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But I know I need to come to terms with it. I’m thankful that I’m clean and that is one less thing for me to worry about.
Isaac walks into my room, holding a bag of supplies they gave me to take home. “Ready?” he asks me.
I am more than ready to get out of here. I’m over the nurses walking in every hour or so waking me up.
He helps me into the wheelchair. I sit as far forward as I can so my back isn’t touching the back of the wheelchair.
“I’m more than ready.” The nurse pushes me to the front of the hospital where a huge truck is waiting at the front.
Oh shit! How am I going to get in?
Isaac gently lifts me out of the wheelchair, making sure not to hurt my back and sets me gently in the seat.
“Okay?” he asks me.
I nod and he sets my blanket in my lap. The air has a slight chill to it. He shuts my door and I can’t help but admire how great he looks with his hat low on his head, his t-shirt hugging his arms.
He gets in and smiles at me. “Ready to go home?”
My heart beats a little harder at him calling it home. “Yeah, let’s go.”
He reaches over and tucks the blanket over me tighter, then reaches around taking my seat belt and buckling me in.
I fight the urge again to thank him for everything. I sit forward so my back doesn’t rub against the seat.
I’m much better than when I first got here but if I move a certain way, it pulls on the scabs and the stitches. They mentioned a plastic surgeon to help with the scarring. A part of me doesn’t want the help because it’s reminder of what I did to keep myself alive and what I had suffered.
It wouldn’t be for my benefit anyway. It would be for others around me to be more comfortable and I don’t have it in me to really care about that.
We leave town and my eyes glued on the area I have never been to before. “Chase went and got the things you requested from your apartment. It’s already unpacked for you,” he tells me.
I reach over and squeeze his forearm. “I am so thankful for you Isaac. I don’t think I could have done this without you.”
He looks over at me, his face soft, staring at me. “You could have, Emily. You made it through fucking hell and you’re still here. You could have done it. But you don’t have to.”
I fight the urge to lean over and rest my head on him. Every night he hasn’t left me. I tried to get him to go home and get some good rest besides lying on the recliner.
He wouldn’t leave me. He made sure I had everything I needed.
I had been alone, even with my ex-boyfriend who I only dated for a month before I found out his shadiness and I left. He wasn’t ever there for me like Isaac has been.
I grew up in foster care and I never once had someone care if I was dead or alive until now.
The town melts away and the countryside comes into view. Wow, it’s beautiful. The houses are large and you can see children running around in front yards with dogs.
This is the life I have dreamed of having; an amazing home, a family and just a simple, peaceful life.
He slows down and stops outside of a gate. He enters a code and it swings open.
I hold my breath when I see the horses running alone side us. A huge white, three-story house and a matching barn comes into view at the end of the long driveway.
“Wow, Isaac, it’s beautiful,” I tell him as I roll down the window so I can get a better view of the animals.
I giggle when I see a fuzzy headed chicken that looks ridiculous and so stinking cute. “I want to hold that chicken.” I point to it when he stops in front of the house.
He laughs. “That chicken is a fucking menace.”
I laugh seeing it run after one of the ducks who looks petrified. Isaac slides out of the truck and walks over to me. He gently slides his arm under my knees and the small of my back where I’m not injured, setting me on the ground.
