Unintended

“Yeah. He was admitted a few hours ago, badly beaten. A domestic, apparently.”

My jaw dropped and my heart started to pound again. “A domestic? His… his girlfriend put him in here?”

She nodded. “It seems that way. The police were called by the neighbours when they heard screaming. They thought he was hurting her, but she had been screaming in some kind of drunken rage and was the one who was hurting him.”

Tears came to my eyes again, this time brought on by anger. How could anyone do that to someone they were supposed to love?

“Erm…” I stuttered. “What… what did she…?”

The nurse placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, understanding what I was trying to ask. “He doesn’t look good. He has gashes on his neck, scratches on his face, a black eye, and a cut lip. There is further bruising on his legs, and three cracked ribs. More bruising to his chest and stomach. He is extremely lucky someone alerted the police when they did. I know this is hard to hear, but when the police went in to take her, he was just lying on the floor. Conscious, but allowing her to keep doing what she was doing. He was shaking, in a state of shock, we think, but…” she paused and squeezed my arm, “… we’re concerned about his mental state. He will be here in the hospital for at least a few days while we control his pain, but we might need to run a psychological assessment on him too. He could still be in shock, which is unsurprising. We just have to see how things go.”

I dropped my head back, blowing out a breath.

Poor guy. He’d been close to the edge not that long ago. I was grateful someone had reached him in time. Who knew what would have happened if she’d left him alone and nobody had been there to help him?

“The girlfriend,” I said. “Do you know what happened to her?”

She’d better be in jail, because if I get my hands on her, I will end up in jail.

The nurse shook her head again. “She was arrested at the scene, but that’s all we know. The police will be here later, so they might be able to tell you more if you’re still here.”

I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“Has his mum been informed?” I asked, remembering that, even though she wasn’t in the country, she still needed to know.

“Yes, she has,” the nurse answered. “She’ll be here as soon as she can, but with it being Christmas and all, she’s got to work out flights.”

I nodded. “Okay. I will try to be here as much as I can until she arrives.”

And after. I refused to let him go through this alone.

“Are you ready to go to him?” the nurse asked softly, and I nodded.

She turned and I followed her down the corridor to a private room. She knocked gently on the door then said, “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, please come and get me.”

“Thanks.” I offered her a weak smile before opening the door. My hands were shaking as I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me.

My eyes fell on Ash.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

I saw his body stiffen as he registered a presence, but he wouldn’t have been able to recognise my voice. I’d barely recognised it as the breathy words tumbled out.

Ash was lying on his back in the bed, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. He was hooked up to what I assumed and hoped were painkilling drugs. His right eye had a large, yellow bruise around it, and his lip was cut and his cheek swollen and scratched. I knew from what I’d been told that those weren’t the only injuries he had, and he had the pale complexion of someone who had been to hell and back.

I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes, but I couldn’t stop them spilling over. He was a pretty big guy, but right then, he seemed so small. So young. So damn vulnerable.

Slowly, I approached the bed and sat down. I knew he knew I was there but he didn’t look at me. I watched as his own eyes filled with tears and, very slowly, fell down his cheeks. Words I so desperately wanted to say to him got stuck in my throat, threatening to choke me.

As he began to sob, my own tears came faster, and as his body shuddered beneath the covers, I sat beside him. As gently as I could, I reached up to his swollen face and brushed a few of his tears away with my thumb.

“Don’t.” His hand moved to push me away and my heart clenched hard in my chest as he turned his head a

way from me. I knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want me there. He’d asked for me.

He was embarrassed. Humiliated.

Broken.