CHAPTER FIVE - Betrayed

Elara’s POV

It had been a long, foggy month. I awoke with a sore head, sore and heavy body. I heard machines beeping around me, blinking and humming on the otherwise silent room.

  I was slow of mind, and burdened with ache and fatigue. But one idea had pierced the fog: Damien.

"Damien..." I mumbled, even though my throat felt parched and dry.

One of the nurses who were standing near my bed stooped down, her face gentle, yet grave. "He's awake," she said gently. “We will bring you there, but you will have to remain in the wheelchair in the meantime. You are still too weak since the operation.”

I nodded, and my shaking legs had to obey. All I wanted even in my weakness was to see him. To make sure he was okay. To make sure he was alive.

The wheelchair was rolling along the hospital corridor, turn and turn, step by step, step by step, closer and closer. My heart started to race, the familiar  odor of the hospital enveloped me like a blanket of memories, no  good just  bad. And then I saw him. Damien. Sitting upright in his bed.

But it was not the Damien I had pictured seeing after all the things I had done to him. Relief was not gleaming in his eyes. No warmth, no softness, no memory of the man who had smiled at me, thanked me, held me in his arms. His hazel eyes were cold. Harsh.

My instincts impelled me to lean forward, my arms spread open. "Damien--" I began.

He shifted back and raised a hand. "Don't touch me."

Shock froze me in place. My heart sunk, my stomach fell. "W-what... what happened?" I said, and my voice was panicking.

He didn't look away. “The nurses told me what you did... you killed our child.”

It struck me with the words like a stomach punch. My mouth went dry. My hands flew to my lips. I had anticipated tiredness, weakness, perhaps worry or gratitude..not this. Not this  hate.

"I... I only did it to save you!" I made an attempt to speak, and my voice shook. "I had no choice! I couldn't... I couldn't let you die!"

He laughed--a bitter, cold laugh that hurt my chest still further. "Save me? You're a murderer, Elara! Did you even ask me? Did you think I'd agree to this? No! You have made a choice on behalf of both of us and killed our child! You know how long we have been trying to get a child!”

Tears sprang to my eyes. My hands trembled and my lips trembled, and I was going on to explain more, when Adrian, his best friend, came forward.

“Calm down, Damien, calm down,” Adrian said  quickly, but his voice was very careful and insistent. “This is what Elara did to save your life. It is two years you have been getting blood donations. She has sacrificed everything, her health, her body, herself, to keep you alive. She is thankful, not this indignation. And if she can get pregnant once, she can again. Be lucky and grateful you are alive.”

Damien turned on him, and his eyes were flashing with anger. "Stay out of this, Adrian! This is between me and my wife!" His voice was keen, and pierced the room like ice. “I did not beg her to donate blood all these years! She did it on her own! And now... now she has gone too far!”

I could feel my chest tightening and my tears flowed freely. “Don't say so, Damien... please... I did it for you. Please try to understand!" My voice broke, and I was afraid, desperate, and grieved.

His head shook slowly, and his eyes were still cold. I did not ask you to do it, he said, dangerously low. "I didn't ask, Elara. You didn't think to ask me."

Mira, who was close to the wall, smirked. Her very existence was a dagger to my heart. "See?" said she, with dripping mockery. "Elara likes playing the hero. But she's a baby killer. That's what she really is."

The tightening of my chest was so great that I could hardly breathe. I was like somebody had taken my heart and squeezed it until it broke. I could not hear what the woman, who was once my friend, was saying.

“No... no, please,” I said, trembling, and my voice broke. "Don't say that. I just did it because he wanted me to do it... because Damien wanted me to do it. Please understand!"

The hand of Damien shot at the nurse. "Escort her out. Now."

The wheelchair went backward and the nurse steered me toward the door very gently and firmly. I would have liked to turn and to beg yet another time, to make him realize how much I had risked, how much I had sacrificed. But the words wouldn't come. My throat felt too tight.

Mira bent down, her eyes shining with sadistic pleasure. It was a low venomous voice, but I caught every word. "I told you I would do mine back."

The door closed and I stood paralyzed. The noise was ringing in my ears like a sadistic period. I stood in the hall, shaking, tired, and totally devastated. I was devastated by the burden of betrayal and my hands trembled.

My body ached. My heart ached. This was the reward I got after giving everything, my blood, my body and my child. Coldness. Accusation. Humiliation.

I sat down in the wheelchair and hid my face in my hands. My tears were now free, unbound. I had anticipated pain during the procedure, weakness during recovery, but nothing, nothing, could have prepared me to this.

I imagined Damien, in that bed, alive. I remembered about the baby that I never held, never saw, and had to give to save him. I remembered Adrian who had attempted to defend me. And I remembered Mira who had delighted in my pain.

I shut my eyes, and made tremulous, disjointed breaths. The world was wrong, mean and unjust. I had sacrificed all--and nothing.