Chapter Text
There you are, all alone in this dingy hotel room in Romania, while the cold rain pours outside, hurt and holding back tears. It was not how this trip was supposed to go. It was not what your life was supposed to become.
You had been touring Europe with your boyfriend for months. You had dreamt of this trip since you were 14, making lists of what to visit, what food to try. You were an avid learner when it came to culture and there was just so much to see and to learn in Europe.
So you planned everything. You got a job as a web developer, so you could freelance remotely to fund your travels. You thought you’d travel solo and had talked to a lot of other girls who had lived that amazing experience. It seemed perfectly doable.
But then Ben entered your life.
Ben who came from a wealthy family and always thought you were cheap when you checked the prices. Ben who kept saying you were dumb.
Ben who was a CEO at 25 years old. Ben who threw punches behind closed doors.
Paranoid, coked up, jealous Ben.
He had insisted on joining your trip, yet blaming you for him having to take time off from work.
He complained about everything. He hated the lack of AC in Europe, he hated the currencies changes, he hated the various languages. He hated museums. And at the end of the day, he’d make sure to ruin any fun you had that day, leaving you hurt physically and emotionally.
Last night, you arrived in Romania, which you found beautiful, but he hated it. Of course. A man in the street smiled at you as you were admiring a facade in the street, and you smiled back. Because it was nice, and you were happy to be here.
Last night, in this room, Ben broke your wrist. You think it’s broken. It’s badly bruised, and swollen and really hurts. You should got to a hospital.
And Ben is out of the picture, for now. He left, after yelling at you. He’s on a private flight back to New York, because he has urgent business to attend to. You’re relieved and it makes this even worse. You’ve lost yourself in this relationship, lost all sense of pride and self esteem and now you’re just a shell. A shell with the possibility of a broken wrist, in a foreign country. Maybe you can grab your life back, one baby step at a time. You have to try.
So you take a deep breath, grab your handbag, and go down to the hotel office.
That place is nearly falling apart, but gosh the people are so nice.
You go the the night manager, a lovely young lady, and show her your wrist and ask where the hospital is. Her eyes widen. « Police? » she asks. « No, no police. Just hospital. » you answer.
She nods sadly , knowingly, and gives you a map and shows you that there’s a local hospital a couple streets from here. You love that about cities in Europe, you can just walk from places to places.
So you go to the hospital, praying they speak English. They do, nearly better than you.
The nurse asks what’s wrong. « I hurt my wrist. » you say, blushing, showing them.
You’re installed on a gurney, in a room with other patients, and told to wait for the doctor.
They say they await an emergency so it might be a long wait. You don’t mind, you reassure them.
So, you wait. You start a discussion in gestures and funny sounds with an old lady and she gives you cute toothless smiles. Your heart melts.
But then, you hear shouting.
They rush in a gurney with a man. Or what’s left of him. There’s so much blood. And he’s covered in bruises and cuts and… bullet holes?
The nurse looks frantic until she sees you.
« Not enough nurses. You help? » she asks and you don’t hesitate to answer yes and approach the new patient. All Hell broke loose tonight for that guy.
Now is time to make yourself useful, and within minutes you find yourself gloved up, armed with a bucket of disinfectant in warm water and a soft sponge, and scissors to remove the bloodied clothes. You start carefully taking off the clothes of the man, in order to clean him so the doctor can asses the extend of the damage.
The man opens his eyes when you start unbuckling his belt and his hand tries to stop you, eyes terrified.
You look at him. He has beautiful blue eyes and you smile at him. « Let me help you. I’m not going to hurt you. » you say, but you’re not sure he understands.
So you just gently take his hand and squeeze it with a smile. He takes a breath and nods, so you quickly take off everything.
His body is a battlefield, you’re not even sure how he is even alive.
But you keep your promise to the nurse and delicately start cleaning him. His eyes don’t leave you.
You move to let go of his hand but he squeezes hard, so you give him another smile. « Ok. » you say. And you could swear he breathes a little better.
Once he’s cleaned enough, the nurse has found a doctor. While she hooks him on machines for vitals, the doctor starts examining him and giving a bunch of orders.
The man seems to understand and panic.
The nurses lays the material to draw blood and get him on IV beside the bed. You know it’s standard procedure, but the man gets really agitated.
He barks something you don’t understand.
« What’s wrong? » you ask the nurse. He looks at you, frantic.
« No needles, he said. » she answers, showing you her tray, exhaustion on her face.
« Can you tell him I stay and hold his hand? » She nods and tells the man something and the man relaxes a little. He nods at you. You gently cover his lower body with the sheet, then you sit beside him and hold his hand. And you sing to him in a low voice, keeping him occupied while the nurse works quickly.
He lets her, but keep squeezing your fingers, making sure you’re still there. There’s terror in his eyes. And you can feel it’s not just the needles.
The nurse finishes.
« We do surgery in one hour. You stay with him after? »
« If it’s ok with him, yes. »
The nurses asks him, he looks at you and you nod, smiling, so he nods too.
She leaves. He falls asleep, still holding your hand. You fall asleep too.
When you wake up, it’s morning, and he’s visibly been operated on during the night.
The young doctor signals you to get back to your bed and he looks at your wrist.
He stares at it, at your face, examines the wrist again, then let’s out a deep breath.
« How? » he asks softly, and you blush. He knows, but still you try. « Stairs? » you answer and the lie is obvious. He rolls his eyes but not at you.
« Police? » he asks, voice so gentle now.
" No. No police, please. » I beg him and he nods, like he’s seen this a million times. He probably has.
« Not broken. Not yet. » he says, and then lets me know I’ll have some medication to pick up at the chemist.
You're expecting them to kick you out for not being an urgent patient, but they don’t say anything.
The old lady looks at the wounded man staring at you and she says something to him. He answers in a hoarse, low voice.
She smiles at you. He chuckles. It’s the sweetest sound.
Eventually, you're discharged. You give the old lady a kiss on the forehead. Then you turn to look at him. There’s something in his eyes. Something kind, and maybe hopeful.
Before you can think, you go to him and kiss his forehead too and you could swear there’s a little tear in his eye. You wave at him and you leave, a little reluctantly.
You go to the chemist to pick up your meds and go back to the hotel. The meds make you dizzy, so you sleep for a while, the shock of everything catching up on you.