Take a Breath (Take #1) - Jaimie Roberts Page 0,128
been through a lot during the last few days, but your vital signs are getting stronger by the minute. You’re one hell of a fighter.” He offers a soft smile before turning to Jake. “Now Mr. Bennett, if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside a minute, so we can give Ana a quick once-over.” Jake looks reluctant, but he does as he’s told.
The doctor checks my chest and my eyes. They’d noticed my ankle was a bit swollen when I came in, so they x-rayed it and tell me that it’s fine; I’ve just had a very bad sprain. He checks my bruises and asks me about the cuts, which I explain. He then has me wriggle my toes, while he checks to see if they are reacting the way that they should. Luckily, everything’s okay. At that point, he’s finally satisfied that the catheter can be taken out. I will finally be able to get up to use the restroom whenever I wish without any assistance. I am certainly not about to allow a tube to act for me while I’m conscious enough to do these kinds of things the way nature intended. Intellectually, I know this feeling is only in my head and is not an actual need. With that in mind, I try to be patient as Dr. Robinson removes the catheter, which is a little uncomfortable but a tremendous relief in the end. The nurse then helps me up and moves me to the edge of the bed.
By the time the doctor opens the door for Jake to come in, I can tell by his rigid posture he’s been pacing up and down the halls outside. I have to let out a little chuckle, although it hurts all over to do so. Jake notices my discomfort, so comes running over to me.
Helping me up, Jake takes me towards the bathroom. I motion to him that I think I can do this by myself and shut the door behind me. I walk over to the toilet, my ankle still sore and my legs wobbly, but I manage it all still the same.
When I get to the sink to wash my hands, I freeze. I can hardly recognize myself. I have bruises on the side of my head and finger mark bruises on my neck. My eyes are puffy and red, and my hair looks like straw.
I let out a sob, and Jake shouts my name through the door. When I fail to answer, he barges his way in and sees my face through the mirror. He immediately understands what’s wrong as his face changes from worry to sympathy.
He walks over to me and lifts me into his arms. He holds me as I cry into his shoulder, but the pain in my throat is excruciating. He strokes my hair and wipes the tears from my eyes. I nod so he knows I’m okay, and I wash my hands before he helps me back to bed.
“I just spoke to the doctor. He said if all goes well, you can go home tomorrow.”
I throw my fist in the air to show my enthusiasm, which makes Jake smile. It’s then I wonder where I am exactly. I grab the pen again.
What hospital are we in?
He frowns at the note before answering. “You’re in St. Francis Hospital in Midlothian. I can’t wait to get you out of here, so I can get you home and take care of you.”
Neither can I. I’m not sure why, but a flash of memory comes into my mind, and I see that picture on the fireplace mantel. It makes me wonder about that night. I pick up the pen and begin writing again. Jake notices and waits patiently for me to finish.
Do you remember the Christmas party? Jake nods. Tony had a picture in his house, and it reminded me of our dance.
Recognition runs across Jake’s face. “I remember that well. That dance was the most difficult one I have ever had to endure. It took everything in my willpower not to pick you up, drag you out of there, and make love to you over and over again.”
Tears begin to well in my eyes. I don’t know why this is making me cry, but it does. Maybe it’s the knowledge that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
“Why are you crying?”
I pick up my pen and start writing.
Because it is everything I have always wanted to hear.