Undecided

Gwen

Unfortunately, my peace did not last long, because I woke up. I thought I had finally found solace in the darkness, but even the darkness did not want me. It spat me back out into the harsh light.

The glare of white walls and the sharp scent of antiseptic told me exactly where I was. Back in the hospital, gain. Not a big hospital, though, just the family doctor’s downtown surgery. He would never take me to a big hospital..at least, his paranoia would not let him.

I squinted until my eyes adjusted. “Mrs. Burkely, you’re awake?” Dr. Higgins’ voice was gentle, but I did not respond. Of course I was awake. He sighed quietly, helped me sit up, and handed me a glass of warm water. “Thanks,” I whispered after drinking.

He hesitated before speaking. “Mason brought you in around two in the morning. You were in bad shape...barely breathing and bleeding. I’m sorry, Gwen… we couldn’t save your baby. The first trimester is always fragile.”

The words crashed into me like thunder. I did not hear anything else after that. Something inside me cracked open, and a sound tore out of my throat, a sound I did not recognize as my own. Dr. Higgins shouted something, but it was drowned in the ringing in my ears. Then came a sharp sting in my arm. Sedation. Again, I sank into the void, this time, without any resistance.

When I woke up again, sunlight spilled faintly through the blinds. My body felt like a shell, hollow and weightless. I turned my head to find Dr. Higgins sitting beside the bed, flipping through a chart.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, setting the clipboard down. I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. “How long…?” “Nearly twelve hours. Mason left after you were stabilized.” Of course he did. He never stayed long when things were not about him.

Dr. Higgins studied me for a moment, his expression grave. “Gwen… can we talk?” I swallowed. “About what?” He took a slow breath. “About what’s happening to you. And to Kayla.” My heart thudded painfully. “Leave her out of this,” I rasped. “I can’t,” he said gently. “Because she’s part of it whether you want her to be or not.”

I turned away, staring at the white curtain swaying slightly with the breeze. He continued, his tone steady but firm. “I’ve treated you six times in the past two years, Gwen. Broken ribs, bruised wrists, sprains, a concussion, and now...” He paused, his voice trembling slightly. “Now you’ve lost your baby.”

Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the sterile room into a smear of white and gray. He leaned forward slightly. “You always say you fell down the stairs or tripped. But I’ve seen enough to know the truth.”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. “You don’t understand. He loves me. He just… gets angry sometimes.” “Angry?” he repeated quietly. “Gwen, that’s not anger. That’s control. That’s cruelty wrapped in apologies.”

He stood, pacing slowly. “I know men like Mason. They don’t stop, not because you love them more, not because you stay quiet, not because you endure. They stop when you leave, or when you’re gone for good.” I stayed silent, my fingers twisting the bedsheet.

He looked at me again, eyes full of sorrow. “If you keep this up, Kayla will grow up thinking this is what love looks like. She’ll believe it’s normal for a man to hurt her, then kiss her bruises away. Is that what you want for her?”

My throat tightened. “No.” “Then think about what you’re teaching her by staying.” His voice was soft but relentless. “Children don’t listen to what we say, Gwen. They learn from what we live.” He paused by the foot of the bed. “You may not care about yourself right now, but that little girl… she’s watching. Every day.”

I pressed my palms to my face and sobbed silently. Dr. Higgins waited until I quieted. Then, with quiet finality, he said, “You don’t have to decide today. But if you stay, I’m afraid the next time I see you… it might not be in this room. It might be in the morgue.”

The words lodged themselves deep inside me, painful and true. When he left, the silence was deafening. For the first time in years, I was not afraid of Mason, I was afraid of what I had become.