/Samantha/
The physician heaved a sigh and looked at him pityingly before saying, "I'm sorry, I know that's hard to do but there's not much else we can do at this point other than simply wait and watch how your body reacts. " He said this while he was scribbling on Henry's chart. "The more the swelling goes down, the more we'll be able to see how much movement there is there," he remarked.
How much mobility do you have, and what exactly does that mean? Does it mean that even if treatment were successful, I still wouldn't be back to normal? " Henry tried to wriggle his way out of the bed while simultaneously hissing between his teeth and closing his eyes tightly.
The doctor gave him a light tap on the shoulder. "You need to just be still. Henry, you need to give your body a chance. This won't be resolved in a single night. I am aware of how difficult it is, but you will need to exercise patience and get as much rest as possible.
I took another step closer to him and gently massaged his face. "Henry just relax. Please, pay attention to what the doctor has to say; he is an expert in the field. I emphasised that point.
"We'll give it another day, and then send you back for another MRI and CT scan tomorrow, once the swelling has gone down some more," the doctor said. "We'll leave it at that for now." Henry, this is completely par for the course. The physician comforted him with a slap on the shoulder and told him, "Just be patient; I know it's difficult but it's the only thing you can do right now."
After a brief pause, during which he rewrote some notes on his chart, he gave a definitive nod. "I'll give the two of you some space to talk in private and I'll be back later. If there is a problem, please push the buzzer. He gestured with his head toward the hand-held button that was hung on the wall.
Henry made a conscious effort to stare in my direction as he exited the room. The expression on his face caused even more pain to arise within me. He seemed much more depressed than I had ever seen him look before, and if I could have switched places with him, I would have done so in an instant. It appeared as though he was already accepting his lot in life, as if he had already given up hope of ever being able to walk normally again.
"Don't worry about a thing, sweetie. Henry, we simply need to hold off for a little while longer because those tests don't really mean anything. As he advised, just wait for the swelling to go down, and in the meantime, try not to get too worked up about it, all right? I pleaded with her, and despite my best efforts to appear brave, I could tell that my voice was beginning to crack.
Suddenly, his eyes went from being sad and helpless to becoming angry. They fixed on mine and were harsh and accusatory. "I need you to leave, Samantha," he muttered. "I'm sorry."
I stared at him in shock, wondering what the devil that could possibly mean. Oh my God, he is placing the blame on me for this; he believes that this is entirely my fault because he believes that if Blake hadn't been stalking me, then he wouldn't have been in any danger. It was my fault, I was aware of that, and I would never forgive myself for it; nonetheless, the angry expression that he wore was actually as excruciating as true physical agony.
“What?” I hushed him while staring at him as if he had lost his mind. Did he in fact not want it to happen that I would leave?
"It is imperative that you depart. Now," he said at this point.
"Henry, sweetie, I beg of you. I mumbled, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" several times. I was able to keep my tears in check while I was in his presence, but as soon as I turned away from him, they began to stream down my cheeks uncontrollably.
He gave her a harsh look before shaking his head and saying, "You don't need to be sorry Samantha; just leave."
"I can't," I mumbled under my breath.
How long did he want me to leave, and how long would it take him to forgive me for what Blake did to him because of me? How long did he want me to leave for? A whole hour? A day? A week? I tried everything I could think of to get myself to get up and leave him, but I just couldn't do it. Is this the reason why he's been acting so distant and cold toward me all morning? Was he intending on doing this all morning since he was upset with me about what happened?
Even though we were both aware that I was to blame for this, I never in a million years imagined that he would actually ask me to leave him. If there is one thing on which I would be willing to stake my own existence, it is the fact that Henry will never, ever cut me out of his life. But at this very moment, he was engaging in that very activity. As I gazed at him, my heart was shattering, and the agony was beyond my ability to take. I was never going to make it through this, the agony was going to be too much for me to bear. Being separated from him would be the death of me. I couldn't believe he was this mad at me; surely he'd be able to forgive me by now, wouldn't he?
“Why? I understand that this is my fault, but please, Henry, let me stay here with you. I care about you. I am so sorry that something like this happened to you! I bent over and buried my forehead against the side of his neck while crying, taking cautious not to touch the tube that was poking out of his chest.
As he kissed the top of my head, his hands became tangled up in the hair at the back of my head. "I don't blame you, Samantha. Even though it was not your fault, Samantha, I am unable to love you. I'm sorry, but I really need you to leave so that I can stop thinking about you so much while I'm trying to get better so that I can focus on my recovery.
I had a death grip on the front of his hospital gown and was clinging to it for dear life because I had no idea what I would do if I let go. Could I survive even for an instant without having Henry in my life? Those few hours when I wasn't sure if he'd make it, or the hours when he was in surgery, those were the worst of my life, and I knew that if he had died I would have wanted to die too. Those hours were also the hours when he was in surgery.
I gave what he said some consideration. He wanted to put his attention solely on getting well. What exactly was the intended interpretation of that? He wasn't making sense! What could this possibly be about if it wasn't that he was trying to pin the blame on me?
“Why?” During the uncontrollable sobbing that ensued, I yelled on the skin of his neck, which caused him to pull his hand farther into the nape of my neck where my hair was.
He hushed, "I can't have you here while I'm like this, Samantha. I can't have you connected to someone like me." "I can't have you here while I'm like this," he said.
It dawned on me all at once that he did have feelings for me and that he had believed he was acting in my best interest when he took these actions. I took a step back to get a better look at him. Because he didn't want me to have to be with him if he couldn't walk, he used this nasty method to get rid of me because he didn't want me to have to be with him. Is he actually under the impression that I won't want to be with him as a result of that?
Does he have absolutely no idea who I am? After knowing me for all of these years, he still believes that I would abandon him just because there's a possibility that he'll spend the rest of his life confined to a wheelchair. There was no way that this was going to happen, and there was no way in hell that he was going to send me away from him for my own good. I could feel the wrath rising up inside of me.
"Henry, what the devil are you talking about? Are you kidding me right now? Tell me why you want me to leave, and tell me why you don't want to have anything to do with me anymore! I couldn't help but cry as I tried to clear the lump from my throat.
There had to be another explanation, because that couldn't possibly be the problem. Henry has never been selfish, and he has always put my happiness ahead of his own, but he had to be aware that this would be fatal for me. He wouldn't try to force me out of the relationship because he thought he was acting in my best interest, would he?
It was with a sigh that he turned his back on me and said, "Just go, Samantha."
"No," I yelled out angrily.
"All right, get the heck out of here! I don't want you to be in this room! I don't want you to be stuck with a f**king handicap simply because you feel sorry about anything or because you did something stupid. I don't want to deprive you of anything, and I don't want to let you down by telling you that I can't make love to you anymore. I don't want to do either of those things. I don't want to be the one who allows this to continue because then you'll leave me in a few years for someone who can walk and give you children, someone who can offer you all you deserve out of life.
I don't want to be that person. It will be much simpler for me to simply get over you now and finish the process all at once as opposed to beginning to rely on you and then having you abandon me later on. Just get the hell out of here and don't look back! He yelled while directing an angry look in my direction. He grabbed hold of my arm and pushed me in the direction of the exit just as one of the nurses burst through the door, having evidently heard his brief scream.
"What in the name of all that is holy is going on in here? Henry, you have to take a deep breath! You've recently undergone surgery; you should try to take it easy and give your body time to heal! As she approached his bedside and pressed the button on the portable heart monitor, the nurse wept angrily as she moved closer to him.
The rate of the beeping was so rapid that it genuinely frightened the living daylights out of me. While she was trying to calm Henry down by pushing on his shoulder and settling him down, she put a small oxygen mask over his face while staring at him anxiously. Henry was struggling for air.
"What's the matter? Is he ok?" I had a feeble question. When Henry's eyes flicked to me, I noticed that there was no sign of uncertainty in his eyes. I had never been so terrified in my entire life. This was it, everything that I thought would go on for all of time has come to an end. It was clear from the expression on his face that he wanted me to go, and seeing that made my heart break into a million pieces.