CHAPTER FOUR - Back to Him

Elara's POV

I awoke to the sterile odor of the hospital room and my body was sore in ways I had never imagined. My hands were sore and my chest was tight and my head was a bit wobbly as I attempted to concentrate. I had a nurse sitting next to me checking my vitals.

"You're awake," she said softly. "The procedure is over, Elara. It was good... but you bled a great deal. You'll need rest."

I gulped, and was obliged to sit up. "Damien... how is he?" I asked, my voice fragile.

The nurse smiled faintly. "He's fine. The physicians are holding him together. You may see him now; however, you must take it easy.

I gave a nod and disregarded the fatigue that was pulling my body. "I want to see him," I said.

The nurse wheeled me into a wheelchair and we proceeded down the hall to the ward of Damien. My hands were on my lap and trembling a little, and my head was heavy with fatigue and sorrow. All I had done--all I had sacrificed--was still new, crude.

I halted when we arrived at his room. Mira was there. I felt a sick twist at the sight of her, standing casually by the bedside. But Damien... he looked fine. And above all there was not a bit of lipstick on his lips. My heart ached with both some relief and a flash of anger.

I want you to go, I said, my voice deep, but strong. "I need to be alone with Damien."

Mira smiled sharply towards me. "Excuse me? What is your business telling me to get out of this room? she asked, her tone mocking. I have come to visit my friend... not your husband.

My hands were clenched and I could feel my heart beat in my throat. I do not care, I said, with a shaky voice and repressed anger. "You need to go."

Mira laughed, throwing back her head. "Or what? You're going to drag me out? Elara, are you really overreacting? Calm down."

I turned a blind eye to her, and stared at Damien. "Nurse," I said firmly. "Please escort her out."

Mira drew her eyes, and came nearer. You suppose I shall leave that so easily? You're pathetic, Elara. You noticed me with your husband, insecure? Fear I shall steal him, prettier, smarter, better in all respects? Do you have something to be concerned about? This is my friend Elara, he is my best friend how can you expect me to leave my best friend alone and in your care. You are not even able to walk, you are like you will die a second. You can not walk and you would like to take care of someone? How ridiculous!

I exhaled and maintained a steady voice. "I'm not arguing with you," I said. "Please leave."

The nurse walked up and led Mira to the door. Mira glared back at me with a face that showed humiliation. "You think you've won? I shall have you pay this, I will see you pay this, she hissed and was gone.

I drew a deep breath, and my hands shook as I looked at the bed of Damien. "Are you okay?" I inquired, drawing nearer to him.

His gaze was calm and soft as he looked at me. "I'm fine," he said. "But... why did you send Mira out? Did you two have a fight?"

I shook my head quickly. "Nothing like that happened. She... she just needed to leave. I want to spend some time alone with you.”

Damien took my hand and grasped it. I know the doctor told me that my condition had worsened, I said to myself. I require a bone marrow transplant. Please... get tested, Elara. I can't do this without you."

I took his hand, and made him smile. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you're fine. Whatever it takes, Damien. You'll be okay."

He observed me awhile, with the soft searching gaze of his hazel eyes. "You seem... sad. What's wrong?"

I wagged my head, and had to smile. "It's fine. Really. Nothing."

This we remained a little. I took his hand, spoke to him softly, and observed his breathing becoming regular. And he slept, the heave and swell of his chest calming down like nothing else.

I stood a little longer, and looked at him. Frail, yes--but alive. That was all that was important at this time. My fatigue, my sadness, the sadness about the baby, it was all buried deep inside, behind the will to save him.

I eventually left the room and walked to the office of the doctor. The path seemed to be limitless, my body was tired, yet I went on.

“Doctor,” I said immediately I reached him. “When do I need to come back?”

His face was solemn yet not ill-natured as he looked at me. “It will take you another month before your body is safe to be exposed to the extraction. That will allow you time to get over the abortion and some strength back.”

I nodded, and took the burden of what he said in. One month. It was neither short nor long at the same time. A month to go before I would be able to give Damien the one thing that would possibly save his life.

I will come back, I thought to myself, rather than to him. "I'll make sure he's okay. I'll save him."

The doctor nodded. "Good. Take care of yourself, Elara. What lies ahead requires strength on your part.”

I walked out of the office, feeling tired, both mentally and physically. One month. That was all I had to sleep, to revive, to collect myself, before I would put my life on hold again and save the man I loved.

One month.

After one month, my husband would be fine.

He would be back on his feet and only then would I tell him about our baby.

I hope he understands me, I hope he knows I did it for him.