The Anatomy of a Broken Heart //Completed//

91. Santana

I wasn't good at being a girl. Not the kind of girl boys like. The kind that blushes at the right moment and looks down making boys smile secretly at them because, fuck, that was cute. The kind that is loud and fun and carefree about everything except the things that matter. Wild but tame. Who even knows what that means? The kind of girl guys daydream about. The one who makes their heart flutter when they spot them down the hall without having had to look for them. The right girl.

So when Jasper took me, the wrong girl, and decided I was the right girl for him, I never let myself believe I could ever have it better than that. I was chosen, among all the others who I knew envied me behind their sneers. So to wake up and realize that all that I had is gone, truly and permanently, had always been gone even if I had refused to accept it, felt like waking up at the bottom of an ocean. The crushing realization was painful, but more than that, it was overwhelming. I couldn't wrap my head around the truth and how absolutely stupid I had been for far too long. I'd pushed everyone away with my stubbornness and had caused more pain than one person should be allowed.

My father slept on the chair next to me and my sister on the small couch, not daring to leave my side because they were afraid. Of what, I wasn't really sure, but if I left their sight, they thought I'd disappear.

They weren't wrong.

It took great effort and stabbing pains throughout my whole body, but slowly, I managed to sit up and then climb off the bed, after disconnecting myself from all of my tubing. The floor was freezing even through the fluffy yellow socks the nurse had given me, but I crept onward nonetheless. The thin gown did little to shield me from the chill in the building and I was very aware of my semi-naked body as I stepped out into the hallway, careful not to let the door make a sound behind me.

There were only a few night staff around and none of them seemed to notice me walking down the hall, peeking into different rooms before I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was going. Dejected, I turned back to go to my room when I came face to face with Dr. Rosethorn.

"Miss Valencia, what are you doing out of your room?" He asked in a furious whisper.

"Uh...I was...looking for a restroom?" I knew it wasn't convincing, but I was going to stick with my story.

"There's a perfectly good restroom in your room."

"It was busy."

"You should have waited."

"Emergency."

Dr. Rosethorn chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few seconds, deciding whether or not to believe me, I assumed. He chose the latter.

"Mr. Heslin is not in a recovery room. He is still in the ICU, being guarded by a policeman, I might add."

My eyes widened. How could he have known?

"And I suggest, for your sake, that you stay as far away from him as possible."

"I will. But I need to talk to him first."

"Miss Valencia, you are not my daughter and therefore I cannot prohibit you from doing anything. But I can strongly advise you not to come within a mile of a boy like Jasper Heslin."

"I know, but Dr. R, you don't understand. I need to know what happened that night."

"Santana," the doctor said, putting a hand on my shoulder. His eyes softened and his voice became less cutting. "Your father is my friend, and I know he would never forgive me if I let you go any farther from your room. He's not the only one, either. And as your doctor, I recommend bedrest until you've made a full recovery, and that means..." his hand tightened on my shoulder slightly and he steered me towards the other side of the hall... "you have to go back." I let him take me back, more surprised by his fatherly concern and admission of friendship with my father. I had never thought of them as friends, especially with the way he had behaved towards me, but I guessed his kindness had to do with the default pity doctors feel for their patients.