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Chapter Twenty-Two
RHYS
I’m the luckiest man on the fucking planet for getting to her when I did. If it had been a minute later, she might not still be alive. That is what her physician told me and since hearing it, I’m going crazy. I can’t seem to understand why my strong-willed Vera, the fiercest woman I’ve ever come into contact with would do something such as this. What would make her want to end her life? What on Earth would bring her to commit her actions?
I’ve been sitting in this waiting room for over three hours waiting for some sort of update. I know she’s alive, but I’m not stupid enough to believe she’s okay. She’s far from it.
“Mr. Albu?” I hear a man’s voice say my name, and at that I rise, heading straight towards him.
“What is it?”
He flips through a couple papers on a clipboard, “Ah. Okay. Well, I’ve come to tell you that your wife, Vera, is stable. We’ve stitched her up and have placed bandages where her wounds lay. They all seem to be doing well, given the trauma, heartbeat is steady and normal. We’ve taken her blood and see no signs of her being anything but healthy. Though, she did have to have a transfusion for the blood loss”
“What do you mean they all seem to be doing well?” I question, what he’s said makes no sense to me at all. “I only brought my wife in. I don’t know what sort of physician you are, but give me someone else who can tell me about my wife, not about your countless other patients!” I yell at him, unable to believe this man lost his train of thought. My wife could have died, and he’s being so careless. I want someone better, someone who knows what they’re talking about.
“Mr.Albu... I am informing you that your wife and your children are all okay. No harm came to any of them.”
I run my hand through my hair. This old bastard just told me I have children. Jesus. “You mean she’s pregnant?”
“Oh...I assumed that’s what you were babbling on about when you brought her in. Had no idea you weren’t aware. Doesn’t matter, though. She already had you authorized on her paperwork for us to disclose medical information to you. She’s pregnant with twins, but...” While the physician is telling me that his ass is covered and she can’t sue him, I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact I’m going to be a father, and not to one child...to two of them.
The doctor walks away, and I make my way back to the seat I was sitting in just a few minutes ago. I want to be happy that I’m having two children, this is something I’ve always wanted...but I can’t help that I’m worrying about how Vera will take it. Will the news be too much for her? She’s obviously been depressed, and I want her focused on getting better, not on the fear that motherhood will no doubt instill in her. She’s already given me the impression she doesn’t want to be a mother, believing that she’d fail at it like her parents did. What doesn’t click in her head is the fact that she isn’t her parents - she’s so much better.
Before I leave for the day I make it clear that I don’t want the physician to disclose this news to her. She only needs to be concerned about herself, not on the babies. While we’re having this discussion he tells me that he believes I should come back once her psychiatric hold is up and though I want to be here, I know it’s for the best that I give her time.
***
Three days have gone and past much slower than I expected. Countless times I almost left the hotel and burst down the doors to this hospital to see my beloved Vera, but I kept thinking about my children. How they need their mother to stay calm. No doubt, if I came back she wouldn’t be calm in any sense of the word.
I walk up to the receptionist. “Hi. My wife is being released today. Her name is Vera Albu, and I am here to pick her up and take her home.”
“Alright. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll get you back in a room with her while her discharge paperwork is prepared,” the receptionist responds. After a couple minutes of her typing away on the computer, she rises and leads me back down a hallway, opens a door and reveals my wife. What a sight for sore eyes.
“Thank you,” I say to her before I enter the room and take a seat across from Vera. Her wrist is still bandaged. I have a feeling the stitches will stay for a few days and we’ll be back to get them removed.
“How are you feeling?”
Vera doesn’t so much as even look at me. Her eyes are trained on the floor, arms crossed as if she’s trying to do nothing but comfort herself.
“Vera?” I say, my emotions getting the best of me.
“What the fuck, Vera?!” I snap, after waiting a couple of minutes. “You need to talk to me. I’ve been worried sick about you!”
I don’t know how I’m supposed to react, and more importantly, I don’t know what the fuck has happened to my wife.
