The room soon fills with people, the lights are too bright and Rome doesn't come back to bed, he doesn't hold me the way I need him to.
He's telling yet another cop the events of the evening for the tenth time, we both get it, but it's clearly starting to frustrate him. I watch him speak, I watch him run his hand through his hair.
His hair is so soft, I should really peek at what conditioner he uses.
"Lucy?" A female voice intrudes on my denial. "Lucy? I'm doctor Shaw, I'm here to make sure you're okay. I need to carry out a physical exam, is that alright?" She uses a tone of voice I recognise, it's one I use when my patient is exhibiting flight or fight symptoms.
"No, it's not alright" I whisper and Rome snaps his head to me like my voice has called him directly.
He stands and walks back to his bed and his broken girlfriend.
"I promise it won't hurt, I'll make all these people leave the room. It will be just the two of us"
"No" I shake my head.
"We need to complete a rape kit, I need to get an account of your injuries" she presses using both authority and compassion.
She's good.
"Luce? Sweetheart you need treatment" Rome sits with his thigh to my hip, just like the old days.
"I already have a doctor" I mumble looking at no one but Myles dead and lifeless on the floor.
The forensic team pick the gun up and examine it, one photographs while the other checks the safety, then opens the chamber.
It was loaded and ready to fire.
Another tear falls to my cheek and hastily I wipe it away, conflicting thoughts war inside my head. A small voice tells me I would have preferred it to have gone off over what he did.
They zip close the body bag and lift him on a stretcher, they take Myles away and I contemplate the thought of never seeing him again, a part of me has trouble reconciling the Myles here tonight with the Myles I shared a bed with.
"Sweetheart, look at me" Rome gently turns my chin with his hand, I place one of my own over his to keep him here, touching me. "We need to make sure you're okay, but this exam is for the investigation that will follow. I cannot examine you as a non biased party, it will be dismissed as a conflict of interest" he explains carefully.
"Not if I supervise and oversee, not if I write up the report. Legally Lucy can decide on her own doctor, but I must remain present at all times" Dr Shaw corrects him.
"Please, Rome...." I whisper.
He looks like he might refuse but he nods his head just once, his jaw hardens.
Shame fills and drowns me as I realise he doesn't want to see, he doesn't want to touch me down there. My lip trembles but I hold back the hurt it brings.
I let his hand go. I lay back and stare only at the coffered ceiling Rome restored, it's fine.... He was meant for more than me anyway.
He's a lord and after tonight, I'd never be classed a lady.
I don't look but I know everyone is leaving the room, even Rome. I think I hear Valentina's voice outside the door before it closes.
"I can offer you pain relief, a sedative to make this more comfortable for you" Dr Shaw comments as she sets up her things.
"All of it" I nod and wipe another tear from my face.
"Would it be alright if I collect bloods for toxicology before we get them into you?" She asks friendly.
I hold out one arm but I don't reply, it's not like I have a choice.
I don't even flinch at the sting.
"Have you known Dr. Knight long?" The doctor asks to break the silence and gain my trust with a sense of common interest.
"A few years" I answer noncommittally.
"He seems quite attached to you, is this more than casual dating?" She smiles like we're old friends catching up.
"Rome is my soul, what we had was everything" I sniffle.
"Had? Trouble in paradise?" She raises her brows with surprise.
"I'm pretty sure this equates to trouble in anyones book" I look away from her, nonverbally ending the subject.
"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself? What is it you do, Lucy?"
"My name is Dr Swancott, I'm a psychiatrist. I help people navigate mental illness" I mumble.
"Oh" she smiles as she collects my blood in small tubes.
"Yeah" I nod.
"Navigate, not overcome?" She thinks while she tapes a cotton ball to my inner elbow crease.
"The human brain is complex, my personal belief is that once aquired or diagnosed, mental illness is there for life. Therapy and medication help keep it under control, but I like to think that my patients benefit from learning tools to live along side their mental illness, not try to compete with it. The end goal is to accept the condition, like you would an amputation or diabetes" I shrug without the usual level of conviction I'd normally have.
"And you've had positive feedback?" She asks like she's genuinely interested.
"I have" I mumble as Rome re-enters the room.
