15-05-2021-052358It-Ends-with-Us

I shake my head again. “Atlas, I swear.. .” I squeeze my eyes shut
and lower my head. “I’m not covering for him this time,” I whisper.
“He tried, but then he stopped.”
“If you choose to press charges, you’ll need—”
“I don’t want the exam,” I say again, my voice firm.
There’s a knock on the door and a doctor enters, sparing me from
more pleading looks from Atlas. The nurse gives the doctor a brief
rundown of my injuries. She then steps aside as he examines my head
and shoulder. He flashes a light into both of my eyes. He looks down
at the paperwork again and says, “I’d like to rule out a concussion, but
given your situation, I don’t want to administer a CT. We’d like to
keep you for observation, instead.”
“Why don’t you want to administer a CT?” I ask him.
The doctor stands up. “We don’t like to perform X-rays on
pregnant women unless it’s vital. We’ll monitor you for complications
and if there are no further concerns, you’ll be free to go.”
I don’t hear anything beyond that.
Nothing.
The pressure begins to build in my head. My heart. My stomach. I
grip the edges of the exam table I’m sitting on and I stare at the floor
until they both leave the room.
When the door closes behind them, I sit, suspended in frozen
silence. I see Atlas move closer. His feet are almost touching mine. His
fingers brush lightly over my back. “Did you know?”
I release a quick breath, and then drag in more air. I start shaking
my head, and when his arms come down around me, I cry harder
than I knew my body was even capable of. He holds me the entire
time I cry. He holds me through my hatred.
I did this to myself.
I allowed this to happen to me.
I am my mother.
“I want to leave,” I whisper.
Atlas pulls back. “They want to monitor you, Lily. I think you
should stay.”
I look up at him and shake my head. “I need to get out of here.
Please. I want to leave.”