Dr. Bennett remained beside the door.<\/p>\n
I stood across from her, trying to decide whether to ask another question.<\/p>\n
I had several.<\/p>\n
Was Clara in pain?<\/p>\n
Had the baby needed special care?<\/p>\n
Would the doctors know soon whether everything was going to be all right?<\/p>\n
The questions crowded together until I couldn't tell which one mattered most.<\/p>\n
I finally asked about Clara's condition.<\/p>\n
Dr. Bennett explained that her blood pressure had become dangerously elevated during labor.<\/p>\n
The medical team had decided they couldn't wait any longer to deliver the baby.<\/p>\n
They had moved quickly.<\/p>\n
Clara was now stable, but she had been through an exhausting experience.<\/p>\n
I listened without interrupting.<\/p>\n
The details were frightening enough on their own.<\/p>\n
I didn't need to imagine anything beyond them.<\/p>\n
Still, I found myself studying Dr. Bennett's expression.<\/p>\n
She was calm.<\/p>\n
She was direct.<\/p>\n
But she had not told me everything she wanted me to know.<\/p>\n
I could feel that much.<\/p>\n
"Is there a problem with the baby?"<\/p>\n
She paused briefly.<\/p>\n
Then she answered the question as best she could.<\/p>\n
I listened closely, afraid of misunderstanding even one word.<\/p>\n
When she finished, I thanked her.<\/p>\n
It seemed like the only appropriate thing to say.<\/p>\n
She nodded and told me someone would let me know if there were any changes.<\/p>\n
Then she stepped aside.<\/p>\n
I looked at the door.<\/p>\n
For hours, I had wanted to cross that distance.<\/p>\n
Now I found myself hesitating.<\/p>\n
I thought about how Clara might look.<\/p>\n
I imagined her lying beneath a hospital blanket, her hair untidy, her face pale from exhaustion.<\/p>\n
I imagined her opening her eyes and seeing me.<\/p>\n
What would I say first?<\/p>\n
Would I ask whether she was all right?<\/p>\n
Would I tell her how frightened I had been?<\/p>\n
Would I mention the baby immediately, or would I wait until I knew she felt ready to talk?<\/p>\n
Every possible opening sounded wrong.<\/p>\n
I took a breath.<\/p>\n
Then I reached for the handle.<\/p>\n
The room was quieter than the corridor.<\/p>\n
A monitor stood beside the bed, and a small light on its screen changed as the numbers shifted.<\/p>\n
The curtains were partly closed.<\/p>\n
A hospital blanket covered Clara to her waist.<\/p>\n
She looked smaller than I remembered, not because she had changed, but because the bed and the equipment around her seemed to take up so much space.<\/p>\n
Her eyes were closed.<\/p>\n
I stopped just inside the doorway.<\/p>\n
For one terrible second, I thought I had arrived too late to speak to her.<\/p>\n
Then she moved her hand beneath the blanket.<\/p>\n
Her eyes opened.<\/p>\n
She looked toward me.<\/p>\n
I walked to the bedside.<\/p>\n
"Clara?"<\/p>\n
She turned her head slightly.<\/p>\n
"You're here."<\/p>\n
Her voice was weak.<\/p>\n
I pulled a chair closer and sat beside her.<\/p>\n
"Of course I'm here."<\/p>\n
I wanted to touch her face, but I wasn't sure whether she was comfortable.<\/p>\n
Instead, I took her hand.<\/p>\n
Her fingers were warm.<\/p>\n
That small detail steadied me more than anything the doctor had said.<\/p>\n
I looked at her carefully.<\/p>\n
She seemed exhausted beyond anything I had seen before.<\/p>\n
There were faint marks where the hospital equipment had rested against her skin.<\/p>\n
Her lips were dry.<\/p>\n
She tried to smile, but the effort didn't last.<\/p>\n
I squeezed her hand gently.<\/p>\n
"You don't have to talk."<\/p>\n
She looked at me for a moment.<\/p>\n
Then she glanced toward the door.<\/p>\n
I followed her eyes.<\/p>\n
Nothing moved outside.<\/p>\n
When I looked back, she was watching me again.<\/p>\n
I wondered what she had been thinking.<\/p>\n
I wondered whether she was frightened.<\/p>\n
I wondered whether she was trying to remember what the doctors had told her.<\/p>\n
There were too many possibilities.<\/p>\n
I didn't ask.<\/p>\n
Instead, I told her that Dr. Bennett had spoken to me.<\/p>\n
Clara gave a small nod.<\/p>\n
"They told you about the delivery?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
She looked down at our hands.<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I thought she might cry.<\/p>\n
Her eyes became wet, but no tears fell.<\/p>\n
I had seen Clara upset before.<\/p>\n
I had seen her angry, embarrassed, disappointed, and frightened.<\/p>\n
This was different.<\/p>\n
She looked as though she had spent every bit of energy she possessed on something I couldn't see.<\/p>\n
I felt helpless.<\/p>\n
That was the truth of it.<\/p>\n
I wanted to fix what had happened, even though I knew there was nothing I could do to change the night.<\/p>\n
I wanted to promise her that everything would be easy from that moment onward.<\/p>\n
I couldn't make that promise honestly.<\/p>\n
So I said the only thing I knew to be true.<\/p>\n
"I'm staying."<\/p>\n
She closed her eyes briefly.<\/p>\n
When she opened them again, she nodded.<\/p>\n
I sat beside her and let the room settle around us.<\/p>\n
The monitor continued its steady rhythm.<\/p>\n
A nurse came in, checked a few things, and spoke quietly to Clara.<\/p>\n
I moved my chair back to give her room.<\/p>\n
The nurse asked Clara how she was feeling.<\/p>\n
Clara answered in a few words.<\/p>\n
Then the nurse checked the equipment and left.<\/p>\n
Neither of us spoke until the door had closed.<\/p>\n
I thought about asking whether Clara wanted anything.<\/p>\n
Water.<\/p>\n
A pillow.<\/p>\n
The lights turned down.<\/p>\n
Instead, I noticed her looking toward the small table beside the bed.<\/p>\n
A plastic cup stood near a folded tissue.<\/p>\n
Her phone lay beside it.<\/p>\n
The screen was dark.<\/p>\n
She stared at it longer than I expected.<\/p>\n
Then she turned her face toward the pillow.<\/p>\n
I followed her gaze once more.<\/p>\n
There was nothing unusual about the phone.<\/p>\n
People carried their phones into hospitals every day.<\/p>\n
People checked messages, called family members, and looked for updates when they were frightened.<\/p>\n
I had done the same thing outside the room.<\/p>\n
Yet Clara's attention seemed to return to it whenever she thought I wasn't looking.<\/p>\n
I told myself not to read too much into that.<\/p>\n
She had just gone through a difficult delivery.<\/p>\n
She was exhausted.<\/p>\n
She had every reason to be distracted.<\/p>\n
I was the one looking for explanations in ordinary things.<\/p>\n
I knew that.<\/p>\n
Still, I couldn't ignore the change in her face whenever the screen caught her attention.<\/p>\n
It wasn't fear alone.<\/p>\n
It was something more complicated.<\/p>\n
I sat back in the chair.<\/p>\n
"Do you want me to get your phone?"<\/p>\n
She looked at me quickly.<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
The answer came too fast.<\/p>\n
Then she softened her voice.<\/p>\n
"Not right now."<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
"All right."<\/p>\n
I didn't ask why.<\/p>\n
Looking back, I sometimes wonder whether I was being considerate or simply afraid of hearing an answer I didn't want.<\/p>\n
Maybe it was both.<\/p>\n
I had spent the entire night telling myself that love meant being patient.<\/p>\n
I still believe patience matters.<\/p>\n
But patience can become an excuse when a person is too frightened to ask a necessary question.<\/p>\n
That night, I chose not to ask.<\/p>\n
Clara shifted slightly against the pillow.<\/p>\n
Her eyes closed again.<\/p>\n
I remained beside her, holding her hand until her breathing became more regular.<\/p>\n
I watched the monitor.<\/p>\n
I watched the door.<\/p>\n
And every so often, I glanced at the phone on the table.<\/p>\n
I didn't touch it.<\/p>\n
I didn't know that there was anything I wasn't supposed to see.<\/p>\n
Not yet.<\/p>\n
Dr. Bennett remained beside the door. I stood across from her, trying to decide whether to ask another question. I had several. Was Clara in pain? Had the baby needed … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":37479,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-37481","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37481","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=37481"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37481\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":37501,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37481\/revisions\/37501"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/37479"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=37481"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=37481"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=37481"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}