by Robin Laine
“Sugar, put the washcloth over your eyes. I’ll hold it for you to keep it dark,” Evan whispers in my ear. I do as he asks. He places his hand gently over it, keeping the cloth from slipping.
“Azley, I’m Doctor Cumberland. I understand you have blood in your urine. I promise we’ll find out what’s going on. I’m going to take your blood pressure, okay?” I nod my head, only to cringe in pain. Fuck. He places the cuff around my left arm and I hear the beep from the machine as the cuff inflates. He curses under his breath before calling for Mrs. Brooks to come into the room. “I need her lab results, now!”
“Yes sir.”
“What’s going on?” The cloth slips as Evan moves his hand. I gasp in pain from the sliver of light that peaks through a gap.
“What does two twenty over one ten mean? That’s too high.” My mom, she sounds so worried. What are those numbers she’s talking about? Is that my blood pressure? That’s serious, right? I can’t think straight. It hurts too much to think. The nausea grows and I have an urgent need to puke. I throw my body to the side of the bed, holding my head as my stomach empties its contents.
My room is a flurry of chaos. My mom is crying, the doctor is barking orders, Evan is cleaning my face, whispering in my ear that everything is going to be fine. I just want to sleep away this pain. I pray for darkness, for relief, for death.
Chapter 20
Evan
I grab her hand, pulling it to my lips and kiss her palm. She finally fell asleep four hours ago, after they gave her something for the pain. Her breathing even, the pressure cuff filling with air and slowly deflating every fifteen minutes. She looks peaceful as I stroke my fingers down the side of her face, gently brushing her hair to the side. There’s a rash running across her nose and cheeks that almost looks like a butterfly.
A hypertensive emergency they called it. Her kidneys were shutting down. Something they should have picked up on when she was in here last week. Doctor said one more day and she would have been in acute renal failure. It took over an hour to get her blood pressure stable, in a safe zone. Christ, why didn’t anybody figure this out before now? All those doctor appointments she’s been to and not one of those fuckers bothered to test for anything serious. They just sent her home with prescriptions for iron pills and told her to have a nice day. The signs were all there, they just didn’t pay attention to them. I want to go see those doctors and strangle the fucking life out of all of them.
“You can fight this, Sugar,” I whisper to her. “Fight for me, and I will spend the rest of my life fighting with you. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to beat this. I’m going to ask you to marry me and you will say yes.”
My throat tightens as I fight back tears. I almost lost her today. If she had not called me to come home. Hell, if I had just stayed home. I don’t even want to think about if she had ignored it and just gone back to bed. I wouldn’t have known, and who knows what I would have walked into later. Her lying in bed, slowly dying, me not knowing anything was wrong. Fuck, stop thinking this shit! Everything is going to be okay now. It has to be.
Tatum comes into the room with a coffee in each hand. Her blue eyes rimmed in red. She’s been here since they brought Azley up to her room, refusing to leave until she wakes up. Sobbing with Azley’s hand clutched between hers. I was able to get Kayla to leave, telling her Tyler needed his grandma with him, but Tatum threw a fit when I told her she should as well. God help the man who falls in love that woman. She’s hellfire when you make her mad.
“How is she?” she inquires as she hands me one of the coffees then sits on the other side of Azley’s bed.
“Still asleep, but her pressure is staying normal,” I answer.
“God, Evan, I just can’t believe this is happening to her. She never looked sick. I know she’s been sleeping a lot lately, but I figured it was because she was working so hard. Why didn’t her doctors know this was happening?” She places a hand over her mouth, choking back a sob.
“I wish I knew the answer to that, Tatum. Dr. Patel was in here after you went down to the cafeteria. Said he should have her lab results from last week in a couple hours. Called down to put a rush on them.”
A knock sounds on the door before it opens and Crosby walks in, “Hey, E, okay if I come in?”
Tatum jumps out of her chair at the sight of him, anger taking over the sadness that was just on her face. “No, you may not. You need to leave. Now!”
“I just came to see how Azley is doing. That’s all.” He protests.
“You don’t get that right. Leave!” Tatum points toward the door, standing her ground.
“You don’t get to order me around little girl. If Evan wants me to leave, I’ll leave. Until then, I’m staying put.” He leans against the closed door, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Little girl? Now listen here,” I cut her off before she can say any more.
“Alright, that’s enough. If you two are going to argue, take it outside. Azley doesn’t need this shit right now.” What the fuck is going on with these two?
“Yes, let’s, because I have a lot to say to you and I’m saying it now.” Tatum makes her way to the door, but Crosby doesn’t move.
“What’s going on?” I look to Azley when she speaks. Her eyes flutter open and they’re the most beautiful sight I’ve seen. She smiles weakly at me when she makes contact with mine.
“Nothing is wrong. Tatum was just asking Crosby to leave. He came to check on you.” I kiss her tenderly on the lips and watch her eyes widen in wonder. I love that she still gets that look on her face. I hope to see it for the rest of my life.
“It’s okay, Tay, really.” Azley sighs as she closes her eyes for a moment, then looks over to Tatum, holding out her hand, beckoning her to the bedside. Tatum walks over to grab it before sitting back in her vacated chair.
“I’m so glad you’re awake. You scared the shit of me, Az.”
“I don’t want you to worry, and no more crying. It’s not a good look on you.” Tatum bursts out laughing then leans over to give Azley a hug and kiss on her cheek.
“You must be okay if you can bust my balls already. Alrighty, now that I know you’re good, I’m going to head home. Be back tomorrow after class.” She walks to the door but doesn’t leave. Just stands there staring at Crosby. I’m sure she’s waiting to see if he has anything negative to say. She doesn’t have to worry, though, he knows he was wrong.
“I just came by to see how you are and to apologize, Azley. I shouldn’t have said those things about you. I hope you can forgive me.” Crosby waits as Azley takes her time to answer. I don’t know if she’s forgiven him yet. We haven’t had a chance to talk about it since the night it happened. She forgave my behavior, and I hope she can forgive his too.
“I’m working on it. You hurt me in a bad way, so it’s going to take some time,” she tells him.
“Fair enough. I’ll leave you guys to it. Hope you’re better soon, my brother needs you.” With that, he turns and walks out the door, Tatum following close behind. This can’t be good.
“I’ll be right back, Sugar. I’m just going to walk those two down, make sure they don’t start any shit before they leave here.” I walk into the hall to catch up to them, following them into the elevator. The ride down is quiet, yet filled with tension. Crosby and Tatum glaring at each other from opposite sides of the car. Once we step out on the ground floor, Tatum turns on Crosby.
“Azley doesn’t want you here, she’s just too nice to ask you to leave. Me however? I’m just the bitch she needs in her corner. So, I’m demanding that you take your hypocritical, sleazy ass out of here before I find the biggest security beast here to drag it out!”
“What the fuck is your problem? I’m leaving, or didn’t you notice?” Crosby runs a hand through his hair, yanking it before letting go on a frustrated breath.
"Pick me up Evan."
"What? Why?" What the hell is Tatum up to?
"I want to be eye to eye with th
is jerk! He was an asshole to Azley, and I want to be able to look him directly in the eye when I tell him what I have to say next. He needs to understand just how serious I am."
“I am not picking you up, Tatum. Just say what you need so you can go home, and I can get back to Azley.”
She huffs in irritation before turning to face Crosby again, “Fine, you, you’re my problem. What you said about Azley was reprehensible. I was hoping karma would eventually catch up to you, but you know what, karma takes too long; I’d rather kick your ass now.”
“You think you’re so damn cute.” Crosby fires back.
“I know I am. Sometimes I'm so cute that I give myself butterflies.”
“You really are a crazy bitch, you know that?” He throws his hands in the air as he backs away, “E, I’m out of here. Call me tomorrow and give me an update?”
“Sure thing, Cros. Tatum, do you need me to walk you to your car, or can I trust you’re done busting my brother’s balls?”
“I’m done, for now,” she tells me as she starts to leave, stopping short before turning around. “Hey, Whiskey, thanks for loving my friend. She needs you, and so does Tyler. Please take care of them.”
“Till my last days, Tatum, I promise.” I watch her walk out the doors before heading back up to Azley’s room.
I walk in to see her doctor is talking with her. Whatever he’s said so far, it can’t be good. The look on her face is nothing short of distraught. Pure fear clouds her eyes. I go to her, sitting beside her on the bed and wrap an arm around her to draw her into my side. We finally have a diagnosis, and it rips a hole in my heart. I hold Azley in my arms after the doctor leaves, as she falls apart, clinging to me like I’m her lifeline. I’ll be her fucking lifeline.
Chapter 21
Azley
Lupus. Lupus nephritis. A Mitral valve prolapse. Pleurisy. I’m not crazy like they said. It all wasn’t in my head. Those words keep playing over and over in my head. Chasing each other in a whirlwind of mangled thoughts. I know what lupus is, but I don’t know what it means for me. I know it is the reason for the rest of what’s been happening silently inside my body. I’m lying on my stomach underneath a contraption that has needles attached to it. I hate needles now. With as many times as I’ve been poked for countless blood draws and IV’s, it’s no wonder. I feel a pinch as the needles insert into my back then hear clicking as pieces of my kidney are removed for biopsy. I know that’s what is happening from the detailed explanation the doctor doing this procedure gave me. Thirty minutes is how long this takes, and it’s only been fifteen. I hate this. I’m not allowed to move, but every time the needles go in I want to jump off this table. Fear that it will cause even more damage to my kidneys if I do keeps me still.
The biopsy done, bandages in place over the areas the needles were inserted, I’m rolled onto my back with strict instructions not to get out of bed or roll over for the next six hours or else I may start bleeding out. The urge to pee is so bad I have to squeeze my thighs together so I don’t soak this entire bed if I lose control. How embarrassing would that be? It’s bad enough I’m going to have to use a bed pan. How is that going to be possible when I can’t lift my back off of the bed?
Evan is waiting for me when the person in charge of transporting me rolls my bed in and a nurse follows to hook my machines back up. I tell her about my current state of urgency, she pulls out the dreaded bed pan.
Since I’m not allowed to move Evan lifts my legs as she slides it under me, taking care that my back remains flat to the bed. I want to die from this embarrassment hell. He sticks by my side throughout the day, leaving only when it’s time to pick up our boy from my mom’s house. Our boy, that’s what Evan calls Tyler now. I won’t even dare argue it, they love each other like a father and son and it makes my heart happy. Kissing me goodnight, he promises to be back bright and early the next day. This has been our routine for the past three days; him staying here all day, then going to pick Tyler up and take him home so he can take care of him.
My doctors have me scheduled for a heart ultrasound tomorrow, and then a stress test the day after. Every one of them will be done with me lying in a bed. My body is too weak to do anything but walk up and down the hallway for two laps. At least I won’t have to run on a treadmill for the stress test. Small blessings even in the midst of chaos.
As the days pass I notice a change happening to my body. Every morning I wake up I notice a jiggle as I move to get out of bed. Another day, more jiggle than the previous one. I’m gaining weight. A lot of weight. There’s no scale in here and I won’t ask to be weighed. I’m told it’s because of the high dose of prednisone they have me on. It’s increased my appetite to a point that I’m always starving. I can’t stop eating. After a full meal I’m still hungry, wanting more food. I was distressed from hunger pains yesterday, I sobbed hard enough that Evan left to get me something to eat from the cafeteria. I hate this. The illness coursing through my body. The changes taking over me and turning me into a different person. Being stuck in a hospital bed. Not being with my son every day. Not sleeping next to Evan every night. Crying myself to sleep because I can’t handle any of it. I don’t understand how or why this is happening to me, and I don’t have the tools for coping.
***
After nine days, I was cleared to go home. I left the hospital dressed in a pair of Evan’s sweats and one of his t-shirts, since I don’t have any clothes that fit me. As soon as he made sure I was comfortable in bed, Evan and Tyler went shopping. He picked up my prescriptions, bought a wireless blood pressure monitor, a daily pill keeper, a giant bag of kisses along with a jar to keep them in, next to my side of the bed. The steroids I’m taking now are nasty, melting as soon as they touch my tongue, so I “have a kiss after taking them to make it all better.” Evan’s loving words when he presented them to me, right before giving me a real kiss.
I stand in the shower now, looking down at myself. I stare at a body I don’t recognize. Fat. Puckered fat around my hips and thighs. A once flat, taut belly now protruding as if I’m six months pregnant. Breasts that were a C cup now too big to fit in my bra. Stretch marks everywhere from the rapid weight gain. I entered the hospital weighing a hundred and five pounds. Now, I don’t even know. I don’t want to step on the scale just yet.
Besides my outward appearance, and more important than that, what is happening inside just rips me apart. My kidneys are barely working, I have to have IV infusions of a drug normally used for chemo patients. I shouldn’t have read about the side effects. I wish I hadn’t. How is something that is supposed to make you feel better actually make you feel even worse. I don’t want to lose any more hair. I don’t want to gain any more weight. I don’t want to be nauseous, or in more pain. How is this drug going to affect my heart? My lungs? My body? What if I want to have another baby some day? I’m running the risk of infertility now. All of these questions are swirling around inside my head like a tornado. I think about the fact that I could be dead right now; that I was so damn close to leaving my son without a mother. I can’t think about this; I can’t handle any of this. Not right now.
Tears escape despite my best efforts to hold them at bay. Face in my hands, I sob uncontrollably. Too much. It’s all too much.
“Why are you crying, Sugar?” His concerned voice seeps deep into my soul, pulling me from my self-induced pity party.
I look out the slightly open shower door to catch his whiskey eyes with mine. Voice trembling as I speak, “I’m not me anymore.”
“What do you mean you’re not you anymore? You still look like the beautiful, broken girl who jumped into my car all those years ago.” I watch as he pulls his heather gray tee over his head, exposing the abs I’ve spent hours exploring with my hands and tongue. His low-slung jeans fall to the floor as he steps out them, joining his shirt on the floor. He slides the door open enough so his naked form can climb in behind me. Strong arms encase me, pulling my back to his solid chest.
“I just, I don’t k
now. I feel the same, but when I look in the mirror I don’t know who the girl looking back at me is. I never considered myself beautiful. Never thought outward looks matter. But now,” I wave my hands over my body, trying to convey what I can’t seem to put into words. The only thing I can come up with is, “I’m gross. I can’t stop eating. Those damn pills that are supposed to make me better also make me feel like I’m starving all of the time. Do you know I ate an entire box of cream cookie pies yesterday? An entire box, Evan! And that was right after I had a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, with chips piled inside of it, and a glass of milk.”
“You really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you? We’ve had this discussion before, Sugar. Your soul is the most caring, loving being I’ve ever come across. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. You put everyone first before you, making sure they are happy or you’re not happy. You struggle with this because you don’t want to come across as some heartless person who thinks only women who look like models are beautiful, because you don’t believe that. You have gone through a traumatic experience. Dramatic changes to your body in such a short time, you never had the chance to adjust to it. To accept it has happened. Your mind will catch up. You’ll see what I’ve always seen. You. Are. Beautiful.”
His hands roam over my body. Caressing my shoulders, down my arms, across my stomach, up my sides to my breasts. Warm lips linger over my neck. Rough, calloused fingers gently rub my nipples. Teeth nip under my jaw. I shiver from the multitude of sensations he’s creating with these simple touches. “I’m going to banish all those thoughts swimming around in your head. By the time I’m done exploring you, you’re going to believe every word I just said. I’m going to fuck you beautiful.”
My hands clench into fists as Evan’s tongue trails down my spine until he is kneeling behind me. My legs spread and I lean forward, palms flat against the shower wall for support as he works his magic. His hands roam, worshiping my body. His tongue savors every inch of my flesh. His lips whisper words of love, beauty, forever as they glide across my skin. The way he makes love to me is powerful, all consuming, he literally fucks me beautiful as he promised.