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The white walls are lined with gray cabinets, looking every bit of a hospital room. I was able to get away from Trey for an hour—thankful he finally fell asleep. He hasn’t slept in over forty-eight hours, not since…since Pops died. I woke up this morning to him curled up next to me, his body asleep but his mind still warped with the pain. It showed on his saddened frown, which he wore still in his sleep. I was just about to fall asleep from my own personal exhaustion when my stomach wrenched me out of bed and to the floor in agonizing pain. Trey must have been completely sedated, because the cry that escaped my lips could have woken the dead.
I had to sit there for a solid twenty minutes before I could move again. I was so scared for whatever was happening; fearful it had to do with Evan’s attack, maybe from the kicks to my stomach with his heavy foot? I don’t know. Just remembering it now hurts me. The doctor told me bruised ribs was the worst of it, but obviously not, because the space between my hips, right where my uterus sits, freaking hurts, and it hurts like it’s striking vengeance on me.
I rushed to the hospital and told them about my pain; apparently, I have appendicitis. To be sure, they wanted to do more tests, an ultrasound of my pelvis, where the pain was located.
Now, I’m waiting for the ultrasound technician to come in. The waiting game is the worst. I’ve been completely consumed with taking care of everyone around me that I haven’t had time to worry about the attack. Now, for the first time in this plain hospital room, I’m alone with my thoughts, reminded of that night, hit with the images, the aches and pains.
I was about to lock the back door when Evan came barreling in, eyes black and his face red in anger. I panicked because just hours earlier, when I told him the deal was off, he almost ripped my head off, calling me terrible names—a tease—a whore—you name it. I was scared, cowering into the corner, afraid to move. I’ve never seen a man, especially a man of power, lose control like that. I was going to tell Trey when I got home, but I never made it there. He came in that door before we closed—angry, demanding me to leave Trey and be with him. Saying he extended his neck to get our piece of shit boutique off the ground—which hurt.
Our boutique is not a piece of shit, he was just bitter. I know that now. When I told him I don’t want to see him in our store again, and how I didn’t have any feelings for him, so leaving Trey isn’t gonna happen, he pounced. The force of him pushing me had me landing on my back, the air rushing out of me. Winded, I tried to get up, but then he kicked me hard, in my stomach, my ribs, anywhere he could reach.
I almost crawled close enough to reach my phone that fell from my pocket, but he grabbed my ankles and pulled me under him, there he straddled me and choked me. As I almost blacked out, his lips touched mine, causing me to nearly vomit. I still feel his hands on my neck; the way he squeezed had my vision blurring and my voice screaming out, though nothing but air came filtering out. I was so scared. I saw the devil in his eyes. I flirted with the edge of death that night. Even now I can feel the sensation of bile burning in my throat at the images; my lips burn, feeling like they were touched by poison.
The door opens and I’m thankful, I don’t ever want to remember that day. Ever. I right myself and regain composure, smiling warmly at the lady emerging through the door.
“Ms. Donovan, I’m Brooke, I’ll be doing your ultrasound today. You’re having some pain?” She seems sweet, very beautiful, with dark shoulder-length hair and caramel eyes. I immediately settle into an easy comfort with her bubbly presence.
“Yes, I don’t know why, but I woke up this morning to a shooting pain in my lower stomach, it feels like it’s in my uterus.” She slides the rolling chair up beside me, starting up the screen to the ultrasound.
“Have you had anything like this before?”
“No.”
“Do you have heavy periods and extreme cramping?”
Thinking back to before I went on birth control, I remember the constant cramping. “I did, before birth control. I would bleed for nine days with constant cramping and had to change my tampon every other hour.”
“That’s no good, sweetie. I’m sorry. When was your last period?”
I try and think back, unable to pinpoint my last cycle. It was before I slept with Trey.
“It’s been almost two months.” Crap. I haven’t had a period, could I be pregnant? Holy cow, I can’t believe I didn’t notice this sooner. I’m on the pill, sure, but they don’t always work…
“Are you sexually active?”
My core clenches at the mention of sex. God, I’m like a teenager.
“Yes.”
“How often are yo
u engaging in intercourse?”
My cheeks flush as she acts completely unfazed by her intrusive question. I wince when she spreads the cold gel over my lower stomach.
“Usually, three to four times a week. Sometimes more.” I sound so childish, like she’s my mom and I’ve been caught with my tail between my legs. I look up and she’s smirking, catching on to my obvious discomfort.
“Okay, I’m going to run this over your lower stomach and see if we can find out what that pain was. Are you still experiencing any pain?” She moves the wand over my stomach, pushing hard. It hurts when she pushes.
“It’s tender. Really tender.” Pushing harder, the tender feeling turns into a sharp pain. I wince.
“I know it hurts, I have to push hard, I can’t seem to get a clear picture.” I stay quiet and endure the pain, hoping she’ll find the damn thing so the torture can stop.
Her face gives everything away, she looks like she’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear, spiking my heart rate. What the hell is it?
“Okay, looks like you have a tilted uterus, so we’re going to need to use the transducer and insert vaginally to see what’s going on.”
“Is that bad, a tilted uterus?”
