Lesson Learned✔

14

Christian

Aspen was quiet as I walked with her to the car, her hand loose in mine.

Something was wrong, I knew it. The way she avoided my eyes confirmed it, how she could only muster half smiles when I caught her gaze, it gave me more reason to be worried.

I didn't know what to think, was she sad? No that couldn't be it. Mad? Most likely, I had taken longer than I had told her. It wasn't on purpose that I had left her there for a little longer, I didn't even want to go to the hospital. But to let someone die? That wasn't why I became a doctor.

If Aspen was mad, I would have preferred to have her be upfront about it, not have her avoiding me. It made my heart race at the thought of her drifting, of her storing an anger towards me. She could yell at me, I'd take it. But silence? It was too much. I wanted her to talk to me, to tell me if she was mad or if something else bothered her.

The moment I had seen her I knew something was up, I knew her. I had spent countless hours getting to know who she was, to know that in the minutes I had been gone, something happened.

I knew her favorite colour was grey. At first I had thought it was because of my eyes and she had given those heart flipped smiles but she said no. She said grey was her favorite colour because it was vast and diverse. It was the mix of good and bad, the yin and yang.

I knew her favorite dessert and only sugary food was Ice Cream even in the cold, and knew that she danced horribly. Knew that her balance was off, was aware that she spent more time sitting outside than inside.

Over the year I had gotten to know her well, both body and mind. I could tell you all her likes and dislikes. I could tell you there was a small scar in her finger from cutting up vegetables one night. I could tell you that she had a small mole on the side of her left breast and another one on her inner thigh. There were more of course but those two were my favorites.

I knew what shampoo she used, knew she sprayed two pumps of perfume on her body. One on her inner wrist and another on her clothes, I knew she rubbed her wrist in her neck afterwards. Knew that she was a mix of sunlight and flowers, knew that she wore my shirts to sleep. That in the cold she walked around with my hoodies. I knew she hated driving in the cold, that she would rather much stay home in those times.

Aspen was easy to read, her eyes gave away many things. She wasn't shy, but she was scared to do many things. I was always soft with her, willing her to try new things for the sake of living. I knew she was smart, knew that even after spending twelve years in a Catholic school she understood and accepted the concept of evolution.

I knew her very damn well that it bothered me to see her like this. Angered me to see the lines in her eyes, see the struggle in them. She should have nothing to worry about, I'd take care of her. I'd take the pain for her, I wouldn't make her life easier but I'd be there every step of the way with her.

Stopping at the car, I walked to open her door. Aspen moved, getting ready to climb in but I didn't open it. Instead I gripped her chin between my fingers, forcing her to look at me. "What's wrong?"

Brown eyes widened, looking everywhere else except into me. There was a pulse inside of me, remembering words that had once been told to me. But I pushed them away, she was with me.

"What's wrong love?" I asked softly, moving closer to her. Dropping my hand from her chin, pressing her body to the car. I watched as she shook her head, her body tensing at the proximity. I didn't like it, she never froze near me. She always melted into my arms, her body a warm welcoming.

Frustration grew on me, dragging my mind into thoughts that I hated. I wouldn't yell at her, I wouldn't push her. But I needed her to look at me, to tell me at least something. To ease a little worry, to give me a reassurance that we would be fine.