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Jett is with me, and somehow that makes me feel better. Or maybe it’s all the drugs they’re pumping into my system. I can’t tell anymore.
“You know, most people who’ve never been in a situation like this often wonder why a person wouldn't just leave. They don't understand that breaking up can be more complicated than it seems,” he says.
“But I did leave. I ran, hoping that my past wouldn't find me.”
“Well, some of your past is sitting here in front of you, and you left me. I never forgot you.”
I nod, listening to him and his attempt to get me to open up. “What day is it?” I ask weakly.
“It's Tuesday,” he replies, watching me closely.
I remember it being Friday. As I sit there trying to comprehend what he’s just told me, my mind begins to wander.
“Camryn, are you ok?”
“I'm as good as I can be, considering the circumstances. I have an answer to your question. I stayed because of fear. I was afraid of what would happen if I decided to leave the relationship. But I got out, I got away. And he still found me!” I’m also aware of my cell lighting up and then fading back to dimness, resting on the table next to the bed. I can't bring myself to move or answer the persistent calls from Ty. He did this and there’s no way I can ever put myself in that situation again.
Besides the beat of my heart, the only sounds in the room are Jett's deep voice and the constant hum of the machines. He continues to talk and I lose myself in the reality of what happened. Jett becomes silent as he observes me.
I can still feel the piece of glass from the shattered whiskey bottle jaggedly tearing into the skin of my face and slicing down to my neck. I immediately bring my hand up to the left side of my face. I cringe at the pain that radiates from it. I suck in as much air as my lungs will allow and let it out slowly. My eyes fall to my right hand and the cut that has been closed with black surgical thread. A flash of memory is seared into my mind.
As I continue to look over myself I see the sporadic bruises that line my arms, and my whole body feels like it's been beaten to a pulp. Shifting the blanket slowly to reveal my legs, I find dark purple bruises, and scratches are evident on my thighs. As I pull my gown up higher, the damage increases. I can feel the color leaving my face. Jett never stops his gaze, and there’s something comforting about it. Like seeing this all for the first time with him here makes it better, safer somehow.
The bruise hidden by my gown looks nasty; it's the darkest of purple, outlined by red and yellow, just above my hip on my right side. Pulling the gown back down, I feel the tears sliding down my face. “Can I see a mirror?” I ask.
“I don't see why not, but brace yourself,” he says, handing me a small, hand sized mirror, and I peer at my horrid reflection.
An angry red and jagged line runs from my ear to my collarbone. My neck is circled in a reddish purple ring reminiscent of being strangled. The whites of my eyes are bloodshot, with a pale hue of pink. As I continue to scrutinize my face, I notice stitching in the corner of my mouth and dried blood still lingering on my hairline. Slamming the mirror down on the bed, I let a sob rip from my chest.
Jett closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around my shoulders in a useless effort to try to comfort me. “Cami, it’s going to be ok, I promise. I’m going to take care of the asshole who did this, just wait.”
“How could he do this?” I whisper to myself as Jett continues to hold me. A doctor comes in with a disgusted look on his face.
“Miss Garrett, I’m Dr. Bennett. It looks like you will be with us for a few days. Along with your obvious injuries, you have multiple fractured ribs, and we want to be certain they don't puncture your lungs.” I nod and wipe my tears with the hem of my gown. “Is there any family you would like us to call?”
I shake my head and hear the familiar tap of my supervisor’s boots coming down the hallway.
“Oh dear Cami,” she says reassuringly as she walks through the door. She freezes a couple feet from me and her mouth drops slightly. Her eyes make their way down my face and onto my neck. I can tell she’s trying to keep calm, typical hospital staff. She rushes over to me, hugging me tightly and I cry out.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” she says, wiping her tears away with her fingers. “Maia told me you were here and I just had to check on you. Are you all right?”
“I’m alive.”
“Yes, you are. Thank God for that. Do you know who did this? What’s going on?”
Jett stands. “We’re handling it,” he says in a cold, calculated voice.
She takes one look at him as she touches my shoulder softly. “I bet you are.”
She nods to Dr. Bennett and Jett. “You boys better take good care of my girl,” she tells them. “Cami, I hate to leave but I got to get back to work. I’ll make sure Maia knows I was here, she’ll be down soon I’m sure.” She says, trying to remain composed.
She hugs me lightly and leaves the room quickly; I can hear her heaving in the hallway. Jett comes back over and sits on the stool.
“I work in labor and delivery here,” I say in a garbled voice. Jett sits there looking at me like he wants to say something, but never does. I close my eyes and focus on breathing. A slight click on the door startles me and my eyes pop open. I find myself all alone. I feel useless, like a failure. All I want to do now is lie down and give up, let the darkness take over. Closing my eyes again, I feel tears start to trickle down my cheeks to the pillow, and eventually, sleep finds me.
The dim light in the room begins to become brighter as the door slowly creaks open. I open my eyes slowly, squinting and trying to make out the face in the dark. His feet slide across the linoleum quietly, and I almost get a good look at the man when I catch a whiff of his cologne. I freeze, like a deer in the headlights. It's Ty, it has to be. I open my mouth to scream, but he must sense it and places his hand over my mouth. I try to reach the nurses’ button but the pain in my chest and side limit my movement.
“Don't scream, ok?” he says in a whisper. I nod lightly. “If you're going to scream I'll just leave my hand where it is, and I'm sure it hurts you. I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” I nod again as my eyes begin to flood with tears. “Listen to me, Cami, I'm sorry. I went crazy when you wouldn't listen to me,” he says, his voice dripping with guilt.
