Truth, стр. 127
Claire exhaled, “Chester is dead, no more danger.”
He leaned toward her, “Are you seriously going to argue about this, covered in bruises and carrying my baby?”
He was close; she raised her chin and kissed his pursed lips. “Not right now,” she smiled. “Let me get some rest and get a little stronger and then I will.” She watched his eyes soften as a smile caused his cheeks to rise.
“Good,” he kissed her again. “I look forward to it.” He squeezed her hand. “We don’t know if Patrick Chester was working alone. Until we find out and find your laptop, this isn’t negotiable.”
Claire debated protesting. While Tony’s expression warned otherwise, that wasn’t what stopped her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to argue. What if there was someone else? “I need some sleep for this headache to go away, and then I’ll respond with the appropriate cheekiness for you.”
His eyes continued to lighten, “Even looking like you do, I think you’re sexy as hell.” He gently kissed her forehead, “Do you think now is a good time to tell your entourage our news?”
Claire looked down. “No, they know.” Tony’s eyebrows went up. “The doctor told Harry before I woke. He told everyone else.”
Dark clouds returned to his gaze, “Why would the doctor tell him?”
“She assumed he was the father.”
His words slowed as his posture straightened, “And does he assume that as well?”
Claire thought she might be ill. She was single. She and Tony weren’t married, engaged, or anything else. At least they weren’t when she and Harry...So why did she feel so guilty. Shyly she replied, “Yes.”
If she’d slapped him, he couldn’t have stood faster. For a split second Claire feared he was heading for the door. She worried more for Harry than for herself. However, Tony stopped his progress and paced around the small hospital room, keeping his eyes fixed on his shoes moving rapidly upon the glossy linoleum. Claire didn’t speak; Tony needed to work this out himself. Instead, she laid her head upon the pillow and closed her eyes.
His voice brought her back, “You’re sure I’m the father?”
Claire opened her eyes, her voice steady, “Yes, you were at the condominium two weeks before Harry and me... Well, at the ultrasound the doctor said the heartbeat isn’t detectable until six weeks. If he were the father, I would have barely been five weeks along. At that time, I was seven.” She reached for his hand. After a moment of hesitation he stepped to her. She continued, “Tony, I didn’t know we were together until you confirmed it at the gala. I remember it, but I truly thought it was a dream.”
He sighed and sat again on her bedside. “You were very tired, but you were talking. You mentioned something about a dream. I may be guilty of taking advantage of a tired woman, but nothing else.”
“How did you get back in the condo? I remember closing and locking the door.”
“You closed it, but you didn’t lock it. Or, it didn’t lock. I came back to say something, and I heard something fall. It sounded like it broke. I listened but didn’t hear anything else. So, I decided to check on you. The door opened.” He confessed, “I didn’t knock. You were on the couch. I carried you to your bedroom. I can say with honorable intentions, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Claire, I asked you multiple times. You never said no.”
She sighed, “I remember wanting you. I’d spent half the night dreaming about you, until I gave up and stayed awake. That’s why I was so tired.”
His smile lit her world. “You dreamt about me?”
“Yes, it was after our dinner. I hadn’t seen you since ... the jail in Iowa.”
He softly kissed her lips, and his eyes sparkled, “You dreamt about me?”
She smirked, “Yes, you egotistical narcissist. I did.”
“I’ve dreamt about you, too. I think it may have something to do with seeing your beautiful face above my fireplace every night before I fall asleep.”
The door opened, and they turned to see the nurse return. “I’m sorry, sir, Ms. Nichols needs her rest. I’m closing her door to visitors for a while.”
Tony stood with Claire’s hand still in his. “What about...?” he asked.
“I’ll tell them. I was about to tell Harry when you showed up.”
Tony turned to the nurse, “How long is a while?”
She looked to Claire. Suddenly, Claire realized the nurse was probably sent to save her. Claire replied, “I want Mr. Rawlings here whenever possible.”
The nurse spoke to Tony, “Let her sleep through the night.”
Tony nodded, “I can do that.” He bent down and kissed Claire, “I’ll be back in the morning.”
“Good. I think you look like you could use some sleep too.” Although her head hurt, her emerald eyes glistened through her bruised face.
As she turned to watch him leave, she saw four sets of eyes watching their goodbye and focusing on Tony as he politely passed their human wall. The door closed.
“Nurse, I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”
“Terri.”
“Terri?” Claire asked softly. “Could you please tell my other visitors I need rest? I really don’t have the energy to talk with any of them.”
Terri nodded, “I can do that. This medicine should help your pain and help you sleep.”
“It won’t hurt the baby?”
“No, it’s completely safe.”
Claire watched as Terri injected something into her IV. She closed her eyes and allowed the medicine to take effect as Terri walked to the hall and addressed Claire’s entourage.
Blissfully, sleep took her away.
A woman must not depend on the protection of man, but must be taught to protect herself.
—Susan B. Anthony
Chapter 53
Claire woke to a piercing pain in her head and a throbbing ache in her side. She tried to keep herself still and evaluate the nausea building within. She remembered eating with Tony on Sunday afternoon; had she eaten since? There couldn’t be anything in her empty stomach to revolt, yet it was. She hit the nurse call button and peered out the window, attempting to divert her attentions. Her window looked over the roofs of the sprawling hospital and beyond to Stanford’s Medical Campus. Past the campus in the distance, she saw the mountains. The lightening sky and lingering fog told her morning had finally arrived. It was Wednesday and her family and friends had been waiting all night, for multiple nights.
She needed to talk to them. She knew Harry deserved a private discussion; hopefully, the others would agree to a group session. Claire didn’t relish the idea of repeating her story over and over. She turned to the sound of the opening door.
“Hello, Ms. Nichols, I’m Abbey your day nurse.”
“Please, call me Claire.”
“Claire, what can I do for you?”
Claire asked about getting up and out of the bed. After Abbey checked the chart, she assisted Claire to the bathroom. On the way, Claire worried about her reflection. She hadn’t seen herself yet. She knew from Tony’s reaction she looked as bruised as she felt. Steeling herself for the worse, she bravely faced the woman in the mirror.
Walking to and from the bathroom required help. By the time they were done, her tubes were disconnected, she was sponged clean, her teeth brushed, and thankfully, her bladder emptied. Claire would have loved to wash her hair and add makeup to cover the various shades of bruises on her checks and temples, and the deep purple under her left eye. Nevertheless, she felt better.
This was in many ways easier than her accident. Although she tried not to make comparisons, they were staring her in the face: injury to head and ribs. Ironically the injuries ensued by a crazy greedy monster were less than those obtained by the man who claimed to love her. Claire continued to remind herself, Harry stopped Patrick. What would have happened if he hadn’t – if Tony hadn’t called Harry – if Phil and security hadn’t come? With her accident, no one stopped Tony. He stopped himself – eventually. The most monumental difference was internally. Following her accident, Claire lost all desire to continue forward. She remembered a black hole of apathy. She didn’t feel that way now. Despite her battered appearance, Claire’s desire to live was stronger than it had ever been. She saw hope for better tomorrows with every new day.