by Rebecca Shea
“We can do that from here,” she pouts.
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I wrap my arms around her. “I’ll bring you back here again. I promise.”
Settling into the truck, the drive home is quiet. Jess has dozed off, and we’re only a few miles from home. This weekend was confirmation of everything I knew I was feeling. I can’t live without her. I’ve been busting my ass working overtime and picking up shifts at the fire station to save all the money I can for an engagement ring and a house.
I know that I’m bringing her back to Santa Barbara; this is where I will propose to her. I will do whatever it takes to make her mine forever. I want to build my life with her: marriage, house, kids.
“Shit. Oh my God!” She screams. I swerve my truck, reacting to her sudden outburst.
“What? Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me,” I yell. A look of panic crosses her face, and she’s dumping her purse all over the car seat. Shit is flying everywhere.
“Settle down. Whatever it is, you’ll find it. Just please, calm down.”
“Calm down? I haven’t taken my birth control pills in three days.” My heart stops.
“What did you just say?”
“You heard me.” Her eyes are filling with tears, and she’s still flinging shit all over the seat. Turning down our street I pull up in front of Jess’ house.
“Babe, this is going to be fine. It was just a couple of days. You’ll find them at home. Just take them immediately, okay?” She nods her head at me, but I can see she’s scared. Shit, so am I.
“I’ll get your bags. Go find your pills, then you can cook me dinner, woman.” I wink at her, trying to lighten the mood. Tossing her bags in her room, I sit on the edge of the bed. She went straight to the bathroom, and the sounds of her rummaging through drawers frantically fill the silent house. Kicking off my shoes, I lie down, curling up with her pillow. I love how everything smells like her.
“I can’t find them anywhere,” she shouts, walking into her room. I can tell she’s reached a panicked state.
“Babe, calm down.”
“You calm the fuck down, Gabe!” Jesus Christ, she’s pissed!
“Sorry I didn’t mean to upset you. Just call your doctor tomorrow morning and see if they’ll call you in a new prescription.”
She’s biting her lip, and I can see her brain working. I know how she operates, she’s retracing every day and trying to remember when the last time she took her pill was and where she was.
“I think it might have been more than three days ago,” she’s whispers. Okay, that got my attention.
“How many days?” I hiss.
“Four or five. I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. What if…” I cut her off.
“No matter what happens. Nothing will change my feelings for you. Please try to not stress about this until you call your doctor, okay?” Nodding her head, she comes to sit down on the bed with me.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
“I know.”
Pulling her down, I wrap her in my arms and snuggle with her. I can feel her heart beating rapidly, and her body is tense. I know she’s worried as hell. The rest of the evening is full of strained silence. We’re both thinking about the ‘what if’s.’
“Thanks for making dinner, babe,” I whisper to her and gently kiss her ear.
“You’re welcome,” she whispers back with a fake smile.
I just want to ease her fears, but I know nothing I say will make her feel better.
“Let’s go to bed,” I say, gently tugging at her arm. Taking a deep breath, she pushes herself off the couch and into my arms, squeezing me tightly.
“Gabe.” I can hear her voice break. Pulling her back from me so I can look at her, she stumbles slightly. “Please tell me, that if I am pregnant, you won’t leave me? I don’t think I could do this on my own.”
Tears leak from her eyes and run down her cheeks. Cupping her round cheeks with both of my hands, I wipe her tears with my thumbs. Pulling her back into me, her body is trembling with sobs. All I can do is hold her while she cries and reassure her that it’s not even an option.
“Listen to me.” I tip her chin up, drawing her eyes to mine. “I will never leave you, ever. Do you understand me?” My tone is firm and aggressive. I’m not mad at her, but it hurts a bit that she’d question my commitment to her. “There is nothing, and I mean nothing that will come between us. You are mine forever. When the time comes that we have babies, whether that’s now or in the future, don’t you ever question my love for you or them. Do you understand? There is no leaving. Ever.”
With a big inhale, Jess squeezes me tighter and nods her head.
“I love you,” I whisper into her hair.
“I love you too,” she says, pressing her lips to my chest and kissing me through my t-shirt.
“Now stop stressing about this, please,” I beg her. “Let’s go to bed.”
When I wake in the morning, I notice she is already gone. She has an early class on Monday’s, but I usually see her out the door. We both went to sleep with a lot on our minds, and I know I was tired, but I’m just surprised I didn’t hear her at all this morning. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I see that I have a message from Jess.
Coffee is in the kitchen. I’ll be home around 2:00. I love you.
I miss you when I don’t wake up next to you :( Love you more.
Waiting for her to get back from class, I go home to unpack from our trip. Planning to hit the gym, I hope to relieve any lingering stress from the missing birth control saga. We normally run on Monday’s after Jess’ class, so I’ll get my cardio in with her. That’s the only cardio I’ll be doing with her until we figure out our little problem. Where the hell do pills just disappear to anyway?
Making quick work of the gym, and laundry, I’m waiting at home for her to arrive. I love being here when she gets home. As I’m thinking about her, I hear her car pull into the driveway. The front door opens, and my beautiful girl bounces through, looking happy and confident, and not at all scared like she was yesterday.
“Want to go for a run in a bit?” she asks, walking by me and tossing her bag onto the floor.
“Sure. You look happy.”
“I am happy.” Her eyes twinkle. “Let me get changed and we’ll go.”
She hurries off down the hallway. Grabbing my tennis shoes, I lace them up while waiting on her. My phone rings, and I check the screen. “Shit,” I mumble to myself.
“What’s up Chief?” I answer, already knowing why he’s calling. He wants me to pick up a shift. Hanging up, I know she isn’t going to be happy.
“Babe,” I call out.
“Almost ready,” I hear her respond.
Walking down the hallway, I open her door.
“Chief called.” It’s not hard to ignore the giant eye roll she does.
“Let me guess,” she says sarcastically. “You’re picking up a shift?” And that happy girl that bounded through the door just vanished.
I pull her into me. “It’s just half a shift, twelve hours,” I grumble. But I know the extra money will help me get a ring on her finger faster so I agreed to pick up the shift, knowing that it might upset her.
“I know you love your job, but when will you ever say no? I don’t want to live like I did growing up, never having my dad around. I want a man that’s going to be around for my family and me. I feel like you’re turning into my dad,” Jess spits out, pushing away from me and reaching down to grab her tennis shoes.
“I’ll never be your dad,” I snap at her, pissed at the insinuation.
“Kind of looks like you already are,” she fires back at me, tying up her tennis shoes and not making eye contact with me. A rush of guilt rolls over me. She thinks I’m choosing work over her.
“I will call you later,” I mutter. She still won’t even look up at me. “I love you.” Getting no response, I step it up. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Sure you wi
ll.”
“Jess, please stop acting like this.”
“Just go,” she says quietly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Jogging down our street, I see Gabe getting in his truck to leave. My breathing is fast and rugged because I’m pissed off that he keeps putting his job before me. I understand that he’s still new and he’s learning, but he picks up every extra shift that he can. This is exactly what my dad did while I was growing up, although he did it as a way of burying his feelings and keeping himself busy after my mom died. My insecurities are telling me Gabe would rather be at work than spending time with me.
Running down Main Street past the little Italian restaurant we went too, I plan to run another mile down to Washington Park. This park holds many fond memories for me, and it’s absolutely beautiful this time of year. There is a small creek that winds through the park with a paved running path that follows the banks of the creek. I turn up the volume on my iPhone music just slightly as I let the burn of my lungs wash away the anger that I had when Gabe left me at the house.
Running faster than I normally do, I push myself harder so that I can get a good workout, but also, to get home quickly. My legs are stiffening a bit from starting out so hard. I make it down Main Street and into the park entrance in a little less than twelve minutes; that’s fast for me. I’m pleasantly surprised and happy with my time.
The park is absolutely stunning. There are spring flowers and cattails growing around the banks of the creek. With the light breeze you can smell the fragrance from the flowers. It’s almost a citrusy smell, very calming. The grass is bright green and has been recently cut, and the trees are mature with full, large leaves. I notice several other runners coming out of the park in the direction that I’m heading; we wave as we pass each other.
The path curves around the creek and is lined by large oak trees with branches that reach out over the path. The setting sun behind the trees makes the path a bit darker than it actually is this time of day. It’s a gorgeous late spring evening. My earphones are plugged into my iPhone, and when Pink comes on, I turn it up just a bit more. Taking my eyes off the path to look at my phone, I feel myself falling to the ground.
My face hits the grass hard, and I can see my phone slide across the ground and into the tall grass that lines the edge of the creek. Shit. Rolling over to see what has knocked me over, or what I tripped over, I see a fist coming straight at my face. Trying to block the fist, I’m too late, feeling the excruciating blow to the side of my head. Hearing myself gasp, I see white stars before everything goes black.
Beep… Beep… Beep…
Hearing the beeping of machines, I can feel the heaviness of my eyes. Struggling to open them, I can see the darkness through the blinds covering the only window in the small room. Slowly lifting my head, I am overcome with nausea, and I can tell that I have been medicated.
I have the worst headache I’ve ever had, and with each beat of my heart, I can feel my head pound. Raising my arm to feel my face, I can feel the slight pull of the IV that is placed in my hand. I can hear hushed voices, one of them Gabe’s, coming from just outside my room. I need to find the call button, knowing there is one here somewhere. I’ve never been hospitalized before, but I spent a good portion of my toddler years lying in a hospital bed with my mom and remember her pushing that button when she needed a nurse.
Trying to sit up, every muscle in my body aches. What the hell happened to me? I feel like I’ve been hit by a car. Lying back down, I close my eyes, trying to remember anything. I remember running, and falling, and that’s where my memory stops.
Hearing the quiet squeak of my door, I slowly open my eyes and turn my head towards the door. Gabe walks in, making eye contact with me. Rushing to the bed, he presses a kiss to my forehead before he sits on the edge of the bed and holds my hand.
“When did you wake up?” he whispers, pulling my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles gently. My mouth is so dry when I try to speak that nothing comes out. Closing my mouth I swallow a couple of times, and I’m able to squeak out a few words with my voice breaking.
“Just a minute ago. Why am I here? What happened?” He squeezes my hand but hesitates to say anything.
“You’re okay, Jess. You’re going to be okay,” he says, his eyes bloodshot and full of unshed tears, sounding more like he’s convincing himself. I haven’t seen him cry since he was eight-years old and broke his arm after he fell off his bike. He is the strongest person physically and emotionally that I know.
“Why are you crying?” I ask him. Without answering, he stands up and leans over me, pressing a gentle kiss to lips. Dropping my hand, he reaches his arms underneath my shoulders, pulling me into a hug, his shoulders shaking gently as he squeezes me a bit harder. Reaching my arms up and around his broad shoulders, I squeeze him back as best I can. I’m weak, and I don’t have the strength to squeeze him harder.
“What happened?” I ask him again.
Pulling back from me he kisses my forehead again and then my cheek. Running his thumb over my left cheekbone, I feel pain and the pressure, even though his touch is gentle and caring.
“I have to go tell the doctor that you’re awake. I’ll be right back, okay?”
I nod at him in acknowledgement. Turning to walk away, I notice now that he’s wearing his work t-shirt that has ‘G. Garcia’ written across his right chest and on the back it reads ‘Santa Ruiz Fire Department.’ He must have come straight from work. Still trying to piece together what happened and what day it is and what time it is, I hear my door open again. In walks a doctor and a nurse with Gabe and my dad standing behind them.
“Ms. Harper,” the doctor says. “I’m Doctor Lefson. I’m glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
Shrugging, I look back and forth between him, the nurse, and Gabe.
“This is Jennifer, your nurse. Mr. Garcia, Mr. Harper, we’ll need you to step outside while we talk to Ms. Harper,” he instructs, nodding at the door.
“No, he can stay.” I reach my hand to Gabe. He looks to the doctor for approval before moving over to the side of the bed and pulling my right hand in between both of his. My dad turns and quietly leaves the room. “We’re going to check your vitals and get some blood work first, but we need to talk to you about what you remember.”
“I don’t know why I’m here or what happened,” I say. “I don’t remember anything.” He lowers his eyes, looking to Gabe. Dr. Lefson moves towards me and pulls his stethoscope off of his neck setting it at the foot of my bed.
The silence in the room is deafening, and Gabe nervously rubs my hand between both of his. “Will someone please tell me why the fuck I’m here?” Hot tears sting my eyes and Dr. Lefson casually sits his right leg on the free space at the end of the bed looking at me cautiously.
“Jessica, this evening you went running and you were attacked. Upon arrival, you were unconscious, so we performed a CT scan, which showed no internal bleeding or broken bones.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. The way everyone has been avoiding my question, I thought maybe I was dying. “Well that’s good right?”
“You have swelling and bruising to your face and eyes but it appears most of your physical injuries are minor. However, we need your consent to perform an additional examination.” Dr. Lefson’s voice is soft and quiet. Gabe holds my hand tightly offering little reassuring squeezes. “When you were brought in, you were unclothed from the waist down. We have reason to believe you may have been sexually assaulted.”
A heat washes over me like I’ve never felt. My ears burn and my throat constricts.
“We’d like to further examine you and check for additional injuries or evidence.” I can’t think. I can’t feel. I just nod my head in approval.
“Okay, Jenny and my colleague Dr. Jordan will perform the examination. We will need you to sign some paperwork allowing us to collect evidence and take pictures if needed. It will be important and needed for prosecution.” He’s so fucking robotic with h
is words. Like this is shit he says every day. “The exam is very thorough, and can take a couple of hours, is there someone else,” he looks at Gabe and then back to me, “that you’d like to have here with you?”
Shaking my head no to him, I squeeze Gabe’s hand.
“I need to do this alone,” I whisper, and look up at Gabe. His eyes are still full of unshed tears, and he doesn’t immediately move. Squeezing my hand one last time, he releases my hand and walks to the door, pausing before he opens it and then exits.
“Dr. Jordan will be in shortly. Jenny has all the paperwork and will walk through everything with you.” He nods, grabbing his stethoscope and leaves through the same door Gabe just did. For the next two hours, I was swabbed in multiple places, had my fingernails scraped and cut, and had my blood drawn. I waited for them to finish the exam and confirm what my body already knew.
I was given multiple antibiotics and an emergency contraceptive pill since I had missed my birth control pills. The last few hours were like an out of body experience for me. Inside I wanted to cry, to hurt, but nothing came. After taking their pictures and bags of evidence, I’m finally alone.
Curling into a ball, I lie in this cool hospital room and try to feel something: hate, anger, sadness, but all I am, is numb. I hear the door to my room open and the quiet footsteps stop near the edge of my bed. I know it’s him. I don’t need to see him, or hear him. I have always been able to feel his presence.
“Jess?” he asks quietly.
“Go away.” My voice is flat, emotionless.
“No. I need to be here with you.”
“Please, leave.”
“Don’t push me away, please. I love you,” he pleads with me.
“I know you do. I just need some time.” My voice breaks, and finally the tears come. I can’t fight them, and they roll down my cheeks as sobs escape me. The bed shifts, and I feel him slide in behind me, his large arms pulling me gently against the front of him. He’s curled around me, spooning me and holding me so tightly, my ribs hurt with the pressure from his arms, but having him next to me is the most comforting feeling in the world.
