Pulled(84)
Author: A.L. Jackson

I smiled down at Melanie and squeezed her hand, knowing I would never be able to grasp the depth to which I was bound to this woman. “I heard you, too.” Her eyes fluttered closed, though her grip remained firm in mine.

The curtain rustled, and a doctor emerged, introducing himself as Dr. Anderson. He was tall and thin, his dark brown hair meticulously combed to the side, his eyes framed by metal-rimmed glasses. Melanie’s eyes remained closed as she breathed heavily in her sleep and never stirred during Dr. Anderson’s examination. I watched closely over his shoulder. It was clearly making him nervous, but I was certain he would be more thorough if he knew I was paying attention to everything he did.

“I’m going to have a plastic surgeon come down and suture these two lacerations,” he said, pointing to the one on her eyelid and the one under her chin, “I’ll suture the one in the mouth. The rest are just superficial. Then we’ll get CT scan to make sure she’s not having any swel ing from the trauma to the back of her head, and an x-ray of her chest and upper extremities, but from my exam, I’m guessing they’ll be negative. Other than that, she looks okay.”

The whole time they worked on her I stayed by her side, her smal hand held in mine. My spirit sang with hers, calming her, promising her she was safe, assuring her she would be fine.

I was certain Melanie’s body would heal easily, but feared her worst scars would be from the emotional damage Nicholas had inflicted on her over the last nine years.

When they wheeled Melanie’s sleeping form out of the ER and down the hallto get her CT and x-rays, I sat heavily in a chair, resting my head against the wal with my eyes shut. I was absolutely exhausted. I began to doze when a light tapping on my shoulder startled me. The same nurse who had tended to Melanie looked down at me apologetically. “Sir, there are police outside who need to speak with you.”

I raked my hands over my face, trying to wake myself. Two officers stood just outside Melanie’s room, talking quietly as I approached them. “I’m Daniel Montgomery. You needed to speak with me?”

“We need to ask you a couple of questions.” I answered each of their questions as honestly and as straightforwardly as I could, feeling only slightly uncomfortable when they asked about my relationship with Melanie. I could only imagine what they were thinking when I told them of our affair and the events that had led up to this afternoon. They had no idea about our past. They knew only that Melanie had been unfaithful to her husband. No matter what the circumstances, though, Nicholas had no right to hurt her, so I just answered the detectives and hid nothing.

Thankfully, they saw it the same way, another cut-and-dry case of domestic violence. It was obvious who the aggressor had been in the situation, and they promised me Nicholas would be charged as such.

I wandered back to the chair, finding a few moments more rest before they brought Melanie back. She was alert, one side of her face drawn in a smal smile when she saw me. She protectively guarded herself from moving in a way that would elicit a reaction to her wounds.

“Hi.” She reached for me, and I tenderly wrapped her up in my arms, careful not to cause her more pain, though she seemed to need my touch more than the caution I was trying to impart by not getting too close to her.

“Hey, beautiful. How are you feeling?” I leaned in to kiss her, so lightly my lips barely brushed against hers, but desperate to feel them.

“Sore,” she swal owed deeply, clearing her throat.

“But I’m okay.”

We both jumped when Dr. Anderson rushed in.

“So, allyour imaging was clear. Nothing’s broken, and there’s just a smal amount of swel ing around your brain, nothing to be too concerned about, but we are going to go ahead and admit you so we can keep an eye on you overnight.”

I trailed behind them as they moved her upstairs to the third floor. The sign indicating Newborn Nursery 5th Floor jumped out at me among the fourteen others.

I still couldn’t believe this had happened. I thought Melanie and I would have time by ourselves at home, time to talk and decide how we were going to handle this, time to plan. Now I’d run out of time, and I was a father.

As much as I needed to tel Melanie, I didn’t have the heart to do it. I could almost see the sadness that would cloud her eyes even though her words would be filled with soft encouragement and hope for my future.

She was fal ing asleep by the time they had her situated in her room. The words were garbled and slurred together as she muttered, “love…you…Daniel,” her tongue numbed by the meds, her mind lul ed into a false tranquility.

“I love you forever, sweetheart.” I kissed her forehead and drew her covers up under her arms, tucking them tightly around her body the way I knew she liked them and hoping they would provide her some comfort while I was away. With heavy feet and a wary heart, I trudged from her room, knowing I could no longer put off the inevitable.

My hand shook uncontrol ably when I reached out, pressing my index finger to the five, holding my breath as the elevator lifted me the two short floors.

Chapter 27

It felt like I was in the middle of a whirlwind when I stepped onto the floor. Everything was calm and serene except for the funnel cloud that swirled around me as the energy snarled and crackled. It was as if I were walking through a field of land mines, not knowing which step would trigger the end but knowing it would come. The feelings of regret and fear and grief circled in an endless cycle. What made it worse was that every painful memory of my life came back to originate in a place so similar to this.

My legs became weak when the glass window came into view. Infants’ beds were pushed up against it with each baby’s name proudly displayed above its tiny head. I tried to focus on the names, but my vision was blurry, and my mind rejected the truth that one of these children belonged to me.

“Sir, may I help you.” A woman in her late thirties looked at me, concerned. “Do you need to sit down?”

“I, uh…I…” I looked at her with a blank expression, having no clue what my own son’s name was. “I’m here to see baby Montgomery…or Levy?”

Fuck.

I didn’t even know his last name.

“And your relation to him?”

I choked as I forced it from my mouth. “Father.” She punched a couple of things into her computer.

“He’s in his mother’s room. I need to see some identification so I can sign you in.”

I handed her my license and watched as she printed out the bracelet and secured it to my wrist. I thanked her quietly and turned away, fingering the label that titled me the father of “baby boy Montgomery.”