Chapter 51
Chapter 49: Relapse
Sedona’s POV
The treatment had left me hollowed out in ways I was still discovering, I found out new
discoveries of being exhausted that actually redefined what i knew previously about being
tired.
But there were good days scattered among the bad ones. There were precious moments
when the nausea was reduced so much that I could walk the hospital corridors without
feeling like the floor was tilting, when my vision cleared enough to read a few pages of a
book, when I could hold a conversation with someone without losing trach of what we were
talking about.
This was one of the good days.
Rachel had arrived mid-morning with Molly, who’d recently figured out that the world was full
of things to point at and laugh about, madness determined to point out each and every one
that she could see.
The sun was actually out which was rare for a city that loved staying foggy. The nurses not
letting this opportunity pass by was encouraging mobile patients to spend time in the
gardens if they felt up to it.
“What do you think?” Rachel asked, already unbuckling Molly from her carrier.
“Want to get some fresh air? Molly’s been cooped up all morning and if I don’t let her burn off
some energy, she’s going to dismantle my living room when we get home p>
I looked out the window at the courtyard garden below and decided to do it. The garden.
looked inviting from the windowsill here.
“Yes,” I said, surprised by how much I wanted it, not because I wanted to make Rachel not
worry about me.. “Yes, I’d like that p>
It took longer than it should have to get ready, as I had to actually change back into real clothes that were in my go to bag instead of wearing the hospital gowns, that was good for free movement but not for moving far distance due to hownpoose it was and it wouldnt fight
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off the cold.
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Holding on tight to the IV pole that I’d become tethered to, it took a while for me to stand up
and find my footing. But eventually I was mobile, Rachel beside me with Molly on her hip,
making our way to the elevator and then outside into the November afternoon.
The air hit my face like a blessing. The air was cold and clean and free from antiseptic the
way that the hospital air would never be.
I closed my eyes and just breathed it in, feeling it fill my lungs, feeling my chest expand with
something that wasn’t pain for once.
“Here,” Rachel said, and I opened my eyes to find her transferring Molly into my arms.
“Hold her for a bit. She’s been asking for you all morning-well, in her language, which mostly
consists of pointing at your picture on my phone and making demanding noises p>
Molly settled against me easily and I adjusted my hold on her, making sure that she was
steady beside me.
We walked slowly along the garden path, my IV pole wheels clicking over the paving stones,
Rachel providing commentary about nothing important, but just filling the air to avoid it being
tense and awkward and since I was stuck indoors, I had nothing worth bringing up.
She was giving me the basic gossips that were happening in her life, she gave me gossip
about their neighbors, something funny Enzo had said at breakfast, the ongoing saga of
trying to get Molly to eat vegetables without her treating it like a personal betrayal.
Normal conversation. The kind you have when you’re not dying, when the biggest problem
one had was remembering if they had forgotten to pick up the milk on the way home.
I’d forgotten what that felt like.
“Look, Molly,” I said, stopping beside a tree that still had a few stubborn leaves clinging to its
branches. “Birds p>
Two crows were having an animated discussion in the upper branches, their harsh calls
cutting through the quit garden, in that CAW CAW sounds.
Molly’s eyes went wide, tracking the movement, and then she let out a delighted shriek that
probably violated several hospital quiet policies.
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And I laughed.
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Not the polite laughter that I had perfected as Logan’s wife but actual real laughter.
Molly looked at me with that expression babies get when adults do something unexpected
and interesting, then laughed too-a bubbling, uncontrolled sound that was completely
infectious.
Rachel was smiling at us, but her eyes were wet. “There you are,” she said softly. “I was
wondering when I’d see you again p>
“See me?” I repeated it as I was a bit confused by what she meant.
“The real you. The one who laughs like that.” She came closer, touched my arm gently.
“You’ve been so controlled since you got back. So careful. Like you were afraid if you relaxed
for even a moment, you’d fall apart completely p>
“Maybe I was afraid of that,” I admitted. “Maybe I still am p>
“Don’t be. We’ll catch you if you fall p>
The crows took off suddenly, a flurry of black wings and indignant cries. Molly pointed after
them, bouncing in my arms, making urgent baby noises that clearly meant “more birds,
please provide more birds immediately p>
“Sorry, sweet girl,” I said, shifting her weight slightly so I wouldn’t drop her as her eyes kept
straining to see the birds falling the other way.
“I don’t control the bird schedule p>
And that’s when the pain hit.
Not the constant low-level ache I’d gotten used to, not the manageable discomfort that
medication could touch. This was something else entirely, it stared off sharply, without
warning-a ripping sensation deep in my abdomen, like something tearing that shouldn’t tear,
like my body was coming apart from within me.
I gasped, the sound sharp and involuntary.
My knees buckled slightly but I locked them, every instinct focused on one thing: protect
Molly, don’t drop Molly, keep her safe.
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“Sedona?” Rachel’s voice, suddenly sharp with alarm. “What’s wrong p>
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I tried to answer but what came out instead was a cough, wet and horrible. I turned my head
away from Molly just in time, felt the warm splash of blood on my hand, saw it spatter onto
the pale stones of the garden path.
Molly’s eyes went wide. She made a small sound-not crying yet, but the sound that came
before it, the inhale before the wail.
“Rachel “I managed, and then my legs really did give out.
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