The doctor was right that day in the hospital. There were no repercussions to my attack. It has been three weeks, and I haven’t even seen or heard from another officer since that day. I have been coping. I went back to work this week, which, according to my therapist, is a huge step in my recovery. The day that it happened, I pushed Lana away. I believed that I needed to get through this on my own, but by happenstance I ran into Jane. Somehow, she has become important in my life. She could not bear to let me go through this alone.
We may have never met before that day, but she understands me like no one has before. She suggested that I see a therapist when I was unable to leave my house for three days after the incident. Now I am on a path to being able to deal with the pain. I eventually did call my family, and although they wanted to come stay, I insisted they stay away. They agreed, but only after my Mom insisted on giving me some of MomMom Anna’s inheritance after she passed away last year. She told me, “Pain is stress enough without having to worry about surviving. Besides, you know your MomMom’s story. We have plenty of money to help.” Of course she was right, about all of it.
The physical pain has long since healed, and somehow having Jane in my life has made it easier to cope with the emotional stressors. She has been unbelievably patient with my triggers. She has stayed with me since the day we met. She told me after a while that she was only treating me the way she would hope someone would treat her in the same predicament. “Doesn’t hurt that I like you so much,” she also tells me.
“Hey,” she calls to me as I walk in the front door of my apartment, “how was work today?”
She has asked me that every day this week since going back to work. “Boring and mundane. Just the way I like it,” I respond. “I have had enough excitement for a lifetime.”
“Oh Eeyore,” she says as she walks over to greet me. “Don’t talk like that. I expect to have a long life of excitement with you. Maybe starting with tonight?” Winking at me.
I blush with both embarrassment and shame. “I’m sorry Jane. You have been so patient with me.”
“I’ve tried to tell you how you make me feel. Now I want to show you how I feel. You are missing my best features,” she says with a sly smile. “I’m sorry. I am not trying to pressure you,” she continues after a few moments of silence from me. “It probably doesn’t matter anyway. I am starting to feel my bubbly attitude fade, and I am a little sore. I will probably be menstruating before bedtime. Here I am rambling again. It is one of my more annoying qualities. I just…I’m trying to say…Abby, I love you.” The silence stretches for what seems like days.
“I can’t believe I just said that. After everything you have been through. Love may be hard to grasp right now. Let’s just forget about what I said. We can take this as slow as you need. I really care for you. The words just came out. You know I talk too much.”
“Jane,” I interrupt before she can continue to ramble, “I think I might be pregnant.”
To be continued…