TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy) Read Free

heavy heart. I have a scar on my
stomach, which I have yet to see, and a feeling of emptiness that is sucking my
energy with the force of a black hole. I remember falling into this dark place
and now, clawing my way out of it will take every ounce of willpower I have.
    The
door opens and a smartly dressed nurse of around forty enters, pushing a silver
trolley. On the top of it is a bowl of steaming water fragranced with something
flowery. Beside it is a white, fluffy towel and a flannel; next to that an
assortment of toiletries and a mirror. I assume I’m to have a bed bath.
    “Good
afternoon Elizabeth. It’s good to see you’re awake. My name is Lorna. Now let’s
get you feeling a little fresher, shall we?”
    Silently,
I nod and prepare to be bathed.
     
    I’m
feeling a little better when Ayden returns laden down with brown paper bags,
brimming over with food. I assume he has invited guests as there’s surely
enough for a party of four. He proceeds to empty the contents onto the side
table, whispering something about knives and forks. I take my eyes off the food
and give him a lengthy appraisal from head to toe, noticing his roughly dried
hair and the four o’clock shadow on his chin that fails to conceal the bruises.
I look at his hands and how they are bruised and grazed on the knuckles, the
result of bare-fisted brawling with my monster. But, most of all, I focus on
the clouds of sadness extinguishing the fire in his eyes. He is a man
exhibiting the emotional and physical scars of a life and death struggle. He’s
my savior. He’s the man I adore.
    “Ayden,”
I call, drawing his eyes from the food to me. “Help me sit up and tell me what
you’ve brought for dinner.” A person can only wallow in self-pity for so long.
    One
handed, I eat what I can of the delicious pasta and vegetables and sample the
meat dish, trying to appear willing but, in truth, forcing it down.  Ayden’s
doing the same and we both pick at gourmet food that finds its way into our
mouths only to stick in our throats. It’s a kind of weight-watchers waltz that
involves pushing food around a plate and feigning consumption. We’re both too
full of sorrow to eat.
    I
pat my mouth with a napkin and marvel at the swiftness with which Ayden clears
away the food, refilling the bags until they are once again brimming over. With
that distraction out of the way he fluffs up my pillow and perches on the side
of the bed, preparing to make idle gossip, but he has absolutely no idea how to
do that and I come to his rescue.
    “Have
you spoken to Charlie?”
    He
nods, thankful for my conversation starter. “Yes. She was one of the first
people I called. She’s been here three times while you were sleeping.”
    “Is
she alright?”
    “You’re
the one in the hospital bed, Beth,” he reminds me.
    “I
know but she worries about me.”
    “As
well she might, you’ve been to hell and back.”
    I
force an amiable smile. “I’d like to see her later. Just to let her know I’m
okay.”
    “I’ll
call her, don’t worry. Do you feel tired?” He pulls up the bedding around my
waist.
    “No.
Just worn out, but I’ll be alright.”
    “You
will. The consultant Gynecologist should be along soon. He has the results of
some tests and of the ultrasound scan you had this morning.”
    “This
morning? Why don’t I remember that?”
    “You’ve
been sedated. I told them I didn’t want you to suffer, so they thought it best
you rested while your body healed.”
    “Oh.
I suppose I should thank you for that.”
    “No
need. I was happy to watch you sleep.” His hand finds my face. “You’re so
beautiful, Beth”
    I
huff away the compliment. “I don’t feel beautiful and the nurse wouldn’t let me
see myself in the mirror. She said maybe tomorrow as if I was a two year old.
Why don’t you pass me a mirror so I can see just how beautiful I am?”
    He’s
shaking his head. “There’s no rush. Just take my word for it, for now.”
    “You’re
a