Beneath Guarded Hearts - 80

Previously…

Asma

I had heard the faint drip-drops from the shower, but I dismissed them, having caught 3bdulla not turning the water knob all the way one too many times. I felt the wet puddles tickle my toes. At first I felt confusion, being still half asleep and not completely alert of my surroundings. There was a light flow of water that swished through my feet as my body made hard contact with the smooth, marble floor. My eyes jolted open in sudden awareness right before being knocked out by an unfamiliar darkness. I vaguely heard a scream.

________________

3bdulla

            I stood on my numbed legs as I glared at the wall that stood between Asma and me. I clenched my fists. It was my fault that she was in that operation room, my fault for being so careless. I didn’t know what the risks were, who was in danger. My wife, my child, or even both. Either way, I was in no way able to prepare for it, desperately clinging on to hope and chanting prayers in a choked, muffled murmur. Nothing would happen, I insisted. Just as I thought that, I heard an agonized cry from behind the room, the first commotion after what felt like a lifetime of silence. It stunned me back to my weak legs, my stiff shoulders, my clenched fists.

            I cried out her name, unaware of my surroundings. I felt two strong arms dragging me backwards with force, and I found something wet dripping down the course of my fingers, and realized it was blood. I had been punching the tinted window that blocked Asma from my view. I struggled to break free of whoever held me, when I realized that it wasn’t one person but two. Rashid and Sul6an. When they wouldn’t let go, I swung around and punched Rashid straight in the face. Sul6an, in a quick reflex, elbowed my ribs hard and shoved me with a resilient thrust on my sweating chest. I staggered backwards, but the rage bubbling through my veins found a new outlet. I was about to swing my next fist at Sul6an, ignoring all the voices around me that begged me to stop, muting them out. Then I looked right into his eyes and saw Asma, the same deep eyes just a pinch lighter than his. I stopped midair and stomped outside, unconsciously rubbing my bruised knuckles gently. Someone sent a nurse after me, who tended to my wound. I didn’t stop her, just glowered fixedly into the darkness. I looked up at a starless, midnight sky, and I resumed praying, this time more urgently than before.

Asma

            I awoke in a surgery room, my whole body shivering, aware of the knives that incised through my skin, revealing a pool of blood. In a wave of nausea, I noticed the emptiness fill me.

“The patient is dealing with a lot of pain, put her out now!”

            I was panicking as I heard screams in the back of my head, and in horror, I found out they were mine. I felt a raw pinch somewhere on my arm, my other pains distracting my conscience, as a needle shoved its way into my pale skin. But before I passed out, I saw what was enough to knock me out alone.

Doctor: “Time of death, 2:57am.”

My baby.

3bdulla

            There was a deadly stillness, the kind you feel right before an earthquake emerges. I rushed back inside. Sul6an was literally red as he argued with the doctor, towering over him, and then there was sudden silence. Sul6an’s eyes widened, unblinking, his shoulders slumping down, his skin suddenly pale.

Sul6an: “What did you say?”

            The doctor backed away, as if in danger of a predator about to go for the kill.

Doctor: “Ms. Asma is alright, but…”

            The relief swept through me as fast as it left me. But? I marched up to him, a new panic evading me.

Me: “But what?!”

Doctor: “Sir, I am very sorry, but we couldn’t save the baby.”

To be continued…