𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 | 𝐛. 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 - 𝐭𝐰𝐨 | 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧

      "WE'RE READY TO GO ONTO THE NEXT STEP. Are you ready, Lennon?" Doctor White asks.
      Lennon's hand holds onto mine firmly and she nods.
      "Yes," She whispers, her voice broken, her emotions getting the best of her.
Don't let him hurt you like this. Don't let him control you any more. He hurt you. He attacked you. But, he doesn't deserve the right to control your emotions. Don't let him.
Lennon looks at me, her watery eyes now red. She's crying. I frown and try to suppress my emotions.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes,"
The cycle continues, the examination going further.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes,"
Lennon cries as they use a sterile cotton swab to brush against her mouth for DNA.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes,"
They pull Lennon's gown back over her chest and cover her shoulders. Lennon looks back at me, her hair in her eyes.
"It's okay," I whisper. "You're okay. They're almost done."
She nods, closing her eyes. They lay her back and continue their examination. They take sterile cotton swabs and use them to collect DNA from any wounds he caused. The lights turn back on and Doctor White removes his gloves and gown, nodding to Lennon and I.
"Miss. Davis?" He asks, getting her attention. "We're done."
She exhales shakily, a sob escaping her lips. She covers her face with one hand, sobbing again. I stand from my seat, staying low to her. I smooth my hand over her hair, tilting my head.
"It's okay," I whisper, running my hand over her hair again. "I'm here."
I lean down, resting my head in the nape of her neck, holding onto her hand tightly. She slips her other hand up under my arm and holds onto me tightly. She sobs in my ear, quiet and broken. I use my other hand behind her head and hold her close to me.

* * * * *

Lennon leans into my chest, sleeping for a few minutes before her next dose of pain meds arrive. I lay on one side of the bed, she lay in my chest, cradled in my arms. The room is dark, just us. The tv plays something, although I don't watch it. My watch beeps and I scramble to stop it. She looks up at me, eyes groggy.
"What time is it?" She asks, looking around the room.
I look at my watch and exhale slowly before pulling my sleeve back down over it.
"Two thirty." I say, resting my head on top of hers gently. "The nurse is coming at three to give you your medicine."
She nods, resting her cheek against my chest. She chuckles quietly and punches the fabric of my shirt between her fingers.
"You still have this shirt? It's been so long, I would've thought you'd gotten rid of it." She says.
I look at my shirt, smiling. It's a green and white long sleeved baseball tee. I used to wear one all the time in San Fernando.
"Nah, it's not the same one. I had to throw my old one out a few years ago. It was so old and gross, and barely fit. My mom got me this one as a gift last Christmas." I say.
She smiles and rests her cheek back against my chest, exhaling, her arm wrapped around my waist carelessly. Her smile drops and she looks down at her lap.
"Hey," I say, brushing my hand across her shoulder gently. "What's wrong?"
She lifts her eyes and stares up at me again, pursing her lips together.
"I have something I need to tell you," She says, chewing on her bottom lip.
I sit up, an eyebrow raised, my hand still firmly held onto.
"Are you alright? Do I need to call the Doctor?" I ask.
She shakes her head and exhales slowly, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
"No, it happened a long time ago. I just didn't know how to tell you." She says.
Her eyes are watery and sad as she shakes her head. She inhaled shakily, then exhales slowly.
"Dad died," She says, pursing her lips together. "A little over three years ago."
I furrow my eyebrows and shake my head—he can't be dead. He can't be. He was a friend, a man I trusted more than any other man in town.
"Are you serious?" I ask, receiving a nod. "What happened?"
She exhales and holds both of my hands now, a frown settled on her face.
"He had a business conference in Philadelphia. A business trip, as usual. We thought nothing of it. This happens once a month. He's gone for a week, comes home, has the next week off, then the cycle prepares itself for repeat. On his drive back home, less than two miles outside of Philly, a car carrying a family—husband, wife, two year old daughter, three month old son—came barreling into head on traffic. Hit Dad straight on. Killed all five of them. Says the wife, son, and daughter died immediately, but the Husband and my Father didn't. By the time I got the call and got to the hospital in Philly, Dad was dead." She says. "His heart couldn't take the impact."
I exhale sharply, a tremble in my throat as I do so. I look at her again.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask. "I could've helped."
She blinks away tears and shakes her head, looking away from me for a moment.
"Benny, how was I supposed to bring that up? It's not something you casually bring up in conversation. Oh, remember my Dad, the guy that made me move and practically ended whatever relationship we had all those years ago? Yeah, he died. I can't just bring it up like that, Benny." She says.
      I exhale and roll my eyes. I groan, standing up from my spot on the bed.
      "Lennon, I could've helped. I could've come out and helped you through it. You wouldn't have had to go through it all alone." I say. "Why the Hell didn't you tell me?"
      She shakes her head. She twists the ring on her thumb back and forth.
      "Ham was right, Benny. The tension between us is palpable. And whenever we bring up even a piece of the past, the tension only gets worse. I think, for the sake of both of our own sanities, we should just strictly stay work friends, co-workers, and forget whatever past we had. I don't think talking between us works anymore. I've tried for weeks to get any sort of reaction out of you that wasn't some twisted, contorted mixture of lust and rage and all my attempts fail. You're stuck in between hot and cold, and I just want you to pick and stick with it. You can leave now," She says. "I'll see you on Tuesday."
      I furrow my brows and shake my head. This cannot be how this conversation ends.
      "Lennon, What are you—"
     "Benny, go away!" She exclaims, tears trailing down her cheeks.