“Don’t be.” She chuckles as she flips through her medical chart. “Are you ready?”
No.
“Sure.”
“Great. Lean back and place your feet in the stirrups,” she says as she walks over to the counter and grabs a pair of gloves.
Instead, I clamp my legs together and look around for Owen. I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to go home. I need to get out of here. I press my palms against my forehead and try to forget the time he strapped my ankles to the bedframe for days upon days, using me, leaving me in my own piss and his come trickling down the inside of my leg.
“Jolie,” Owen’s voice seeps into the fog of fear that’s suffocating me. Owen is the only one who has been able to penetrate it. I don’t know how he does it. I don’t know if he holds this magic that I don’t know about or what, but I’m thankful.
I’m thankful for the peace he gives me when I’m unable to find it myself.
“I can’t be here, Owen. I need to go,” I tell him, and the lights are suddenly too bright, stinging my eyes, blinding me. “I need to go.”
“Listen to me. Hey, look at me.” His hands cup my neck gently, and his thumbs land on the apples of my cheeks.
I take a few deep breaths and open my eyes, seeing his brows furrowed as he looks at me with concern, yet he smiles. “There you are.”
A tear drips out of the corner of my eye, and my lip wobbles. Why am I like this? Why can’t I be better? Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I love Owen the way he deserves instead of him waiting around for me?
“You’re okay,” he says to me. “You aren’t there with him. You’re here with me. Feel me,” he says, grabbing my hand and laying it on his chest. “You feel that? That heart? Jolie, it’s beating for the first time in twenty years, and you did that. Be here with me; don’t be there with him. I won’t hurt you here like he is there.” He taps the side of my head. “Be with me.”
I nod, and when he tries to let go of my hand, I grasp onto it harder. “Don’t let go.”
“I’m never going to let go of you.” Owen pulls up a chair next to the exam table and strokes my hand. I feel so damn pathetic. I have to be stronger for me, for Owen. I want to be the person I deserve, that he deserves, and what a friend deserves.
I want to be what I fucking deserve.
“Are we ready?” Doctor Pierce asks, settling between my legs. “We don’t have to do this. Maybe another time.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say, finally slowing down the panic raging inside me like a piston. “No stirrups, please?”
Her gaze softens in understanding, and shame and a bit of embarrassment hits my face. “Of course, just bend your knees and let them fall to the side, like a butterfly when they flap their wings.”
I do as she says and look away to Owen who is staring at me. I forgot how uncomfortable these exams are, and here I am, exposed to the damn world and vulnerable.
Again.
“Okay, you’re going to feel a bit of pressure,” Doctor Pierce warns just as those damn claws of freaking death are pushed inside me.
I try not to tense, to stop my body from pushing the specula out. “You’re doing good,” Owen says.
I chuckle from the odd confidence boost for something that’s so basic for a woman. “I’m a wreck.” I throw my arm over my eyes and wish I had decided for Owen to step outside.
Owen chuckles. “Heaven said something when our lawyer got drunk off one drink. I believe it went something like this, “Yeah, but he’s our wreck” so how about,” he pauses. “You can be my wreck.”
“You can’t say sweet things like that when I have my legs spread and getting my cervix scraped by a doctor.”
“Well, it wasn’t awkward until you said that,” Owen grumbles.
“You two are cute,” Doctor Pierce says from the space between my legs, and now it’s more awkward, especially when she peeks up over my … area. “I love seeing couples that are happy. Well, everything looks good here. There is some scarring, which is to be expected. It shouldn’t cause problems, but if it does, we will cross that bridge when we get there.”
“Scarring? Where? You said it shouldn’t cause problems, but you are expecting it to?” Owen asks. “Is pregnancy dangerous for her? Will she be in pain?”
“Owen, it’s okay. She said if. It’s okay. I’m just glad I’m alive is all.”
“I know, but … what if it’s worse than she says? Maybe we need to go to the best gynecologist on the East Coast. Maybe they will know more.”