Our Love Goes On and On

The After Shock

2 Weeks Later:

Anyone in this situation would be just as confused as I am.

Thankful to still be here, yet confused.

What happened next? Other than constantly being hassled by police and detectives, what was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to feel other than violated and broken?

My husband almost died. I almost lost the person I love the freaking most. Is this what it was supposed to feel like? Violated and broken?

Roman was able to come home after a week and a half in the hospital. He was quieter than usual, but I didn't mind because I wasn't all that talkative either.

Every five seconds I was peeking around a corner, and I couldn't stay anywhere by myself. Work was terrible because teachers were getting ready for school to start up again, always asking me what was wrong. I just wanted somewhere to escape.

"Babe, come here."

I shook my head and stayed at the edge of our bed, facing the TV. I was never a regular TV person, but now a days I could drown myself in a TV for days on end.

"Why not? I want my favorite person to lay with me."

He was instructed to lay down and stay in bed as much as possible, which obviously meant no work, and it was killing him. He was bored out of his mind.

"You got shot because of me, Roman, I'm not the right person for you to be laying with."

My eyes started to water. I ran to the door, but stopped myself before I could leave the room, checking to see if anyone was around the corner waiting on me.

It always took me about twenty minutes to get downstairs.

I finally got down there and rushed into the kitchen to get a knife from the drawer. I sat it down on the counter just in case I needed it.

I heard grunting. The kind of grunt Roman always made when he had to walk down the steps.

He was soon in the kitchen leaning on the cane his doctor told him to use.

He was shot in the upper right part of his stomach, barely missing a vein to his heart. He was a heavy guy, so carrying too much weight was bad for him, hence the cane.

"Will you stop running from me?" he made his way over to me in the kitchen, "Stop running, okay?"

"I'm scared." I admitted. "I'm scared out of my mind, Roman, and I don't know what to do."

"We were there together, right? I saw you get hurt and you saw me get hurt, right? We're in this together, babe, so stop running from me."

My lip quivered, "I want to hug you really bad."

Roman knew him touching me wasn't an option. I flinched or screamed whether I wanted to or not.

"Whenever you're ready, we can hug, okay?"

I nodded and went to the refrigerator to get some juice.

And the doorbell rang.

I dropped my cup full of juice and ran straight to the hall closet, hearing Roman saying, "No, no, babe."

Too late, I was already in the back corner of the closet with my knees to my chest.

"You're so pretty."

He threw me down onto the floor, making my back ache even more than it already did. He got down on his knees and straddled my stomach, grabbing my wrist and laying them above my head.