52. Chapter Fifty-Two #3
“She will,” Elowen laughs. “Ehhhh. I might.” The monitor makes a content sound.
The nurse peeks in and gives us a, “Are you two behaving,” look.
I let my hand hover near Elowen’s again and she lifts her fingers the smallest amount, more than I anticipated she could.
It’s an invitation that could have been missed by anyone not staring.
I set my hand where she wants it. “You can tell me the full story later,” she begins.
“And, I mean tell me everything. But, for now I want the truth in more easily digested pieces. Let’s start with something small.
To avoid the chance I die of a heart attack. ”
“One,” I say. I sift through centuries and chose something simple. “Everything about you is so alluring in a different way. Think whimsical, yet mysterious.”
She smiles with her eyes closed. “I meant the truth about your identity, not your infatuation with me for whatever reason. Sometimes you talk and I wonder if you’re Shakespeare reincarnated.
Also, that sure sounded like two things.
Already disobeying my limits.” She shakes her head as her eyes roll.
“I’m so good with limits though! You would know.” I wink. She stifles a laugh and I continue, “I think you’re hallucinating. Should I get the doctor?”
“Hilarious,” she whispers. The building creaks along with the floor.
The fluorescent hum softens. The city outside remembers how to breathe as Elowen soothes herself.
I sit in a blue chair that should be less comfortable than it is.
I listen to her breathing and try my best to match it.
Holding still until stillness feels like motion again.
She nods off and I sit next to her, looking over her abrasions.
The bruises are starting to appear on her body.
Her poor arms are covered in small blue dots.
Noticing the bruises, the cut along her cheek, the laceration on her collarbone, I allow myself to be what Imani needs me to be for her. Her anchor.
The curtain shifts as a shadow pauses and then decidedly moves on.
Somewhere in a nearby city, there’s an empty speakeasy that wonders if I’ll be coming home tonight and a bookstore left attended by one man.
Also, very possibly, a very confused cleaner.
Bad timing. Thankfully, her pay has been decided and she is very excited about the idea of rarely working and earning enough to set up her family for life.
She might not be confused if Kai is actually doing his job for once.
They all will eventually forgive me. Plus, Kai knows I’ll always prefer Elowen over that mundane shop.
I won’t ever tell him who I prefer between the two of them though.
I watch the drip as I count to five hundred. The day drags on as we wait for the medicine to loosen its hold. We wait for a dawn that will hopefully turn into something kind. I stay because where else could possibly be more important than right here with her?
Her breath shifts before her eyes open again. Her sleep is in and out. Elowen doesn’t even wake for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time before dozing off again. Her body is fighting hard to be strong for her, but I wish she’d allow herself to rest.
I feel the faintest hitch in her chest as if her body is waking before her mind.
Machines fill the silence with their steady rhythm.
The sound is both a comfort to me and a curse.
A comfort because it tells me she’s alive, but a curse because she’s having to fight.
Her fragileness only becomes evident when she dozes off to sleep again.
The wires surrounding her cause a guttural ache in my chest. Her lashes tremble against her cheek, letting a thin exhale leave her lips.
Slowly her eyes open, unfocused at first, then searching until they land on me.
“Hi baby.” I say, my voice a low anchor in the bright room. For a heartbeat she simply looks at me. There’s no fear in her eyes like last time. Only relief. The kind of relief that can break a man more than anger ever was able to.
“You’re still here,” she whispers. “I thought you might’ve left by now. I assumed waking up and seeing you here, however long I’ve been on and off to sleep, was part of a dream.”
I lean forward in the chair. My body stiffens from sitting still for so long.
I’m not used to being in a chair for this long.
The bookstore and speakeasy demand my body to be upright at all times.
“Of course,” I tell her. “I promise to always stay for you. Plus, not that time matters to me, but you only slept for a few hours.”
Her mouth curves slightly as if she wants to smile but the weight of the moment holds it back.
She let her eyes drift shut again and for that small second she looks at peace.
Then, she tries to lift her hand. The movement doesn’t come.
The small movement she had performed before when lifting her fingers to touch my hand are long gone.
I see her head lift up, her eyes dart from her hands down to her toes that are willing under the sheet.
Her fingers lay useless against the bed.
Confusion touches her brow. She tries again with greater effort, but nothing responds.
I see the panic ignite before the sound leaves her throat.
Her chest rises and falls faster as the panic increases. Her eyes fly open, more wide and wild.
“My hands,” she gasps. “I can’t move my fucking hands.” Her voice cracks and the words tear through me. She tries again, straining against her own body. The machines complain as her breathing stutters. Tears fill her eyes, spilling over her temples to stain the pillow beneath her head.
I rise from the chair and move closer to her side. My voice stays calm even as fear presses hard against my ribs. “Elowen, listen to me. You’re safe. I’m right here.”
She shakes her head violently. “No. This isn’t right. Something isn’t right, Beau. They won’t move and I can’t feel them at all now.”
Her hands, the same hands that had once smoothed the edges of books in my shop as if they were sacred.
The same hands that had touched my sleeve without hesitation.
Now, they betray her completely. Her fingers slightly moved just earlier.
What’s changed? My own fingers twitch with the urge to lift hers, to hold them steady, to remind them they’re still part of her and I desperately need them to do their job.
But I know that’s not what she needs. She needs answers.
“I’ll go get the doctor.” I tell her firmly.
“Just breathe for me. I’ll be right back.
” I graze the top of her head before heading towards the door.
Crossing the room in long strides, the hallway is lined with light that wears on human nerves, but means nothing to me.
The air in the hospital is thick with the smell of bleach and faintly burnt coffee.
The nurses’ station sits a few feet away. I lean against the counter, my voice sharper now, leaving no room for delay. “Elowen Briar. She’s back awake, but she can’t move her hands at all now. She needs her doctor immediately.”
The nurse looks up quickly, startled, then gathers herself. “I’ll go get her physician now.”
I pace once, then force myself still as footsteps sound down the corridor.
The doctor appears, his team following like small stars around a steady sun.
Two nurses wheel equipment in their wake.
Their faces are trained in a calm nature, but their movements speak urgency.
I move aside and let them pass into the room.
Elowen’s gaze snaps to me the moment I enter behind them.
Her eyes are glassy with tears, but her voice breaks clear through the chaos.
“Don’t leave me.” Her plea twists through me.
I want nothing more than to plant myself at her side and never move.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly.
The doctor gives me a measured look, professional but firm.
“Sir, we need space to assess her. We’ll take care of her.
” He gestures with one hand toward the hall.
His tone is calm but leaves no opening for argument.
He looks at her and says, “We just need the room for a moment. He can stand outside until we let him back in.”
Elowen’s lips part, trembling with protest. One of the nurses lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, whispering words I don’t care to hear.
My sweet girl blinks through her tears and looks back at me as if holding me in place with her eyes alone.
I hesitate, every instinct pulling me to stay.
But I know the rules of this world. I can’t fight them without hurting her in return.
I step back slowly, never breaking her gaze.
“I’m not leaving, and I’ll be right outside,” I tell her.
“I will not leave.” The words seem to settle something in her, even as the tears fall faster.
She closes her eyes, her body shuddering as the team adjusts wires and ready their notes.
They draw the curtain part way around her bed.
The door swings heavily behind me as I step into the hall.
As I stand, listening to the rhythm of footsteps and clipped commands from her team of nurses and doctor, my palm reminds me to stop clenching. They ache from the tension. My chest becomes a cage for everything I want to say, but can’t.
The last thing I see before the team closes the blinds is Elowen’s face turned toward me, her lips forming two words,“Beau, please.”
And though the door and blinds have closed, I swear to her silently, “When are you going to realize you can’t get rid of me, sweet girl? I’m here for good.”