My voice is still a bit horse, and it scratches with every word. “I’m fine. I was trying to get the blanket back on my feet, but the finger monitor thing fell off.”
“Let me help you.” He grabs the bottom of the blanket and pulls it down, tucking it tightly under my feet. “How’s that?”
“Good. Can you help me find the finger thing? I think it fell on the floor over here,” I say, pointing to the cord. “Thanks. Did you get some sleep?” I ask, hoping he says yes. He refuses to leave.
“A little. Did you?” He returns to his seat, pulls it close to the bed, and offers me his hand. His warm skin is inviting.
“Meh. My head still hurts a bit. It’s making it difficult to get comfortable.” A pain in his eyes has me watching him closely, but then I realize that pain is anger. “What’s wrong?” I ask though I’m sure I know the answer.
He sighs, rubbing soft circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. It feels good, numbing almost, from the repetition. “I’m so mad, Abby. At Sam for doing this to you. At myself for not being there to protect you. At the universe for allowing this to happen. I mean really, who gets off on this shit?” Silence settles between us as we both lament the day’s happenings. “You’ll press charges, right?” he asks suddenly.
“They’re going to press charges no matter what,” I say, but I know that’s not what he wants to hear.
“You know what I mean.” He stares at me intensely, but it’s not intimidation. It’s sorrow.
“I don’t know.” I pause. “I don’t want to give him another reason to find me. And I know he would. I don’t know how he does it, but it terrifies me.” Tears spill down my cheeks. I don’t speak for a long moment. Dallas gives me the time to process as I cry. We hold hands while the emotions flood in. “What did I do wrong?” I ask in a shaky voice.
“Woah, hey,” he starts. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. You didn’t deserve this.” Dallas hugs me gently, but tightly, running his fingers through my tangled hair, attempting to soothe my nerves.
My body tightens as the knot in my throat grows. My breathing quickens with each passing second. I suck in a sharp breath when my lungs demand more air, but it comes in short bursts. I squeeze Dallas’s hand, frantically searching for something, anything, to latch onto, to ground me. Dallas’s shoulder quickly turns into wet fabric with each tear I shed, but he doesn’t pull away until I do.
“I’m right here. I’ve got you. I’ll never let this happen again,” he whispers repeatedly. “You’re safe.” He kisses the top of my hand delicately as if touching me any harder might break me even further.
Minutes pass as we let the emotions run high. I haven’t let myself cry since getting here. Not for the sake of trying to be strong, but for the sake of not wanting to admit how bad it was, how bad it is. Somehow, crying makes it more real. I can’t ignore what happened if the emotions fully materialize. I don’t want to concede to this.
I’ve never seen this side of Dallas before, this sadness, but it’s laced with heartbreak and anger. His face is contorted as he looks me over, focused on the bruising and cords fastened to my arms. I calm slowly from the panic attack, letting my lungs collect the air they so desperately need.
I’ve finally fallen asleep when a nurse wakes me up to get permission for the cops to return. “They’ve got a few questions for you if that’s okay.”
I look to Dallas though I’m not sure what I’m looking for. I don’t need him to tell me if it’s okay to talk or not. I already know he wants me to. I don’t need his approval either. Maybe I’m so used to waiting for Sam to give me the go-ahead on everything I do that it’s a habit at this point, and I’m just now realizing it.
Dallas watches me intently, waiting for my decision. I focus back on the nurse, who types something into the computer. “Okay.”
She smiles at me, but it’s all pity. Or maybe sympathy? I’m not sure at this point. It all looks the same. She moves to the door, ushering the officers into the room. “I’ll be at the nurses' station. Let me know if you need anything.” Her bright smile to them almost contradicts the ones she’s given me the entirety of my stay.
The male officer speaks first. “Hi, Ms. Cooper. I’m Officer Pierce, but you can call me Dan. This is my partner, Officer Putnam.”
“Please, call me Olivia.” She offers a friendly smile. “Is Abigail okay or would you prefer we call you something else?”
“Um,” I stutter, trying to come to grips with what’s about to happen. “Abby is fine.”
“Abby, of course. We have a few questions for you. But first, I’d like to speak to you alone if that’s all right. It won’t be long.” She looks between Dallas and me.
“Okay,” I hesitate.
Dallas stands, a look of concern on his face. “I’ll be in the hall right outside the room.” He squeezes my hand before following Officer Pierce out the door.
Once the door shuts, Olivia moves to the side of the bed, sitting in the chair Dallas was just in. “I won't ask how you are, because I know this is all very overwhelming and I’m sure that’s all anyone has asked you in the last few hours.”
My nerves alleviate, appreciating her directness. “Thanks,” I say, looking at my now empty hand.
“Before we start with the procedural questions, I want to make sure you feel safe. In the hospital, with your nurses and doctors, and with,” she looks at her notepad, “Dallas, is it?” She cocks her head to the side.
“I do, yeah.” My voice is shaky. I’m still on edge.
“That’s great to hear. If at any point you don’t feel safe, you can call me. I’ll give you my direct number. Are you comfortable with Officer Pierce being here for the questioning? As well as Dallas? If not, I assure you, it can just be you and I in here.”
I take a deep breath before answering, trying to decide if I want all that company. “I think that’ll be okay. I do want Dallas in here at least.”
