45

[ARTEMY]
Wyatt paused, offering words of advice. “First and foremost, we need to be patient and understanding with her. We can’t force her to speak if she’s not ready. We can gently encourage her, but we shouldn’t push too hard. The most important thing is to show her love and support. We need to make sure she never feels alone. We can try to lighten the mood, crack jokes, and bring some happiness into her life.”
As Wyatt spoke, I rubbed the back of my neck in frustration, trying to relieve the tension that had built up there. It was a futile attempt; my muscles were tight and strained. A relentless headache pounded in my head, and a wave of nausea washed over me, accompanied by a heavy ache in my heart.
Lost in my thoughts and fixated on Rebecca’s motionless figure, I almost missed Wyatt’s next words.
“I’ll prescribe her an antidepressant,” Wyatt continued, breaking through my haze. “It won’t cure her PTSD, but it might help calm her down and alleviate some of the sadness, anxiety, and constant unease. I’ll also give her sleeping pills to help prevent nightmares. Just make sure she doesn’t take too many at once. It would be wise to keep the pills out of her reach. One of you should take responsibility for giving her the medication at the prescribed times.”
“I’ll do it,” Lynda volunteered, her voice determined.
“Good. She needs someone to look after her. Be gentle,” Wyatt emphasized.
Gentle. It was a word we rarely used, a concept foreign to us.
“Boss, may I be excused now?” Wyatt asked after a few moments of heavy silence.
I nodded, my eyes still fixed on Rebecca’s unmoving form.
“Lynda, you should clean up,” Leon suggested from behind me.
“Let me change Rebecca’s clothes first. She’s covered in blood. I’ll also change the bedding before I go,” Lynda replied, her voice filled with resolve.
As Lynda insisted that we vacate the room, we obediently retreated, finding ourselves waiting in tense silence just beyond the closed door.
Restlessness consumed me as I paced back and forth, every passing minute without Rebecca’s presence weighing heavily upon me. It was agonizing to be separated from her, especially when she was in such a troubled state. The mere thought of it made me recoil, as if all the emotions surging through me were unfamiliar intruders. Rebecca had managed to unravel my self-control completely.
Damn it, I had already surrendered my control without even realizing it. She had burrowed deep beneath my skin, stirring feelings in my once-cold and impassive heart. I experienced pain and sadness, all for her.
In a moment of defeat, I leaned against the wall and thumped my head back, closing my eyes with a heavy sigh.
The sound of the door opening abruptly snapped my eyes open, causing me to move away from the wall. “Has she awakened?” I inquired eagerly. Lynda shook her head forlornly.
“I’ll keep a watch over her,” I declared firmly, my voice resonating with resolve as I stepped inside the room. Closing the door behind me, I positioned the wooden chair beside Rebecca’s bed and sank down onto it, the weight of my body making it creak.
I needed to touch her, to assure myself that she was truly alive, breathing, and tangible. Leaning forward in the chair, I tenderly brushed my thumb over her fingers before tracing the unbandaged part of her wrist. My thumb glided over the delicate skin, sensing her steady pulse.
I had become skilled at concealing my emotions and shielding myself, yet this woman had managed to unravel all my defenses. In the short time we had known each other, she had made me feel more than I had in my entire twenty-two years of existence.
Withdrawing my hand, I ran both of them through my hair, a futile attempt to regain control. There was no room for weakness, and emotions were undoubtedly a vulnerability that could only lead to my demise.
Seating myself beside Rebecca, I prepared to wait for her to regain consciousness, forcefully imprinting that notion in my mind.
And when she finally stirred from her slumber, I had mastered my emotions. I composed my features into an impassive mask, straightening up in the chair as I observed her shifting in the bed.
Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, evidently perplexed. I noticed her wince, and gradually she turned her head to face me. Her eyes widened, and a surprised gasp escaped her lips.
“Good morning,” I greeted her evenly.
“Good… morning…” she responded, her voice laced with bewilderment.
“How are you feeling?” I inquired.
Her brow furrowed, and she appeared lost in contemplation. “I don’t know. Strange. My head hurts.”
Rebecca raised her hand, but winced once more. Her eyes widened at the sight of the bandages adorning her arms, freezing momentarily with her hand still suspended in midair over her face.
“Do you remember?” I asked, leaning closer.
She remained silent for a few moments, then cautiously nodded, her movements measured.
“Rebecca, why did you do it?” I murmured softly, careful not to startle her with my questions.
She remained silent, letting out a sigh as her hand dropped back onto the mattress. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling, purposefully avoiding any eye contact with me.
“If you won’t talk to us, Rebecca, we can’t help you. And we genuinely want to help,” I pleaded in a hushed voice. “Please, say something,” I begged when she continued to ignore me.
It was as if I had become invisible to her.
I reached out, placing my hand next to hers, our fingers just inches apart.
“Rebecca,” I took a deep breath, attempting to calm my racing heart. “I can make assumptions about what happened. I can guess. But I don’t want to assume. I want to hear the truth from you. Say something. Anything.”
Still, she remained silent.
Nothing.
She obstinately refused to speak.
I wearily rubbed my other hand over my face, pinching the bridge of my nose before exhaling a frustrated breath.
This was proving to be much more difficult than I had anticipated.
After a few minutes of heavy silence between us, I leaned closer. “You mean so much more than you realize,” I whispered gently, hoping my words would have some impact on her. “You bring happiness to others. You radiate light, Rebecca. There are people who genuinely care about you. People who want to help. Let us help.”
Yet, she showed no reaction. Her body remained rigid as she continued to fix her gaze upon the ceiling, almost unfazed.
It tore at my heart to witness the injustice Rebecca had endured. I yearned to know the truth. No, I was desperate for it. I needed to discover who she truly was and who could have caused her such pain.
My eyes shifted to our hands, placed side by side but not touching. Slowly, I inched my fingers closer to hers, feeling the weight of tension and anguish emanating from her.
“May I touch you?” I asked quietly.
I lifted my gaze, meeting her eyes just in time to witness the shock that swept across her face in response to my question. “Can I hold your hand?” I whispered, hoping for a genuine reaction from her.
Rebecca remained silent, her green eyes losing focus once again. The tension in her body seemed to intensify, making me question if I had pushed too hard or too fast.
Instead of replying, Rebecca’s hand moved slowly. However, she didn’t reach out towards me; instead, she withdrew her hand and placed it protectively over her stomach.
That was all the answer I needed. It spoke volumes. She was retreating, shutting herself off from any form of comfort.
I exhaled sharply, feeling a mixture of frustration and resignation. Rising to my feet, I spoke again, trying to convey my sentiments. “I want you to know that you are loved. You matter. To Lynda. To Nona.” I paused, my throat tightening with emotion. And to me. But I kept those words unspoken.
Silence lingered in the air, hanging heavily between us. Rebecca closed her eyes, effectively shutting me out. She became distant, unresponsive.
I gazed at her for a moment longer, aching with each step I took away from her. It was difficult, but I forced myself to retreat.
She needed time alone, to process and come to terms with what had happened. Yet, I desperately hoped that my words had reached her amidst the silence.
Because they were undeniably true.