TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy) (2 page)

Awakened
by the thirst of a desert rat, I wrestle with the light. When I blink my way
back into the present, I’m confronted by a clean-shaven, deliciously fragrant
husband whose smile is so profoundly intimate I could weep.

“Hello,
Mrs. Stone. Welcome back. Don’t try to speak. Take your time.” He caresses my
face with a warm hand and I lean into it and close my eyes, without the need
for words. Seconds come and go and I lick my parched lips, in an attempt to
coat them with moisture, but there is none.

“Wait
a minute, I’ll get you some water.”

He
returns with a glass of chilled water and a straw. When the liquid hits my
throat, it does so with the force of an avalanche, making me cough.

“Slowly…”
He places down the glass and takes hold of my right hand. “You had me worried.
I thought you’d hibernated again.”

I
shake my head and mutter words that scarcely sound like my own. “No, just
sitting out a cold spell,” I answer, recalling one of our earlier
conversations.

“That’s
good to hear. And are you ready to come back to me?” he asks tentatively, his
tired eyes overflowing with devotion.

“I
never left you Ayden,” I reply, smiling lovingly. “I’ve been right here all the
time.” Lifting a weighty arm I outstretch my fingers until they come to rest on
his heart.

He
weaves his fingers into mine and keeps my hand in place. “You were so brave.”
He’s shaking his head and holding back an outpouring of emotion that threatens
to smother us both. “But it’s over now. All you have to do is get better.”

I
lift my hand as before, gently stroking his bruised jaw, caressing the skin
beneath his left eyes that’s still tinged with grey. “You fought so hard.” I
blink away tears.

“I
had everything to lose.”

I
slide my hand around his neck and pull him to me, feeling his breath brushing
against my left cheek. “Tell me what’s happened to me.”

Pulling
slowly backward, he takes a galvanizing breath. Unable to meet my anxious stare
he looks down and strokes my hand. “You were beaten up pretty bad and … and
they had to operate on you straight away.”

I
wrinkle my nose, “Operate?”

“Yes.
But you’re perfectly fine now.”

“I
have a heart monitor attached to my body and a cannula in my hand attached to
an IV, so it must have been something serious. What did they have to operate
on?”

He
hesitates. “You were bleeding internally. I assume he punched you before I got
there …”

“He
did … I was stalling and he punished me for having a smart mouth.”

He
squeezes his eyes shut tight at the thought. “Well his punishment was brutal
Beth. He caused a serious trauma to your abdomen …”

I’m
shaking my head, trying to make sense of it but his explanation is cloaked in
medical jargon.

“What
does that mean?”

“It
means he perforated the wall of your uterus with a single blow. You were
hemorrhaging internally. They performed an ultrasound scan, saw what had
happened, and got you into surgery within thirty minutes.” He reaches out and
strokes my hair, patiently waiting for some kind of response.

My
mind is in a whirl. “What about our baby?”

He
shakes his head, slowly, feeling the agony of loss with each millimeter.

I
nod. It’s not like I didn’t know.

“Try
not to worry about that now. There will be plenty of time for baby-making when
you’re fit and well.” He tries to lessen the blow with a flat smile. “I’m upset
about it too.” He edges closer and wraps his arms around me. “You’re all that
matters now.”

With
my one free hand I stroke his back, feeling tense muscles beneath my fingers.

His
soft thumb brushes away my tears. “Now. This is what we’re going to do. I’m
going to call the nurse and have her come and freshen you up. And, while she
does, I’ll go and get you something to eat. What would you like?”

“I’m
not hungry, Ayden.”

“You
must be. It’s been two days since you ate. Today’s Thursday.”

I’m
shocked. “Thursday!”

“Yes.
You’ve been out of it for a couple of days. It’s …” He glances at his watch.
“It’s 5p.m. What shall we have to eat?” He’s trying so hard to be brave but the
way his eyes are darting from left to right, I know it’s all bravado.

“Anything.
But only a small portion.”

“Leave
it with me. I have special training in patient care, remember.” He kisses my
forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

Alone
for the first time, I feel the weight of a heavy heart. I have a scar on my
stomach, which I have yet to see, and a feeling of emptiness that is sucking my
energy with the force of a black hole. I remember falling into this dark place
and now, clawing my way out of it will take every ounce of willpower I have.

The
door opens and a smartly dressed nurse of around forty enters, pushing a silver
trolley. On the top of it is a bowl of steaming water fragranced with something
flowery. Beside it is a white, fluffy towel and a flannel; next to that an
assortment of toiletries and a mirror. I assume I’m to have a bed bath.

“Good
afternoon Elizabeth. It’s good to see you’re awake. My name is Lorna. Now let’s
get you feeling a little fresher, shall we?”

Silently,
I nod and prepare to be bathed.

I’m
feeling a little better when Ayden returns laden down with brown paper bags,
brimming over with food. I assume he has invited guests as there’s surely
enough for a party of four. He proceeds to empty the contents onto the side
table, whispering something about knives and forks. I take my eyes off the food
and give him a lengthy appraisal from head to toe, noticing his roughly dried
hair and the four o’clock shadow on his chin that fails to conceal the bruises.
I look at his hands and how they are bruised and grazed on the knuckles, the
result of bare-fisted brawling with my monster. But, most of all, I focus on
the clouds of sadness extinguishing the fire in his eyes. He is a man
exhibiting the emotional and physical scars of a life and death struggle. He’s
my savior. He’s the man I adore.

“Ayden,”
I call, drawing his eyes from the food to me. “Help me sit up and tell me what
you’ve brought for dinner.” A person can only wallow in self-pity for so long.

One
handed, I eat what I can of the delicious pasta and vegetables and sample the
meat dish, trying to appear willing but, in truth, forcing it down.  Ayden’s
doing the same and we both pick at gourmet food that finds its way into our
mouths only to stick in our throats. It’s a kind of weight-watchers waltz that
involves pushing food around a plate and feigning consumption. We’re both too
full of sorrow to eat.

I
pat my mouth with a napkin and marvel at the swiftness with which Ayden clears
away the food, refilling the bags until they are once again brimming over. With
that distraction out of the way he fluffs up my pillow and perches on the side
of the bed, preparing to make idle gossip, but he has absolutely no idea how to
do that and I come to his rescue.

“Have
you spoken to Charlie?”

He
nods, thankful for my conversation starter. “Yes. She was one of the first
people I called. She’s been here three times while you were sleeping.”

“Is
she alright?”

“You’re
the one in the hospital bed, Beth,” he reminds me.

“I
know but she worries about me.”

“As
well she might, you’ve been to hell and back.”

I
force an amiable smile. “I’d like to see her later. Just to let her know I’m
okay.”

“I’ll
call her, don’t worry. Do you feel tired?” He pulls up the bedding around my
waist.

“No.
Just worn out, but I’ll be alright.”

“You
will. The consultant Gynecologist should be along soon. He has the results of
some tests and of the ultrasound scan you had this morning.”

“This
morning? Why don’t I remember that?”

“You’ve
been sedated. I told them I didn’t want you to suffer, so they thought it best
you rested while your body healed.”

“Oh.
I suppose I should thank you for that.”

“No
need. I was happy to watch you sleep.” His hand finds my face. “You’re so
beautiful, Beth”

I
huff away the compliment. “I don’t feel beautiful and the nurse wouldn’t let me
see myself in the mirror. She said maybe tomorrow as if I was a two year old.
Why don’t you pass me a mirror so I can see
just
how beautiful I am?”

He’s
shaking his head. “There’s no rush. Just take my word for it, for now.”

“You’re
a terrible liar, Ayden. I can imagine what I must look like. I can feel my lips
are swollen and my face is puffy. I remember what he did to me, and what he did
to you.”

“Don’t
worry about me. Just a couple of cuts and bruises. It’s nothing to write home
about.”

I
lift his left hand to my lips and kiss his knuckles. “There. All better.”

Unable
to contain powerful emotions, his voice cracking, he wraps me in his arms.
“Beth, I love you so much.”

I
bury my nose in his hair. “I love you more, Ayden.”

The
door opens and a tall gentleman enters wearing a golfing sweater and slacks.
Unselfconsciously, Ayden releases me, wipes his eyes and turns to face him,
“Good evening, Mr. Roper. This is my wife, Elizabeth Stone. She’s wide awake
and looking lovely.” His face creases into an exaggerated smile.

“And
so she is. Good evening, Elizabeth. I’m the consultant Gynecologist. How are
you feeling tonight?”

I
shrug my shoulders. “Fine.”

“I
do hope Ayden has been taking good care of you.” Ayden steps aside, allowing
him to take up his position by my side. He takes my hand in his, resting
experienced fingers on my wrist to feel my pulse, and checking the monitor
beeping to my left. “You have a good colour. Have you eaten anything?”

“Yes,
we’ve had a picnic dinner,” I answer, glancing over at Ayden who, for some
reason is beginning to pace anxiously.

“Very
nice.” He looks into my eyes and I sense some kind of announcement is coming.
“I assume Ayden has told you that we had to operate?”

I
nod.

“You’re
doing very well now, but the baby you had growing inside you is no longer
there. Thankfully it was early days, but I know that’s no consolation.”

“We’ve
spoke about it. I understand. We have plenty of time to make babies.” I force a
smile and look over to Ayden who’s nodding in agreement.

He
slides off the bed. “Good. Now I must continue with my rounds. If you need
anything or want to chat about anything at all, Ayden has my number. Goodnight,
Elizabeth.” He turns to Ayden, “Mr. Stone…”

I
watch him leave and wonder why Ayden is so quick to follow him out. I feel
perfectly fine, a little sore but not in any pain or discomfort.

When
Ayden returns, he has the weight of the world on his shoulders; he’s pacing,
rubbing his neck, looking across at me then turning away.

“Ayden?
What’s wrong?”

With
a thud he rests uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, contemplating his words.
He begins to speak then stops.

I
can’t stand the waiting. “Tell me!”

“They
analysed the results of the ultrasound scan this morning and it’s … it’s ...”
He looks at me through eyes that are swimming in tears. “ … it’s not good.”

My
heart is racing. “What do you mean?”

“There
was a lot of internal bleeding. They fear you may not be able to conceive again
after what he did to you … baby, I’m so, so sorry.”

He
leans in to embrace me but I push him away. “What! You’re telling me I can’t
conceive. We may never be able to make another baby?” The seriousness of his
declaration causes tears to roll down my cheeks like a flood. Between sobs I’m
pleading, “That can’t be true. Please tell me that’s not true.”

Ayden
lifts my hand to his mouth and his tears trickle over my fingers. He can’t speak.
He simply nods.

“How
can this be happening? Ayden! How? That bastard has haunted me forever and even
in death he still tortures me.” I shake my hand free of Ayden and sob into my
palms until my cries fuse into a gut-wrenching howl.

Forcefully,
Ayden pulls my hands from my tear soaked face and places his own inches in
front of me. “We’ll travel the world looking for a cure. There are things we
can do.” He’s trying to offer me a lifeline but, in my emotional state, his
words are lost in the whirlwind of realization. He can offer me no hope.
Nothing.

“Beth,”
he whispers, this is another hurdle for us to get over, baby. It’s just that.
We still have each other. I love you more than life itself. You remember that,
right?”

I’m
shaking my head; too distraught to hear anything.

“I
know you wanted our baby so much, but it wasn’t meant to be.”