We Made It |L.T|

Chapter Sixteen

September 3rd

As Louis promised, I rested for the remainder of the day yesterday. While I was in the hospital, I could gaze outside and observe the passing of time. Given that Louis was by my side the entire time, it wasn't as horrible. Even following the doctor's discreet explanation. That because of my hemorrhaging they were forced to remove my entire uterus. Which embarrassed and left me feeling vacant. They warned that having the procedure might affect my ability to have sexual intimacy, but it would also make my mood swings worse. They also told me not to check for my menstrual cycle because nothing could happen without my uterus. 

I was numbly sitting on Louis' lap now, staring out the window. Attempting to ignore the reality that I was unable to conceive or bear my own child. That even in the event that Louis and I stay together. With the apparent exception of Freddie, I would never give him another child that he deserves. Because, like Briana or not, he was still very much Louis' son. I felt much more worthless and insignificant in this world than I did at birth. Who would want a woman who is incapable of bearing him a child?

The damp hair that clung to my cheek was brushed away by Louis, who held me in his arms like though I were a young child. His eyes met mine while I fiddled with the hem of his green Nike jumper around his neck. As Louis's finger tips traveled down my nose, they traced my eyebrows. Making me cross-eyed as I fixate on his index finger.

As his finger playfully pinched my ear lobe, it moved from my lips to my jaw, giving me a kind but deeply sad smile. For the thousandth time since I woke up, I studied his lifeless, dull eyes with my gaze. He appeared puzzled and worried, as though he hadn't realized he was seated in a chair, cradling a woman with mental health issues. I didn't realize I needed to grab hold of it until his finger started to slide down my neck. He looked straight into my eyes, as if trying to shake off his trance, like recognizing something. Withdrawing his hand, he drew me in closer to his chest.

My small fingers tugged at his button lip, and Louis instinctively tucked them under his hand as he put my hand against his chest, feeling the rhythmic patterns of his heartbeat. His anxiety and emotional state were gradually taking control of him. I tried to draw my hand away, but Louis, who was watching out the window, did not appear to notice my struggle.

I looked out the window for a while then. It was the only reason I had for initially sitting on Louis' lap. Because he did not want me to sit and risk causing pain to my healing stitches when I moved around. I've had enough of Louis babying me, though, so I wouldn't admit that to anybody. The knowledge that someone cared was comforting, to be sure, but I also felt confined. I was staring at the parking lot, my thoughts long since gone, watching as cars slowly started to pull out as new ones arrived.

I could feel Louis' stare on me as I sat quietly, snuggling up to him. He didn't say anything till I looked up at him. "What was the baby's name?" Louis thought about the subject as if the name meant his life and asked abruptly. It was a mistake of mine to view such a terrible vision of myself, but my eyes did not meet his as I glanced out the window blankly looking at nothing except my reflection. I talked after finding my trust and thinking about the name I gave the angel baby.

"Hope." I repeated the same recollections in the same manner, my voice faltering as I thought back to the night she was born. I was never able to forget, no matter how hard I tried. I detested thinking about her begging screams for her mother, and my heart fell. However, she was torn from me more quickly than she was delivered. Her screams are still audible to me; they torment me in my dreams every night. I carried a huge burden in my heart and soul from having betrayed the wonderful child.  

"It's a beautiful name." He murmured softly, pressing a feathered kiss on my forehead. He gently brushed my cheek with his hand as he rubbed his cheek against mine. His hand fiddling with the paper-like material of my hospital gown caused my eye to well up with new tears.