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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1, 1969
George was still sobering up from his intense drinking at the party just hours ago. He was way closer to being sober than he would have been any other day of the week, though. Bleak hospital rooms seemed to have a strange way of sobering you up.
Alexandria lay in a hospital bed, and he refused to look at her, not wanting to see her in such an awful state because he knew that it would bare all his heart. In a way, he blamed himself. Maybe, if he'd seen through her lies about being fine, he would have kept her home, he would have asked her about what she was feeling, and maybe this all could have been prevented.
George stopped pacing and collapsed in a chair, dropping his aching head into his hands and bouncing his leg up and down anxiously. His heart thumped in his chest, and he wished that someone would come in and tell him what in the hell was going on.
He shifted, crossing his legs and staring ahead at the door. A few moments later, he crossed his legs in the other direction.
And finally, he forced himself to look over at Alexandria. Something about her drew him over, and he stood, going over and pulling a chair behind him. He leaned over and studied her. She looked frail, ill, but she still looked peaceful. It was almost as if she was just sleeping off her illness. It was almost like she'd wake up soon, smiling like she always did whenever she felt good, refreshed.
No doctor had really explained what had happened to her yet, and maybe they didn't even know yet. George, in turn, hadn't been able to provide many details of what led to this. He told them only what he knew for sure. She'd felt off earlier in the day, but had assured him that she felt fine by the time they left for Eric's party. It wasn't until hours after they arrived that she approached him looking dazed. He told the doctors that she had just collapsed. He didn't know why, he had sworn.
He sat down in the chair he had pulled over to the side of the bed. His theory from earlier had been correct. Seeing her in that bed broke his heart. It made him nauseous. It made him more anxious than he'd ever felt in his entire life. He prayed that her eyes would open soon because he wouldn't feel better until he saw her awake again.
Then, a nurse entered the room, and his eyes flicked up. He could only imagine that he looked tired. He frowned. "You here to tell me what's happened?" he asked the woman, looking back over at Alexandria in the bed. The doctor didn't say anything, so he looked back up, feeling a bit frustrated. "That's a no, then?" he asked. "Am I ever going to find out why y bloody wife is knocked out cold?" He leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.
"We know the reason, Mr. Harrison. We just think it's best if your wife is awake to hear it with you."
George narrowed his eyes. "Well, she's not," he said. "So, can't you just tell me?"
