216 Hours | #LoveinTragedy

third month

98 days.

2,352 hours.

141,120 minutes.

8,467,200 seconds.

The smell of disinfectant had been ingrained in the walls, the stench hit me the second I walked through the door. I had become too familiar with the sterile floors and bleached bedding. Everything about the place was too clean for comfort, almost as if they were always prepared to whisk someone away if the worst case scenario was to occur.

The pitiful looks and sad smiles cast in my direction had become a normality, I no longer was annoyed by it, I was accustomed to it.

I walked down endless corridors, I had taken more times than anyone should take in their lifetime.

I saw nurses and doctors frantically rushing in and out of his room. Oh, god. I sprinted the last couple of metres and braced myself for the worst. For the nurse to offer my her condolences and for the doctors to give me sympathetic smiles.

"Hey," he croaked smiling, reaching out for me.

I staggered backwards and pressed a hand to my mouth. Uncontrollable tears streamed down my cheeks and sobs racked my body. My vision was blurred from all the tears, but I somehow managed to stumble forwards towards his bed and fell into his arms.

"You're really here?" I cried into his chest, as his arms circled me, holding me tightly. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," he kissed my forehead and stroked my hair.

The sound of his voice tore every emotion from the last three months from me. All my words were incoherent, I was a blubbering mess. He didn't mind, he listened and mumbled soothing words to me. He held me through it all, even when his sobs joined mine, he continued rubbing my back and listening.

I had forgotten what home felt like and had begun to wonder if I would ever know what the definition of safe was again.

I cried until I couldn't anymore. Once I had finished, my heart was still beating uncontrollably.

My brain was having a hard time comprehending that I was safe and I was home. I was where I belonged.

"I'm so sorry for putting all of you through this. I know you how worry when I'm on patrol."

"It's ok, you're here and that's all that matters," I said snuggling into him. "How can I be mad when the reason we met was because of your work? How can I stop you from helping others? Just like you helped me all those years ago. You love your job, I would never ask you to leave it."

Many years ago, things got really bad. To this day, no one ever blamed me, but I blamed myself. My mother blamed herself. My father blamed himself. They blamed themselves for not noticing, but how could they? Just like me, they were charmed, fooled.

I could have gotten out of the situation, left that house, left him, but I didn't. I stayed. I stayed for too long, some days I wondered if I would ever get out, but then he would cry and apologise.

That day was worst than most. Usually the yelling was contained to the house, but that time he followed me out and continued shouting. He threw a pot plant in my direction, which narrowly missed my head. That moment I knew I had to leave, run as far away as I could, wherever that may have been.

If it had not been for my neighbour's call, the outcome could have been very different.

He came with one of his fellow officers, that was the first time I had felt safe in a long time. He asked me if I was ok, whether I needed anything and sat by me as I sat in silence attempting to process everything.

After that day, I didn't want to forget him. As luck would have it, I saw him at the coffee shop a couple weeks later. He asked him how I was and I said better since then.

It took a long time for me to recover and stop blaming myself, he supported me through all of it. The countless therapy sessions, the sleepless nights and panic attacks. Never once pushing for more than I was willing to give.

I was hesitant at first. What if I was only interested because he was the first person to show me kindness in such a long time? The more we talked, the harder it was to deny the truth.

"Our love is a friendship that has caught fire," he always said, as he winked at me.

I used to roll my eyes at his corniness, but the more I thought about it, he was right. He would always introduce me, as being just his friend, deep down we both knew we were bound to create something more together.

"I heard you," he whispered, cool breath against my neck. "I felt you too,
holding my hand."

"You did?" He kissed me.

We stayed glued together for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other's arms. We exchanged few words, but shared a lot of tears and kisses.

The tears had dried on my cheeks, my eyes were red and puffy, none of that mattered. We had forever now.

"How's the little one?" He placed his hand on my stomach. We created another life together.

"She's good," I smiled happily, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"She?" The heart rate monitor spiked, causing me to laugh.

"Yeah, we're going to have a daughter," I beamed up at him. He grinned down at me, pure joy radiating from his face.

"What would you like to name her?"

I looked down at my stomach. "Hope."