a mini blessing.

I blinked open my eyes sometime later. I was laid towards the glass windows and the blinds had been slightly turned, most probably from earlier to stop the sun from getting in.

I stared at the darkened night sky. The stars were bright tonight, awaiting people to bask in their glow, to stare, to make a wish. I’d certainly done just that over the years.

A shuffled noise had my mind frozen. I rolled over holding my arm up so the IV wouldn’t pull out and be disconnected from my quick movement. I recognised that face, filled with a mirage of emotions. My disappointment towards Lizzie had cooled somewhat. I had no idea what point she wanted to achieve by turning up here though, to be at my bedside when I was knocked out and at my most vulnerable.

I coughed; my throat was still dry. She leapt up, bringing water with a straw to my lips.

“Thank you,” I muttered once finished, unsure what else to say. This was my best friend; I didn’t want to fight with her, but I had no energy to deal with the betrayal she believed I’d caused her. I didn’t, but until she had all the facts, she wouldn’t see it that way. There was no way I was informing her of every single detail, not a chance in hell. And after the way she’d spoken to me? My heart now had a Lizzie sized dent.

“Why are you here?” I croaked bluntly. She winced, like that question pained her, and fiddled with her hands before squaring her shoulders to look at me laid back in the hospital bed. I’d heightened the end, so I was in more of a sitting position.

“I was worried about you. You’re still my best friend, despite…” She let that thought trail off and I filled in the part mentally for her.Despite going behind her back and having a long-winded secret relationship with Adam.

I was grateful she was here for me. It meant we could get past this, eventually. I didn’t want to ever imagine a point in my life where I wouldn’t be able to lean on her unending friendship and support. That had happened over the last few weeks though and it felt like a limb had detached itself from me.

“We’ll talk,” I promised her, knowing that I wouldn’t be telling her the whole truth, but enough to keep the other questions at bay.

“I don’t forgive you, but I hate seeing you in here.” Her eyes flitted over me.I wouldn’t forgive me either.

I clasped her hand and she pulled away. We always used to grip each other in a silent,I’ll always be here. Her removal was deliberate, and God it hurt. Deeply. My nostrils flared as tears filled my eyes. Not her. I could live without everybody else, but her… she’d always been my person.

Silent tears tracked down my cheeks as she gave me one last look, full of conflicting emotions and left.She left.I’d lost her. He took her away for good too.

Chapter32

Milla

The next morning I’d pushed for immediate discharge, and shortly after the kind nurse from yesterday provided me with papers, shoving me out the hospital doors with a stern warning not to return.Didn’t plan on it.I’d gotten showered and dressed in clean clothing that my parents had dropped off in a bag the day before and grabbed a taxi back to my dorm room. I was grateful for it.

Dropping the bag on the couch, I sought a glass of water, downing it in one. I ambled to my bedroom, finding the same baby blue paper notebook I used each year, for the same reason and for one particular course of action.

My yearly ritual. It was for me, for him.

Settling myself onto the comfortable couch, I fingered the edges of the torn-out pages from previous years with sadness. Then I took pen to paper.

He took you away from me. He told me you were safe as they ripped you from my arms after allowing me to hold you for that fractional moment in time, the moment where the world halted and came into focus. Then you were gone, your vibrant cry stamped itself permanently onto my skin, sizzled deeply into my veins and shot itself directly into my heart. My inner self tucked you away safely, to only a place you could reach. As if you had to become inaccessible to me, to protect us both.

I screamed. I cried. I prayed.

Grief throttled me. I contemplated suicide, but I held strong and didn’t drown, barely.

He said you weighed five pounds, two ounces. Tiny, delicate thing.

I lost you, baby boy…

You turned three years old two days ago. At three thirty-four AM. It’s been too long since I’ve held you. I never forgot you, how could I?

You had mahogany hair like me, blue eyes with a hint of violet, but it wasn’t pronounced. One look at you, my heart throbbed painfully. Breaking all over again.

I swear, I’d love you if I could. If I was given the chance to keep you.

Your dad allowed me a semblance of humanity in between his savagery, allowing the friend I knew him to be once before, shine through. I got to choose your first and middle name. Kai Dean. He gave you his last name, West.

Kai Dean West.

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