I felt it before I even opened my eyes. Knew it was too slight to be Cory’s, and ignored the prick of disappointment, and squeezed JJ’s hands before my eyelashes fluttered open to take in her red-rimmed eyes.
“Finally, Sleeping Beauty.” The sarcasm I knew hid her real feelings. I could hear the relief, the slight tremble.
“Yeah, thought I’d grace you with my presence,” I said weakly.
“Well, it’s appreciated.” JJ’s forced laugh ended quickly. She cleared her throat. “Your mom and dad just went down to the cafeteria. We didn’t expect you to wake up so soon.”
“How long was I out?”
“It’s about three in the morning.”
“What?” I tried to sit up, but one arm was strapped to my chest and a sharp pain in my abdomen made me drop back against the sheets. My head was heavy, sparks exploding behind my eyes. My fingers brushed against a lump of bandaging. “What did they do to me?”
“They had to do surgery.” She looked down, rubbed a hand over her face then looked me square in the eye. “Ang, you were bleeding internally, had a ruptured spleen and severe blood loss. They called it blunt force trauma and they couldn’t get the bleeding to stop, so they did emergency surgery and removed your spleen. Your kidneys were pretty beat up, too, but …” she stopped as though afraid to continue.
“What, JJ?” My heart had started to pound as she explained the damage Brad inflicted. But what was so horrible she didn’t want to tell me?
She opened her mouth and clamped it shut. Then she plowed ahead, not looking at me. “They said because you were pregnant … it saved you. Somehow it cushioned your kidneys from the brunt of the blows. But … you’re still pregnant.”
“I am?” The room spun, my breath coming fast and I sagged back. JJ squeezed my hand. But then I felt … relief. “I’m still pregnant.”
I set my good hand lightly on my stomach, a cry bursting forth. And then I laughed. I laughed at the irony that the fetus had saved my life. Now it was my turn to save her or him. Grateful I would still have the chance to answer someone’s prayer for a child of their own, I gripped JJ to me. It might not be the right thing for another girl in my situation, but I knew now that carrying the baby was the right thing for me, that this was God’s will.
I lay back on the pillow, the action causing my arm in the sling to twinge. “Ow. What happened to my arm?”
“Your ligaments through your whole arm were torn. And your hand is broken.”
I remembered the awful tearing feeling as I tried to break free from Brad. I smiled grimly. “I socked Brad pretty good in the face. Maybe he’ll have a shiner for a while.”
“Somebody’s wide awake.” A nurse bustled in, checked my vitals, jotted some notes, then started to leave. “All done. Now you’d better let that handsome gentleman pacing the halls come in.”
“Cory’s here?” I whirled to JJ.
“I was getting there. Don’t get you’re panties in a knot, I’ll go find him.” She stood and followed after the nurse as she left the room.
Only seconds later, Cory appeared in the doorway, panting. He stopped short, his wonderful blue eyes snagging mine. We stayed like that for a moment. He wore a pair of blue scrubs and a white t-shirt, and what appeared to be borrowed shoes. Had he been here the whole time? What about his game?
“Did you miss your game?”
He nodded as he took up the seat JJ had occupied
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I already told you, it’s only a game. You’re more important.”
“But it was the state championships.”
He shrugged and took my hand, his hold careful, like he were cradling one of those hollow, elaborately painted eggshells old ladies kept in their curios. “We won. I didn’t need to be there for that.”
Dark purple smudges stood out beneath his eyes, and the stitching on the collar of his shirt was visible. It was inside out. “Have you been here the whole night?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t leave you.”
I swallowed. “Where’d you get your threads? They’re very stylish.”
“One of the nurses took pity on me so I didn’t have to stay in my uniform.”
I nodded my head.
“JJ told me everything.” He paused and chuckled. “I don’t know how she got it out of the doctor. He was pretty tight-lipped, insisting he tell no one but your parents, but since they weren’t here, she convinced him she was the next best thing. I definitely don’t ever want to be on the receiving end of that ball of energy. She scares me.”
“Sometimes she scares me, too.” We both laughed, the sound of his laughter making me ache deep inside.
Cory leaned in, his face a hairsbreadth away. He lifted a hand to smooth my hair back, and cupped my cheek. I didn’t shy away from his intense gaze, their baby blue depths swallowing me. His thumb rubbed over my lips, and I smiled weakly at the pleasant shivers it invoked.
And then he leaned forward. It wasn’t the sort of kiss we’d shared before, hungry, wanting, desperate. Nor had I ever been kissed like it before. This kiss was so soft that it was like a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips it was as though he were running his finger along them. Cory’s palm cupped the back of my neck, his thumb gently pressing against the side of my jaw. I don’t think either of us was breathing. And then he pulled back and I met his eyes, my own feelings returned in their depths. The ache in my heart released its stranglehold, and I felt closer to peace than I had in a long time.
Maybe things would be alright.
Note from the Author
Though Angie’s story is not mine, mine is similar, like too many of us out there. Unlike her, I didn’t speak up, I didn’t get help, I didn’t tell anyone I’d been raped until years later, always thinking, somehow, it was my fault, and I had done something wrong, something to deserve it. I lived with the nightmare for years, and the man who raped me was never brought to justice.
But I know now, it was not my fault. And I have found peace and forgiveness.
If you have or know of someone who has been raped, but hasn’t sought help, please get help.
Remember, it’s not your fault, and you are of worth.
Nearly 100,000 rapes are reported each year in the United States alone. Unfortunately, many thousands more are never reported.
Even one is too many.
Get help.
Visit www.rainn.org or call 1.800.656.HOPE
About the Author
Stephanie Pitman is a preschool teacher and a motivated entrepreneur, currently operating two successful businesses with her husband, Travis. She is a writer of fiction and nonfiction. Her first novel, a YA Contemporary, Honorable Disgrace, is based on her own story of overcoming the ugly side of life, betrayal and rape. She is a graduate of the Institute of Children’s Literature and an active member of the SCBWI. Stephanie enjoys spending time with her husband of 16 years and their two boys, visiting the beautiful splendor and diversity of their home state of Montana. Along with being an avid reader and dedicated writer, she enjoys pushing herself to her best by competing in triathlons, relay races, and half marathons along with being a Zumba and Yoga Instructor.
Honorable Disgrace by Stephanie N. Pitman
Copyright Stephanie N. Pitman 2015
Copyright Creative Prose Publishing, LLC 2015
Cover Design Sherry Gammon
Cover Copyright Creative Prose Publishing, LLC 2015
Images Copyright via DepositPhotos:
koya979 (Radmila Dijcinovic)
alenkasm (Alena Ozerova)
Interior Design by Cindy C Bennett
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Exceptions are reviewers who may quote short excerpts for review.
A Creative Prose Publishing Book
Distributed by Creative Prose Publishing, LLC
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All Rights Reserved USA
> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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