Beneath the scars

Chapter 2

Asia’s pov

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the hospital smell and unfamiliar walls.

The movement caught the attention of a nurse standing near the doorway. She immediately walked over, her expression softening the moment she realized I was awake.

"Mrs. Fletcher, you're awake."

I stared at her.

"My baby." I asked ,my voice sounded weak and unrecognizable even to me.

The nurse's smile disappeared and just like that, every remaining piece of hope inside me shattered.

People always say mothers have instincts. I never understood that phrase before. I understood it then. Nobody had answered my question, but I already knew the answer. It was written all over her face.

"My baby," I repeated once more.

This time my voice cracked.The nurse pulled a chair closer to the bed and gently sat down beside me.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Fletcher."

I stared at her and then I stared at the blanket covering my legs.

The strange thing was that I didn't cry immediately. Maybe because my mind couldn't process it but I simply sat there staring at the blanket while the nurse continued talking softly.

I don't know how long I sat there before tears finally came. And when they did, they wouldn't stop.

I cried until my chest hurt.

I cried until I physically couldn't cry anymore.Then I lay there staring at the ceiling again because there was nothing else left to do.

The doctor came later that day.

He explained everything more carefully than the nurse had. Apparently the bullet hadn't hit my heart, which was why I was still alive. Another few centimeters and things would have ended very differently. They had managed to stop the bleeding and stabilize me after surgery.

I listened quietly.After he left, I turned my face toward the window and cried again.

The first person who came to see me the next morning was Rachel my best friend from childhood. The moment she stepped into the room, I almost started crying all over again.

Rachel looked awful.Her hair was a mess and her eyes were red.She looked like somebody who hadn't slept properly in days.

The second she reached my bedside, she grabbed my hand so tightly that it almost hurt.

"Don't do that again."

I blinked.

"What?"

"Getting shot."

A weak laugh escaped me before I could stop it.It was the first time I had laughed since waking up.

Rachel immediately burst into tears while holding me so tightly in her embrace.

“I was so scared…Asia”.

I had nothing to say at the moment,I just looked up at her and held her so tightly because this was the closest I had been to someone who cared.

Over the next few days, she barely left the hospital.

If she wasn't in my room, she was arguing with doctors, bringing me food I wasn't eating, or answering work calls outside.

She became the person handling everything because I couldn't bring myself to care about anything.

A few days later, Grandma Fletcher arrived.she spent some time always checking up on me.

The one person who wasn't there was my husband.

"Has Kelvin called?" I asked.

Rachel went silent for a while but eventually she sighed.

"The hospital reached him the night you were admitted."

I nodded slowly.

"And?"

Rachel looked away.

"He said he was busy."

I stared at her.

For some reason, that hurt more than I expected.

Not because I was surprised.

Because I wasn't.

The worst part was that I could actually hear him saying it.

I could hear the distracted tone.

The impatience.

The assumption that whatever was happening could wait.

"He said he'd check later."

A bitter smile appeared on my face.

"He never did…did he”.

Rachel didn't answer.

Two weeks passed before the doctors finally discharged me.

By then, my body had started healing.

The morning I left the hospital, Rachel handled my paperwork while Grandma made sure I actually ate breakfast. Between the two of them, I wasn't allowed to skip meals, ignore medication, or pretend I was fine.

Rachel gently squeezed my shoulder.

"You ready?"

I looked toward the parking lot”No," I admitted honestly.

Then I picked up my bag anyway because whether I was ready or not it didn't matter.So I followed Rachel toward the car.