Somewhere in His Arms (28 page)

             
Her eyes widened at the walk-in shower and huge freestanding tub. The bathroom was a study in minimal elegance with pale green walls and ivory trims. A large pedestal sink stood in one corner with an oval antiqued mirror above it, and several wicker baskets held various assortments of towels and luxury bath items. There was a spa-like tranquility to it, and Lucy could hardly wait to have a real shower. The one at the hospital had been serviceable but inadequate for her need to enjoy the experience.

             
“Sit, love,” her husband said, gesturing towards the small bench near the sink.

             
She sat down and hung her head, thoroughly spent for the day and feeling a peculiar ache in the small of her back. The doctor had told her it could take up to a year before she was back to her old self, but he’d been blunt in his assessment, and told her she’d carry these wounds for the rest of her life.

             
Alec knelt down before his wife frightened she’d tried to do too much. He reached and touched her cheek gently. “You don’t have to do this tonight, love. You can take one in the morning.”

             
Lucy shook her head. “No, I want to wash my hair and the warm water will help my back,” she grimaced slightly. “It’s been hurting all day.”

             
“You’re sure?” he asked, looking up at her with uncertainty in those jewel-like eyes. After a moment, he stood up and walked over to the shower. “Shower or bath?”

             
“Um…a shower…” she said faintly, glancing down at herself, “the…um …stitches are still healing.” Lucy reached down to pull her stockings off and shimmied out of the slip as well. “Help me with the dress,” she pleaded and raised her arms painfully.

             
She winced as Alec gently tugged the dress over her head. Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to cry. There was a large bandage that would have to be removed and she didn’t know if she could bring herself to do it. She looked up at her husband helplessly and pointed to her chest. “The…bandage…”

             
“Hush,” he soothed and helped her to stand. Alec’s throat tightened as he pulled the shower door open and reached for the knob. He let the water run for a few minutes to allow the water to warm up. Then he rolled up his sleeve and tested it. Just right. He turned towards his wife who by now, was diminishing before his very eyes. She hung her head and had her arms crossed protectively over her chest. “Don’t,” he whispered and reached for her.

             
Lucy pulled away. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to touch her, but this was something she had to do herself. “I-It’s all right,” she told him, and forced herself to look up at him. “I’ve got to do this...” she took a deep breath, “by myself.”

             
Alec understood. Or at least he was trying to. He just didn’t want her to think she had to do this all by herself.  He was here for her and he wanted her to know that. “You’re sure?”

             
Lucy nodded. “Just help me with this corset,” she quipped with a humor she didn’t feel.

             
To her relief, he said huskily, “Turn around, wife.”

             
She turned around and felt his gentle hands unhooking the bra. Then she felt his lips on her shoulder. “Call me when you’re ready to wash your hair. I’ll be right outside.”

             
“Okay,” she said faintly and watched as he left, leaving a crack in the door.

             
She breathed a sigh of relief and allowed the bra to fall to the floor. She reached and tugged the panties off and stepped out of them, wincing at the effort it took to remove her underwear. Then she reached and with a slight cry of pain, removed the huge bandage that covered the incision where they’d sliced her open. Lucy flung it aside angrily and stepped into the shower.

             
The water was warm and gentle, soothing away the aches and pains of the past few days. She was careful to let the water rinse her stitches but not soak them entirely. There were a various assortment of scented bath gels and soaps. She chose one and allowed the sweet aroma of patchouli send her to a tropical island and away from the fact that she had nearly died at the hands of a madman.

             
Lucy squeezed some out onto a sponge and soaped up her body the best she could, wincing as she reached up to wash her face and neck. When she knelt down to scrub her feet, she noticed something strange. There was a dark liquid mingling with the sudsy water. She watched almost as if in a dream as the water took on a pinkish hue, then her eyes widened as it became crimson. She was bleeding.

             
For a frightening moment, Lucy thought one of her incisions had breached open. Panicking, she felt all over and found nothing. Then she glanced down and felt it deep inside. It was a familiar clenching of her womb.

             
She had started her period.

             
Her hands slid down over her flat belly, and she let out a howl of pure and utter anguish. The baby was gone, and her body was just now cruelly reminding her of this simple fact. Lucy slid down to the tile floor and began sobbing.

             
She could not stop.

             
Alec was removing his trainers and had set them aside, when he heard his wife scream. It was unlike anything he’d ever heard in all his twenty-eight years on earth. It was almost an inhuman cry of pain and loss, and he jumped up and tore into the bathroom.

             
He flung the door open, adrenaline flooding his veins, and looked around in a panic.
“Lucy?”

             
Walking slowly through steam and fogged up mirrors, he went to the shower and nearly ripped the glass door off its hinges. For a frightening moment he couldn’t see her and then he looked down. There, huddled in a near fetal position near the drain, sat his wife. She was weeping pitifully as she hugged her knees to her chest. There was a dark puddle under her and he thought she might have cut herself with a razor. “Lucy--”

             
Lucy looked up at her husband, tears and water streaming down her face. “I-I…s-started…m-m-my…p-period,” she gulped tearfully and began to cry even harder.

             
“God, love,”
he choked in agony and knelt down in the shower beside her. She reached for him and he pulled her onto his lap and rocked her gently. “It’s all right, love,” he soothed, his voice cracking. He was getting wet, but he didn’t care. Her entire body shook with sobs, and he was on the verge himself. He smoothed the wet strands away from her face. “We’ll have a whole bloody lot of them,” he swore fiercely and kissed her brow. “We’ll have so many, they’ll be pouring out of the goddamn windows!”

             
“P-Promise?” she whispered hoarsely and peered up at him.

             
Alec kissed her brow once more and continued rocking her. “I promise! There, now,” he managed through a throat thick with unshed tears. “Don’t cry,” he said again, knowing deep down, that she had to.

             
“You can cry too, Alec,” she croaked. “Please cry.”

             
“You’re doing enough crying for the both of us,” he told her, swallowing hard and clasping her tightly to him. “I’ll cry later.”

             
I’ll cry later
, he promised himself
. Much later.

Chapter Eighteen

She stood in the middle of the bedroom in a daze, not quite sure as to what she was supposed to do. Then she remembered. Pajamas. She rummaged around in the suitcase that Tia had packed for her. There were the usual clothing items of jeans, t-shirts, socks, and several pairs of underwear. But Tia had apparently forgotten to pack her favorite nightgown. “They’re not here,” she mumbled in confusion and turned to her husband. “She forgot.”

              “What’s that, love?”

             
“Tia forgot to pack my nightgowns.”

             
Alec’s handsome brow furrowed slightly and went over to the suitcase and inspected it himself. “Are you sure?”

             
Lucy nodded and glanced down, wincing as another cramp twisted its way through her womb. “I can sleep in my robe,” she sighed.

             
He opened his mouth to say something, but a thought suddenly occurred to him.               “Wait here,” he said and left the room.

             
Alec hurried to his room just down the hall. It was small but adequate. He yanked out his duffle and tore through it, searching for something suitable for his wife to sleep in. When he discovered the items at the bottom of the bag, he was about to leave when he spied the bottle on the nightstand. He snatched it up and left.

             
He held out his old pajamas for her inspection. “Try these.”

             
She reached out and took the pajamas, but stopped short. “Wait a minute!” she looked up at him in surprise. “These are the ones you were wearing that day!”

             
Her husband grinned knowingly. “They’re
very
comfortable.”

             
“I couldn’t,” she said and started to hand them back.

             
“Don’t,” Alec said softly, and knelt down before her. “I want you to wear them.”

             
Her fingers stroked the soft cotton lovingly. “You’re… sure?”

             
Alec nodded and reached for the top. “Here, let me help you put these on.”

             
Lucy rose and allowed her husband to remove the robe and help her on with the pajama top. He held the bottoms for her to step in and pulled them up. They swallowed her whole. “They’re too big!” she cried in dismay.

             
Her husband couldn’t resist laughing at the way his pajamas hung from her slight frame. She looked like a child wearing her father’s clothes. Alec kissed her nose lightly and began rolling the bottoms and sleeves up. “It’s not that they’re big, love,” he grinned down at her. “It’s just that you’re so small!”

             
“Am I?” she said faintly and sat back down on the bed. At least Tia hadn’t forgotten the most needed item in her war chest: tampons. Lucy had been very lucky the hospital had included the extra-heavy pads they usually gave to new mothers. In
her
case, tampons weren’t going to cut it. She winced again.
“Ow!”

             
“That bad, huh?”

             
“It’ll pass,” she grimaced, trying to be brave.

             
Her husband peered down at her thoughtfully before leaving again. He came back with a glass of water. “Here, love,” he said and held out two small blue tablets. “Take one.”

             
Her eyes widened.
“Valium!
Where did you get
that?
Dr. Muir didn’t prescribe that!”

             
“I-I know, love,” Alec said quietly. “They’re…um…mine.”

             
“Yours…?”

             
He nodded and held her gaze with his own. He sat down beside her. “I hardly take them, only when…” he paused and drew a deep ragged breath, “the nightmares get to be too much.”

             
“Nightmares? I thought--”

             
Alec laughed uneasily. “It’s a long story, love. I don’t think you’re quite strong enough to hear it just yet.”

             
“I want to,” she breathed and looked up at him. The pain in his voice was palpable. “You can tell me
anything.
You know that!”

             
“Yes, I-I know,” he said, softly brushing the damp locks away from her small face. After he’d calmed her down, he’d cleaned her up the best he could. He’d washed and rinsed her hair and towel-dried it for her. All the while she hadn’t said a word… in effect, giving up the fight. He’d felt as if he were bathing a doll. He reached down to where her hand rested on her thigh. Alec picked it up gently and turned it over. Kissing the long-faded scar on her wrist, he said, “When you’re ready to tell me about this, I’ll tell you all about my little adventures.”