by Laurèn Lee
“I need you to take me to the hospital.”
The pain worsened every minute.
“The hospital? No, you’re okay! You’re awake!”
“I have a bruised rib.”
James cried. He sobbed, uncontrollably. Did he think I’d feel sorry for him at this point? He beat me into unconsciousness. Fuck him.
“Please, James. I need to go.”
“Are you going to tell them what happened?” he sniffled.
“Will I tell them my husband beat the shit out of me?”
James stood and came to kneel on the floor beside me, so we were face to face.
“I’m sorry, Delilah. It will never happen again.”
“Take me to the hospital, James. I need to go.”
“Okay, baby.”
James carefully picked me up as I cried out in pain. Naturally, I had studied injuries of this sort in medical school, but I had never known the extent of the pain which would accompany internal bleeding. Very softly, James laid me down in the backseat of the car, and he sped to the hospital, talking to me softly the whole ride there.
“Everything will be okay, baby. I promise.”
I entered the emergency room and expected to have a long wait, but luckily, a doctor was able to see me before I could finish all the paperwork. I asked James to complete the remaining documents, and he readily agreed. Guilt is a strong motivational tool.
“So, what’s going on here?” the doctor asked. He was handsome and older than I. His black hair had specks of gray woven throughout and he glowed with a tan one can only obtain while on vacation.
“It’s my stomach, have a bruised rib.”
“Well, let’s see here,” he said, gingerly examining her abdomen. “I’d like to get a CT scan to see exactly what we’re working with, okay?”
“Yes, whatever you need to do.”
“I’ll have a nurse bring you to the other examination in just a few moments.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he hesitated, “Do you need me to call the police? I mean, uh, how did you become injured.”
“You don’t need to phone the authorities, I have already advised them of my situation,” I lied.
The doctor eyed me suspiciously, no doubt seeing right through me.
Just then, James whooshed into the room.
“Is she all right, Doc?”
“You must be the husband?”
“Yes, I’m James. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Well, James. Delilah should be fine. She’s right, it seems just to be a bruised rib or two and should heal on its own, but we are going to get a CT scan just to make sure there aren’t any other injuries like internal bleeding.”
James looked relieved. Probably happy he didn’t cause any more damage.
“You take care of yourself, Delilah,” the doctor said and looked at James and back to me.
“You got it, Doc,” I said, wincing.
_
I canceled my appointments for the following week. My scan had shown no serious damage, but the doctor recommended bed rest for at least five to seven days to let my body heal itself. James acted as though nothing happened and treated me like we were on our honeymoon. He doted on me hand and foot, bringing me soup and water and anything else I happened to find myself needing. I wanted him to leave me alone, but I couldn’t take care of myself, no matter how much I wished I could.
Once the weekend rolled around, I grew insanely tired of playing patient while James played the heroic caregiver.
“Feeling better, sweetheart?”
I nearly vomited in my mouth.
“Much better, thank you.”
“So, I bet you enjoyed having the week off?”
I looked at him, seething.
“I mean, I’m sure it was nice to have a break from work, huh?”
I didn’t reply.
“Maybe you could take another week off, and we could go visit my mother?” he asked slowly.
“I don’t know, James. I’m already behind. Several of my patients have called me requesting emergency appointments next week.”
“I see.”
“But please, go see your mother. Send her my best.”
He was about to reply, but he opened his mouth and promptly closed it. He knew he still resided in the marital “dog house” after what he’d done to me a week earlier. Now was certainly not the time to begin another argument. I felt relieved knowing I had avoided another disagreement about seeing his mother. If only he could go himself, then all our problems would be solved. Well, maybe not all of them.
“How is she doing?” I dared to ask.
“Not well. She’s begun to lose her hair and she’s all alone in that Godforsaken care facility.”
Apparently, he wanted my sympathy, but I had none to offer. He had ensured what little respect I had left for him disappeared once he’d laid a hand on me.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I will send her flowers. How does that sound?”
A compromise.
“I’m sure she’d love that,” he said half-heartedly.
I mentally reminded myself to have Jennifer make the order and choose the bouquet. I didn’t want to be bothered. I’m sure she’d have the flowers thrown out immediately upon arrival once she saw my name on the card, anyhow.
“I’m going to the gym. Is there anything else I can get for you before I leave?”
“No. There’s nothing else I need from you.”
And with that, James left the house, leaving me on the couch still bruised, broken, and battered.
9
Evening Herald
Police May Have a Clue
Earlier today, Captain Moonie advised they may have a clue in the murder investigation of Jane Doe.
Although detectives hadn’t discovered an identity, they are continued to analyze the items found with the victim.
Jane Doe had been found wearing stiletto heels along with a silver watch. The watch had a personalized engraving reading, “With Love, James.” The victim also had a pen on her person reading Johnson’s Realty Company.
“We are one step closer to tracking down the victim’s identity along with who may have laid a hand on her and caused her unnecessary death. We will not stop until we have answers. That’s a promise,” the captain said.
Another detective on the case, Samuel Boucher, is convinced they will have a name for Jane Doe in a few days.
“We are getting closer and closer every day. Our guys in the lab are working night and day for us. We’ll get there.”
The local police department urges all those to come forward who may have a co-worker who’s been missing from work unexpectedly.
“Jane Doe will have her justice,” Boucher said.
10
Present
“Hello Delilah, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Lucas crooned.
“Same to you.” My pulse quickened at the very sight of him sitting so close to me.
“It’s a beautiful day outside,” he mentioned.
“Yes, not too bad. Although, I could use another ten degrees or so,” I smiled. “Shall we begin?”
“Do we have to?” He nibbled on his lip playfully.
Damn it.
“Well, I’m not being paid to talk about the weather.”
“I could pay you to offer another type of service?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” I said quickly.
He leaned back in the leather chair and stretched his broad shoulders, putting his hands behind his head. I noticed his shirt pulled up a little during this exercise to reveal the beginnings of tanned abs. I tried not to stare, but the last time I’d seen a six pack up close was when James and I were in college and he played on the football team. I wondered what his toned stomach would feel like against my core.
“Like what you see?”
You have no idea.
“So, tell me more about the community service work you’re doing.�
��
“I never told you I was doing community service.”
“Well, I do know a few things about you that you haven’t confided in me.”
Lucas nodded, folding his hands in his lap. I could smell his charcoal scented aftershave from where I sat, and it roused me in the deepest ways.
“I have been helping oversee operations at charitable events across the city.”
“That sounds fulfilling. Do you enjoy it?”
“I’d rather be mingling with the people at the events downing cocktail after cocktail, but it isn’t too awful.”
“Do you feel left out while you serve your community service?”
“No.”
I had no idea what to ask next. I felt utterly foolish. This was my job to speak to patients, ask them questions, encourage them to open up. Instead, I felt like opening myself up to Lucas instead.
I brushed a piece of hair away from my face.
“Delilah?”
“Yes, Lucas?”
“Is that a bruise on your cheek?”
“Excuse me?” He caught me. Apparently, I wasn’t quite as good at using makeup and concealer as I’d originally thought. “We’re here to talk about you.”
“I’m just asking a question. It looks like someone knocked you out,” he said as he leaned closer to me, squinting.
“I fell while at the gym if you must know. It was rather embarrassing, so I’d like to continue talking about your community service.”
“The gym, huh?”
I closed my eyes trying to dig deep within myself for patience. Lucas tested me, and I mustn’t fail. “Yes. Treadmill.”
“I hope you protected yourself. Against, you know, the treadmill.” He stared deep into my steel blue eyes, almost knowingly, as though he knew I was lying.
He stood from the chair and walked over to me. I should’ve told him to sit back down but I was curious as to what he would do. He bent down and kneeled on the floor before me. He slowly reached out to touch my bruise and I let him.
His hand felt strong yet tender as he stroked my cheek. I closed my eyes momentarily wanting to remember the feeling of his touch. If I could bottle up this moment and keep it forever, I’d replay it every day on a constant loop. His face came closer and closer to mine to further inspect my injury. Without asking for permission, Lucas kissed my cheek ever so slightly. His lips sent chills down my entire body and ignited my soul.
I opened my eyes to look into his and I knew if I didn’t break up the moment, I’d let it go a lot further.
“Tell me about the most recent event you attended for your community service.”
“Oh, it was something for the Women and Children Against Domestic Violence group,” he said standing back up.
“I didn’t know we had a group of that nature in our city?” I asked.
“It was something like that,” he said airily and sat back down with a furrowed brow.
He caught me in a lie and now he was lying back to me. I needed to change the subject.
“Do you have any other siblings or family members you are close to, Lucas?”
“My only living relatives were burned alive.”
“I see. Do you wish you had a bigger family?”
“For their sake, I’m glad I don’t,” he laughed.
“What about relationships? Are you seeing anyone?”
“I have no interest in seeing anyone at the moment. I don’t have time for trivial dating games.”
“Did you have a bad experience in the past?”
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate.
“What happened?”
“She left me,” he said.
“Did something specific happen? Did someone cheat?”
“I don’t like to talk about these types of things.”
“Well, luckily for you, I can help you open up and work these issues out.”
“I don’t need your help,” he said airily.
“What would happen if you felt you had met someone worthwhile now?”
“I’m not looking.”
“But, what if you found someone anyway? What if they found you?”
“If I ever fell in love, which I won’t, I’d probably kill for her.”
Whiplash. What had he just said?
“That’s good. It’s healthy to be in a relationship,” I stuttered.
“Is it, Delilah?” he asked bemusedly.
I blushed. We were back here again.
“Are you happily married?” he asked.
“Lucas, do I need to remind you again that we are here to talk about you and not about me? Please, tell me more about how you typically act in a relationship so that I can gain a better insight into your personality.”
“No, I don’t need another reminder, but still, I’d like to know more about you. It may help me open up.”
I give up.
“All right then. Yes, I’m married.”
“I asked if you were happily married. I know you’re married.”
“Well, any relationship is hard work. There are good times and bad times.”
“Do the bad times often present themselves as bruises on your face?” he fists tightened, and his eyes narrowed. He seemed angry.
“It was an accident, Lucas.”
“Your husband accidentally punched you in the face?”
I looked down, too ashamed to answer. Here I was, a professional therapist and my patient was psychoanalyzing me. How could I respond to this? How could I prove I was worthy enough to help him when I seemingly couldn’t help myself?
“It doesn’t happen very often,” I admitted softly.
“But it does happen?”
I nodded.
“Why?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Why what?”
“Why do you stay with a man who hurts you? Why can’t you leave?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t leave. He’s my family.” Tears welled up behind my eyes.
“Your husband beats you, Delilah. You have every reason to leave and none to stay.”
“If I leave, I’d be all alone.”
“Being alone isn’t so bad.”
“It’s not?”
“No. It’s not.”
Here I was, allowing a potential psychopathic patient to comfort me. Who was I becoming and why had I let my life follow this unbearable path?
11
Past- Eighteen Months Ago
“Dr. Hedley?”
“Yes, Jennifer?”
“Mr. Jones would like to see you now.”
“Not a problem, let him in. Thank you, Jennifer.”
“Mr. Jones, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”
“You as well, Doc. I believe you know why I’m here?” Mr. Jones walked slowly over to shake my hand, his gait, no doubt the result of age and arthritis.
“Yes, I believe you’re going to be the bearer of bad news?” I laughed.
“Unfortunately, yes, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Delilah.”
“Well, Delilah. We have confirmed with the building contractors, and we need to have everyone off the premises for a week to ensure the plumbing problem is taken care of.”
The past few weeks held insurmountable annoyances as the sprinklers in every office of the building leaked all day and all night. I had to put obnoxiously bright buckets down beside my patients to ensure my lush carpet wouldn’t be ruined. It had turned my professional office into a plumbing nightmare. Luckily, the super had it under control and would be fixing it.
“You’re sure it will be an entire week?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. I’ll give you a call once you can return to work.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jones. I suppose this will be a vacation of sorts.”
“Enjoy your time off, dear.”
“Thanks again, hope to hear from you sooner rather than later!”
Mr. Jones chuckled and left my office.
An ent
ire week. What would I do without seeing my patients? I had never taken an actual vacation once I had opened my psychiatry practice. Maybe James and I could book a flight to somewhere warm and enjoy the sun?
_
“Hello, is James available?”
“Ah, Doctor Hedley!”
The receptionist at James’ construction firm looked as though she needed a babysitter. Pink streaks glowed in her hair, and she had a few tattoos peeking through her blouse. Everyone seemed to like her, though I can’t imagine why or how she had a job as a receptionist.
She phoned James’ extension, and he promised he’d be out in a few moments. I sat down and waited in the foyer, not wanting to interrupt James in his office. I noticed the receptionist, and I think her name was Becky, put her headphones back into her ears and continue bobbing her head.
“Delilah? What are you doing here?”
“Want to take a vacation?”
His eyes lit up with anticipation.
“I have the perfect place! Go home and pack, I’ll buy our tickets.”
“You know I don’t like surprises, James.” I wanted to pick the destination, anyway.
“This will be a good one, I promise.”
And so, I went home to pack, crossing my fingers James had a spectacular vacation spot picked out. Admittedly, I would need to stop at the drugstore to buy sunscreen before we left as well.
_
“Well, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise!”
James looked like a child on the way to a candy store as we drove to the airport. He seemed triumphal to be going on a vacation. Maybe too happy?
“Do I at least get a hint?”
“It’s hot and sunny.”
“Thank God. I hoped we’d be getting a nice tan.”
“I can’t wait to go. This is going to be great!”
“All right, if you say so.”
I felt cautiously optimistic about our trip. James seemed thrilled to go and promised the weather would prove to be favorable. However, how had he come up with this plan so quickly?
We parked our car in the long-term airport parking and took a shuttle to the departures ramp. We had no trouble at all going through airport security, and soon I followed James to our gate.