Forever Mine (Joe & Ella 2)

“I know we aren’t going to be able to just shake this off right away, and when we get home I think it would be a good idea for us to have some counselling to get over this, me especially, but Joe please promise me one thing…”

“Anything, you know that.”

“Don’t let this come between us. Please.”

He stood up and lent over me now, stroking my hair with one hand and brushing over my swollen sore cheek with the other.

“Nothing could or would ever come between us Ella. I’d die before I’d let that happen. You are everything to me. I love you.” He stood looking in my eyes then announced, “I know your bruises and the swelling on your face needs to settle but the doctors tell me that should be sorted within six weeks, so its six weeks this Saturday Ella, Six weeks until our wedding day and I’m not waiting a day later.”

He gave me the gentlest kiss on my cracked split lip then on my forehead.

“I can’t wait until I can kiss you properly. I’ll miss that the most, that and all the other stuff too.” I gave a shy grin and he grinned back at me.

“It won’t be long before we’re back to normal. I’ll make sure of it.”

Joe didn’t leave my side that day other than to take quick bathroom breaks. He said that I’d had visitors; Max, Chris, Robyn and Sam to name a few. Even Kim had come blubbering into the waiting room apparently but soon perked up when she saw Sam there. They went off for a coffee together and I kinda hoped it was the beginning of something exciting for them. Maybe some good could come out of this after all. Joe had been keeping in constant contact with my Nan who was on her way down with Simon and his girlfriend but I spoke to her on the phone to put her mind at rest and asked her to wait until the next day to visit. I only wanted to have Joe with me today, no one else.

When Joe was in the room with me he lay next to me, as best he could on the terrible hospital beds, and we chatted about our future, our little baby and all the things we wanted to do together in our lives. We talked about baby names; his were surprisingly very traditional and mine were more trendy, quirky names. We eventually settled on a happy medium for both a boy’s and a girl’s name but we weren’t going to tell anyone else what they were, that would be our secret.

Eventually as the day wore on and the stream of doctors and nurses coming in grew less and less, we settled into a comfortable silence holding each other and feeling at peace. I felt Joe’s breathing grow slower and deeper and I knew he’d fallen asleep next to me, his arms wrapped protectively around me. The older nurse who had been on shift when I woke the first night came and in and smiled then shook her head.

“He’s not allowed on the bed I’m afraid, hospital policy.”

I gave her my most sincere pleading eyes, “Please don’t make me move him, he needs the rest and he makes me feel safe being here.”

She took my temperature and blood pressure carefully without disturbing Joe, then adjusted some things on the drip and noted her findings down on the chart at the end of my bed.

“I didn’t see a thing.” She grinned and before shutting the door she spoke again over her shoulder. “You should get a little privacy for a better sleep tonight. Someone will come to check your blood pressure and temperature in the morning okay sweetheart?”

I nodded, grateful that she was telling me this so I too could relax for the rest of the night and sleep peacefully in Joe’s arms.

The next day was exhausting, a sea of visitors came from eleven in the morning and didn’t stop until visiting hours stopped at eight in the evening. I was glad I’d had the time alone with Joe to help me cope with the onslaught of constant questions, fussing and chatter. My Nan was first scaring the nurses half to death and shamelessly flirty with the doctor on duty. She told me she’d popped into the children’s ward before coming to see me to cheer the poor kiddies up. She’d taken a huge bag of dolly mixture sweets in with her and couldn’t understand why the nurses made such a fuss about her dolling them out to the kids with ‘nil by mouth’ above their beds. My Nan was a law unto herself. I tried to explain what nil by mouth meant and why but all she could say was, “Poor mites are cooped up in here all day what harm will it do them having a little bit of sugar to brighten their day?” I couldn’t argue with that, and I didn’t want to.

Chris and Robyn were next, Chris was crying and saying sorry every two minutes whilst Robyn told him to zip it, he wasn’t helping anyone with his pity party. I squeezed his hand and told him I would never blame him for anything. He couldn’t believe everything he’d heard about ‘him’; I couldn’t bring myself to say his name, either name, and I told them both as much. We promised to bury the psycho freak in the depths of our brains never to be mentioned again. I knew that couldn’t be the case for me as I’d need to talk about it to get over it, but I didn’t need my two best friends being swamped by his evil too. Chris seemed placated by this and we moved on to looking at Robyn’s mobile phone photos and selfies of her and Mike’s most recent date to a wax works dungeon. Great, just what I needed pictures of people holding knives, with plenty of blood and gore, but I didn’t say anything. I felt relieved that they hadn’t treated me differently to any other day, and I couldn’t help but notice how truly happy they both looked in the pictures. Even when they both had their heads in his and hers guillotines, as two actors dressed as the executioners held massive scythes over their heads growling into the camera for effect. They were made for each other.

When Simon came in it actually felt good to see an old friend, and one who knew all the medical jargon and could explain it to me. He picked up my chart before kissing me hello and said he was satisfied with my ‘stats’, they looked good apparently and I should be discharged soon. He explained my injuries and what could have happened had the leg wounds been any higher up my thighs, the thought was inconceivable. Then he announced that Rebecca had come with him and Nan to visit, but he wouldn’t bring her in, it wasn’t fair on me for my first introduction to Rebecca to be in a hospital bed. I marvelled at how thoughtful that was, most men didn’t think that way, but Simon just got it. He was such a good doctor and friend. We arranged to meet up as a foursome for dinner or drinks when I was better and he left to track down my doctor to quiz him on my medication and discharge date.

Max was the final visitor of the day, he sat with me for ages and shared his thoughts. I would always have a soft spot for Max, and I wished he could find a girl to make him happy. He told me he loved me again but straight away put his hand up and said he wasn’t saying it to cause trouble, he just needed me to know. He was over the moon about the baby and couldn’t wait to be best man at our wedding. If he couldn’t have me he said he’d let Joe take his place. When Joe walked in an hour later after rushing home in record time to take a shower, Max stood and patted him on the back, kissed my forehead and left us for the night.

I just wanted to be better now and get on with the rest of my life. I wanted to be home planning the wedding, shopping for dresses and all that fun girlie stuff. I wanted quiet nights in cuddling my man and getting reacquainted in the best way, and I wanted to be Ella again. Not Ella the victim, just Ella. A little bit clumsy and a whole lot scatty but not scared of anything…well apart from heights, geese and escalators. I decided then and there I’d do everything the doctors told me to get better and work hard so we could move forward and put this nightmare behind us. The man who could not be named didn’t deserve to take up any more of our time in our relationship.

44

Four weeks later…

The swelling and bruising in my face had gone down considerably. I was now a pale shade of yellow and brown as opposed to angry purples. I looked more like me in the mirror which was good because I feared I’d scare small children every time I built up the courage to step outside. Hmm…stepping outside, that became somewhat of an issue at first. When I was discharged from the hospital after showing them I could shuffle down the corridor and tentatively climb six steps, I thought I’d slip straight back into

my life. Maybe with a few neurosis, but everything would be more or less as it was. How wrong I was.

I found myself wanting to be isolated. I only wanted Joe, and he felt the same about me. We put people off, when they asked if they could visit. If they showed up unannounced we either didn’t answer the door or gave them a quick cuppa then packed them off on their way. All I wanted was to be in our bubble in the apartment. Joe and Ella, no one else is welcome. I told him so one night as we cuddled on the sofa watching Netflix. He said he felt exactly the same and he didn’t see what was wrong with it. If we had to venture out for food or something from the shops we stuck together like glue. He was as essential to my survival in those early days as oxygen, food and water. I knew it wasn’t healthy though, so I told Joe I needed to see a counsellor and asked if he’d find the best one and come with me.

Of course he came with me, that was non-negotiable, but after the first few visits the counsellor recognised our separation anxiety and set us small challenges to try out each day. These included Joe going for a walk around the block and leaving me alone in the apartment, showing him and me that nothing terrible would happen to the other one if we were apart. Then we built up to me meeting a friend outside the building and going for coffee. Sounds easy right? Wrong, I burnt my tongue trying to gulp down a scolding hot latte so I could get back to Joe and I had no idea what Robyn and I talked about. I don’t think I actually talked at all. However, we kept up with the exercises and eventually it got easier to invite our friends and loved ones back into our lives. Joe and I would always have an extra close unexplainable attachment to each other, but we began to learn how to manage that with others around us.

My biggest fear following the attack was getting into a parked car. I found I had to climb into a car whilst I faced outwards, in other words I had to be able to see behind me and back myself into the seat. The fear of being attacked from behind would take a lot longer to overcome. Yet the counselling helped with that too. It’s amazing what talk therapy can do.

That wasn’t Joe’s biggest fear though, his was a tough one for me to accept when I felt stronger. He was scared to have sex with me. Yes, the man who was quite possibly the most sexual being I’d ever met had gone off sex completely. Whether it was just sex with me or sex altogether I dreaded to think. I was like a china doll to him, breakable, delicate and fragile. I hated it.

Once I felt slightly better and ready to try he’d push me away telling me I wasn’t ready and he didn’t want to hurt me. We’d do other stuff but it just wasn’t the same, I wanted the intimacy and I missed the rough, dominating Joe who wasn’t afraid to throw me around the bedroom, or any room for that matter. So I told my counsellor as much during one of our one to one chats. She suggested a joint appointment to discuss it, which we did and it helped us both for Joe to offload how afraid he was of hurting me, of being too rough and possibly evoking flash backs in me, not to mention my scarring was still tender. I had no idea he had so much worry going on in his head.