Torn (Connections #2)(3)

His shoulders sag. He promptly diverts his eyes to the ground and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets. "I'm sorry, Dahlia. I don't mean to yell. I just can't stand that you got hurt. It kills me to see you like this, to know what could have happened to you. It just kills me." 

We've had this conversation twice already. I already know my reassurances will go nowhere. So I repeat myself and contemplate making my way to the duffel bag lying next to the chair to get my socks and shoes and then go into the bathroom to change. But I plead one more time, "River, please turn around."

He's standing in front of me with only the bed between us but for some reason it feels like we're miles apart. He doesn't move toward me, but I can see the overwhelming emotion in his face and in his eyes. He's hurting. I can also hear it in his voice and his sorrow not only makes me sad, it tears at my heart.

I've never been shy around him. I just know that I'm covered in bruises and I want so badly to spare him the heartache of seeing me this way.

"No, let me help you," he whispers. His tone is barely audible.

With a deep sigh I resign myself to his plea and pointing near the chair I ask, "Can you please hand me that?"

Grabbing my bag, he sets it on the bed.

As I untie the ugly green gown and slide it down my arms, he watches me. But not in an Oh, I want to see you naked kind of way, more like an Oh God, I might be sick way.

The gown puddles on the floor and I stand there completely naked in front of him. I watch as he looks at me. He scans my body from head to toe before his eyes drift back up to meet mine and he swallows.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, I pick up the hospital gown and playfully toss it at him. "Your turn to play dress-up."

His lips finally turn up in a semblance of a smile, but his eyes are still filled with sadness. "I think I'll pass this time, if you don't mind," he says, holding the gown up to him. "Green isn't my color."

Both of us smiling, I know he's looking beyond my bruises. At last. And all his love for me is now reflected in his eyes-it means everything to me.

He strides around the bed and insists on helping me put on my panties and jeans. I want to comment on how easy it would be for him to get in my pants right now, but I refrain. But when he ever so carefully starts to pull my sweater over my head, I can't hold back. Grabbing his hand, I press it over my heart and look at him. "See, you can touch me. I won't break. I'll even let you get to second base," I say, sliding his hand down to cup my breast.

He resists at first, but eventually sighs and brushes his thumb over my nipple. A slow grin crosses his lips. "Second base, that's it? I think I had a better chance with the pants."

We both laugh a little and I continue to hold his hand in place. His eyes burn into mine as he moves his hand to cup my cheek. Leaning into my ear he whispers, "You better stop it. You're going to get me all worked up and when Nurse Smiley Face comes in here she's going to kick me out."

He pulls back and I roll my eyes as he pulls my sweater down the rest of the way. I silently wince a little in pain. My shoulder is sore, my wrist is sprained, and my body is bruised. The doctor wanted to cut off my bracelet, the only jewelry I was wearing, because of the swelling, but I begged him not to. It's the one thing of Ben's I have left and I need it to always remind me to live my life with no regrets.

Once I'm dressed, he gently places his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he whispers.

"You could never hurt me," I respond in a low, comforting voice.

Leaning back, he crosses his finger over his heart. "I promise I will never let anything happen to you again." The ache in his voice cuts through me and I have to take a deep breath to prevent tears. I just want to throw my arms around his neck but my aching body won't let me, so I settle for circling my arms around his waist instead. He, in turn, slips his back around mine and we just hold each other. Then he kisses each of my eyelids and rests his forehead against mine. And with each passing second I can feel our love growing stronger, if that's even possible. We stay like this in silence until the nurse enters the room.



       
         
       
        

She clears her throat and he whispers, "Nurse Smiley Face caught us again, I'm in trouble now."

I giggle and we pull apart. She's nice, but she didn't like it that River stayed the night. And once last night when I asked him to lie next to me, she came in to check my vitals and made him get off the bed.

She takes my blood pressure one last time and goes over the discharge instructions left by the doctor-basically rest, no strenuous activities, and if I experience headaches of any kind I am to see my doctor immediately.