Discovering Stella

by K. M. Golland

  When we arrived at the hospital, a nurse directed us to a waiting area and politely explained that a doctor would fill us in on Vicky’s condition as soon as they were able, but that it could be a while. Nearly an hour later, that while was still going strong.

  “Stella, come sit down. You haven’t stopped moving around this room since we got here,” I stated with concern.

  Soon after arriving at the hospital, it had become increasingly clear that Stella was highly uncomfortable being here. She couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute and appeared to be trying to keep herself occupied with pointless crap, like reading the Quit Smoking pamphlets.

  I stood up and placed my hands on her shoulders, holding her still. “What’s wrong? Clearly something is bothering you.”

  “I just don’t want to be here. I don’t like hospitals,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

  I couldn’t help it; I let out a mild sarcastic laugh. “You used to work in one. How bad can it be?”

  She shook my grip on her shoulders loose. “It’s not funny. I’m going to go wait in the car.” Stella then proceeded to head out of the room at the same time as the doctor entered.

  “I understand you were both with Ms Stapleton when she overdosed,” he stated, gesturing for us both to take a seat on the waiting room lounge.

  Stella stopped and took a seat, refusing to look at me. Her mood was starting to piss me off, so I sat next to her and focussed on the doctor. “No, we weren’t. She’d already taken the meth before we arrived.”

  “Right,” he said, nodding his head. “Well, had it not been for ... you are Mrs Munroe, are you not?” he asked Stella. Mrs Munroe? Who the fuck is Mrs Munroe?

  She stiffened, the colour draining from her face as if it had been sucked right out of her. When neither of us answered, the doctor flicked through his notes with a confused expression. “Sorry, it says here in my notes, from the interim police report you gave Constable Andrews, that Mrs Estelle Munroe was first at the scene and performed initial first aid on the patient?”

  Holy shit! Of course, Stella’s legal — and married name — is Estelle Munroe.

  “Yes,” she croaked out, “yes, sorry. I’m Estelle, I just don’t go by that name anymore. Please, call me Stella.”

  “Certainly. Sorry, Stella. I just wanted to inform you that the excellent and proficient first aid you delivered to Ms Stapleton was what most likely saved her life,” he explained with a complimentary smile. “Unfortunately, as neither of you are her next of kin, I am unable to share any further details. But I can tell you that her condition is currently stable.”

  “Thank you,” Stella said, standing up, “we appreciate it and don’t want to take up anymore of your valuable time.” The smile she then gave the doctor before turning to leave the room was as fake as Pamela Anderson’s tits. What was also bogus was her fucking attitude.

  “I’m sorry, she’s had a rough day,” I quickly explained before heading out of the room in pursuit. “Stella! Stella, wait!”

  She didn’t stop.

  I practically had to run an Olympic 100-metre sprint in world record time to catch up to her. She really was in a hurry to leave. “Stella,” I said, feeling a little angry and impatient as I touched her shoulder to stop her from going any further. “What is wrong with you?” She shrugged off my hand as she had in the waiting room and it pissed me off further. “If this has anything to do with you being jealous of Vicky calling me, and me wanting to be here for her, then you are being ridiculous,” I hissed quietly, aware that there were people in the corridors. “You have nothing to be jealous of and, quite fucking frankly, you ...”

  Stella started to slowly move around me, her stare intently fixed on what was over my shoulder. Her sudden change of behaviour was again freaking me out. “What?” I asked, curiously. She didn’t answer and, instead, as if in a trance, kept slowly walking toward what had caught her attention.

  Confused, I turned around and discovered she was transfixed by the hospital nursery, or, more accurately, the babies lying in the cribs.

  “Stella, what is it?” I asked again, stepping up beside her. My heart had picked up a beat, warning me that something wasn’t right, but it was the tears streaming out of her glazed and unblinking eyes, drowning her face, that set off my inner alarm.

  I lightly touched her arm. “Princess, talk to me.”

  Like always, calling her by her nickname seemed to do the trick and she snapped out of her daze. She turned her head just slightly and met my eyes. “What date is it?” she asked, a terrified expression taking her face prisoner.

  Looking at my watch, I quickly answered. “May twenty-fifth.” As soon as those words left my mouth, Stella’s body shut down and began collapsing before me. I reached out and caught her in my arms, but I wasn’t quick enough to stop her from hitting her head on the ledge of the nursery window.

  “Shit! Somebody help,” I called out, capturing a nurse’s attention.

  She rushed to my side and helped me lay Stella down. “What happened?” she asked, as she checked Stella for injury, finding the blood on the side of her head.

  “She just fainted. I didn’t catch her in time and she hit her head on the ledge.”

  “Okay, let’s get her checked by a doctor.” She gave me a pat on the arm for reassurance. It did fuck all. In fact, I just knelt there and stared at Stella lying still before me, as had Vicky not two hours earlier. I didn’t know how much more I could take. I’d experienced enough drama in one afternoon to last me a bloody lifetime.

  * * *

  Stella had been moved to a bed and checked over by a doctor who now sat down with me to explain her condition. “Her CT scan shows no major damage. Due to the length of time she was unresponsive, we’ve categorised her injury as a moderate grade concussion. Stella did wake briefly after the scan, but has since fallen into what we call a minimally conscious state. Apart from some discomfort in the form of a headache, we expect her to make a full recovery. We’ll know more when she wakes properly.”

  My hand gently squeezed the base of my neck as I tried to relieve some tension. All these medical terms were stressing me out. “Can I see her?”

  “Of course. Follow me,” he said, nodding and pressing his lips together, his expression mildly sympathetic.

  As I sat down beside Stella’s bed and gently stroked her cheek, being careful not to touch the small bandage on the side of her head that covered the cut underneath ... the result of her collision with the ledge. Even suffering a concussion, she was still the most gorgeous thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. But I knew she still had secrets hidden within that beautiful body of hers, secrets that would keep hurting her for as long as she kept them in. Bloody hell, Princess, just let me love you.

  I did love her. I knew that now. Actually, I think I truly accepted it was love that I felt for Stella the day we visited the strawberry farm. Mum once said to me that “You know you love someone when the thought of them no longer being in your life is unbearable. When just thinking about that loss churns your stomach and makes your blood run cold. If that’s the reaction you get at just the mere thought of being without them, then it’s love.” She’d then gone on to tell me that love takes many forms and no love is the same as another.

  Holding onto Stella’s hand while I waited for her to wake up, her phone rang from within the drawer of her bedside table. It was Julia’s ringtone. Fuck! I quickly grabbed it to turn it off, but then stared at her friend’s name and, without thinking, answered the call. “Hello.”

  “Oh, I think I’ve dialled the wrong number,” Julia responded, unsure.

  “Is this Julia?”

  “Yes! Who’s this?”

  “You haven’t dialled the wrong number. I’m Lawson, Stella’s boyfriend,” I explained.

  “Who? Oh ... ohhh,” she stuttered. “I’m ... I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Is she available?”

  Standing up, I walked over to the window and turned back around to watch Stella. I knew that
what I was about to do might jeopardise what we had, but I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her hurt anymore: physically or mentally. She needed to face her past once and for all, and if sacrificing our relationship would help her do that, then it was a painful no-brainer. It was also a part of the knight’s code of conduct: To fight for the welfare of all.

  “Julia, Stella needs your help. I’m at the Shepparton District Hospital, sitting by her bedside. Now, before you panic, she’s okay ... physically, anyway. She fell and hit her head. What worries me more is why she fell in the first place. Julia ... what is so significant about today’s date?”

  I heard a small sob followed by a sniffle. “Today is Quinn’s birthday.”

  “Who is Quinn?” I asked, confused.

  “I’m on my way.”

  With that, she hung up, and I could only stare at the phone, even more head-fucked than I already was. Who is Quinn? No ... it couldn’t be.

  Looking at Stella, my heart that was full of love for this woman broke at what I thought — and dreaded — was the other missing piece of her mysterious puzzle.

  T W E N T Y - T H R E E

  Only those who are lost can be found

  Never in my life had I so wanted to close my eyes after opening them.

  The light filtering in through the slits of my parting eyelids pierced through my head like a laser beam and the sharp pain merged with the pounding sensation that was vibrating through my skull. These unpleasant after-effects of a concussion were bad enough, but a stronger motivation for drifting back to sleep came from the fact that waking up meant I had to face why I was lying in a hospital bed in the first place.

  After I’d woken briefly, the nurses and doctor explained I’d hit my head when I fell earlier in the day. They also explained that I’d had a CT scan, which gave me a clean bill of health, but I should just rest as I would be very sore. I hadn’t suffered any form of amnesia, because I could remember this exchange taking place, and if I was going to be completely honest that kind of disappointed me. I wanted to forget why I’d fainted, why the world had come crashing down on me with a weight of despair so great I could do nothing other than switch myself off. I wanted to forget why today tore my heart to shreds. But I couldn’t. No matter how hard you try to bury what destroys you, it’s the pretence and self-deception in that act of burying that will eventually tear you apart.

  Clearing my throat, the awful feeling of thirst had me wincing. My mouth was dry and it felt horrible.

  “Stella, are you okay? Do you need the nurse?” I heard Lawson say. I opened my eyes completely and forced myself to ignore the discomfort so that I could focus on his towering frame above me.

  “I’m thirsty,” I rasped.

  “Here.” He held up a cup, with a straw, to my mouth. “The nurse said to sip it slowly.”

  The cool fluid flowed across my tongue and saturated my mouth and throat. It was wonderful. Oh, that is so much better. “Thank you.”

  Sitting back down, he trailed his finger down my cheek. “How are you feeling?”

  “Awful,” I explained, tears welling in my eyes as a kaleidoscope of emotions bubbled to the surface and spilled over. Seeing him so concerned and attentive hit me hard. It also reinforced that I loved him and that scared me to death. Throwing that emotional revelation into the mix of others swimming around in my battered brain meant I was a complete mess.

  “Don’t cry, Princess. You’ll feel worse.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, wiping my tears and trying to stem the tide.

  He leaned in and kissed me gently. “You have no reason to be sorry, but you have to stop keeping things in. It’s not healthy.” Lawson looked down then across to the other side of my bed. “And that’s why I told Julia you were here.”

  I followed his line of sight until I came face to face with my best friend of six years. “What?”

  “Ellie, thank god you’re all right. I’ve been so worried,” she said quickly, dragging her chair closer to the bed and placing her hand on mine.

  I was speechless and confused, but especially feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. It was too much. All of it. And rather than accept it was time to finally succumb to everything I had fled from, I turned to Lawson and directed my ball of anger at him. “You called her?”

  “No,” Julia interrupted, “I called you. Lawson answered and was worried. He told me you were here and, because today is —”

  “Enough!” I shouted, closing my eyes and regretting the outburst the moment I let it out. “Get out! Both of you, just leave. I want to be left alone.”

  “Stella, I’m sorry, but she needed to know.” Lawson grabbed my hand, his explanation suffused with equal amounts of regret and confidence in the decision he’d made.

  I kept my eyes shut, took back my hand, and gritted my teeth. “Get. Out!”

  The next thing I heard was the scraping of chairs, footsteps and the sound of the door opening and closing. As it clicked shut, a profound emptiness took over my soul, leaving me more hollow than I ever thought imaginable and prompting a pain-filled cry to escape my body.

  “Oh god!” I sobbed, shaking my head from side to side as tears found their way out of my still tightly closed eyes. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Yes, you can,” Julia’s soft voice sounded, at the same time as her hand found mine again.

  I didn’t flinch. Truth be told, the fact she was so stubborn and hadn’t left me alone was comforting and helped with the pain. “I can’t, Jules. It’s too hard.”

  “Estelle, you have to face what you’ve lost. You can’t truly honour Quinn’s life until you accept that she’s gone.”

  Hearing her name stabbed me through the heart. “No. No, no, no. She’s not real,” I cried.

  “Quinn was real. She was your baby girl and her short life deserves to be acknowledged by her mother. Estelle, you have to accept she was a part of your life, is a part of your life, and will always be a part of your life, but that she is now up in Heaven with her daddy —”

  “He killed her!” I bit out harshly, at the same time as opening my eyes and finding Julia’s. “He ended her life when he drove home drunk. He doesn’t deserve to be with her,” I cried again. “I do. I want my baby girl!” In that moment my existence crumbled into pieces of loss and heartache. “I had the most precious four-month-old baby to have ever lived, Jules,” I yelled, the sobs in between my words wracking my body. “And those four months of my life had been the most fulfilling and rewarding a person could experience. We were happy — Tristan, Quinn and I. We were Tristan’s angels and he would tell us that every day.”

  “I know, Ellie. I know. Tristan worshipped the ground you walked on.”

  Closing my eyes again, I continued to cry. “Then why? They were here and then ... then ... they were gone. Just like that.”

  Tristan had torn himself and Quinn out of my life as if they’d never been a part of it, so that’s what I’d told myself: that they’d been a dream, because it was the only logical explanation.

  They’d simply never been a part of my life.

  “Let it out, sweetie,” Julia said as she climbed onto the bed and wrapped her arms around me. “Let it out, once and for all. It’s time to acknowledge what you had, what you lost and what you can have once again. It’s time for you to forgive and say goodbye.”

  I took comfort in my best friend’s arms for a time I cannot calculate, but the measure of how long she rocked me as I cried, wept and dozed, and lay silent while I remembered my life with my husband and daughter, was not important. What was important was how I felt when I finally told her to release me from her arms; I felt — for the first time in nearly two years — at peace.

  “I don’t know about you, but I need to pee,” I said, exhausted, but with a wan smile.

  She stood up and stretched. “Thank goodness for that.”

  After relieving myself and climbing back into bed, and after Jules did the same and came to sit back down in the chair, I t
urned to her and simply mouthed the word, Thanks. She winked and then looked down at her fidgeting fingers.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry I ran and didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I’ve worried you. I just couldn’t stay. I couldn’t be in that house ... in that town for a second longer. It was killing me.”

  “It’s okay. I know. But you really need to get in contact with your parents. They are worried sick. Even your mum.”

  Turning my head to look at the ceiling, I closed my eyes for a split second and released a breath, knowing she was right. I needed to call them soon and explain my sudden absence, but not today. Today, I needed Lawson. I needed him to need me. I needed to let him into my heart and let him know he belonged there. I just hoped it was what he needed as well.

  Stretching for my phone, I scrolled to Lawson’s number. “I will call them. I promise. But first, I need to call Lawson. I need to make things right with him more than anyone.”

  “Yes, you do. I’ve only known him for a short amount of time, but in that time, he has acted like your knight in shining armour.” My eyes shot a glance in her direction and I let out a laugh, which then turned into a full-blown belly chuckle. Julia just sat there, looking astounded, as if I’d just suffered a concussion or something.

  “I think we might need to call the doctor to come check you out again,” she suggested, lightly mocking me.

  “No. I’m fine. You just have no idea what you just said, let alone implied.”

  She furrowed her brow.

  “Never mind.” I shook my head and dialled Lawson’s number, praying he’d answer.

  After one ring, it connected. “Princess.”

  “Toad.”

  “What do you need?”

  “You. I need my knight in shining armour,” I explained with a smile.

  Jules looked even more confused.