Page 48 of Possessed By You

I feel a sharp prick in my neck, and instantly, the drugs drift through my veins, numbing my movement first. My consciousness is coming second. I use the last seconds I have to turn my head to the congregation of doctors standing over my husband.

I black out before I can see him.

***

“Mrs. Scott?” Cold fingers are against my arm. I tilt my cheek to the voice, wetting my lips to try and produce moisture. “Mrs. Scott? Can you hear me?”

My eyelids flutter open, my vision unfocused and blurred. I try to place my hand to my head to clutch my throbbing skull, but an IV makes it impossible.

“Oh no, honey. Don’t do that.”

The moment I see her, and recognize her to be the woman in the waiting room, the flashbacks hit me like a bulldozer, stealing all breath from my lungs.

I gasp, feeling my lips tremble as I try to control the tears that are coming. “Benjamin…”

“Isstable.”

I latch onto her words with hope, quite sure I’m actually dreaming. “He’s what?”

“Your husband is stable, Darcy. Benjamin is alive.”

I choke back a gasp, unsure of what my body wants to do. It resorts to tears, gut wrenching wails that escape me like a flood. I shield my face as she holds me, letting me release and feel the full force of the trauma.

“He’s alive?”

“He’s alive, Mrs. Scott. I think he’s going to be fine.”

The sight of him on that gurney, so pale, surrounded in his blood, is still vivid in my mind, making it hard to believe her words. My tears consume me…for my husband and for the child we’ve lost. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

Maybe it was the devastation of the accident. Maybe it was the strong cramping pain I kept experiencing at the accident scene. But I know she’s gone.

“When did I lose the baby?” I ask.

She blinks at my knowledge but answers me clearly. “In the ambulance.”

The loss of our baby stuns me, but I’m so heavily medicated, I don’t think I can absorb it like I normally would. I stare at the pale white blanket, my cheeks soaking.

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

I shake my head, unable to form words.

“Are you thirsty? Do you need anything?” she asks, puffing up the pillows behind me.

“Uh, some water, please.”

I take the flimsy cup from her, seeing jagged cuts on my hands through my blurred vision. “I’m…I’m sorry I fought you.”

“It was understandable,” she replies, checking my vitals.

“I can’t remember anything.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was being sedated. Benjamin wasn’t alive, I don’t think. Everyone was trying to resuscitate him.”

“It’s the going gossip right now that you brought him back. Even the newspapers have gotten wind of it. He was a complete flatline, and seconds after you touched him, he breathed. With the injuries he sustained, he should be dead.”

“What are his injuries? Is he in pain? I need to see him.”