Satin Princess(30)
“Yes?”
“Your explanation better be really fucking good.”
11
JESSA
Marina is in front of me. White dress, stained with her blood.
No, wait, not her blood. Blood from the thing she’s holding.
She turns to me, her eyes like blazing blue suns, promising all kinds of pain. Then she shows me what she is carrying…
My baby.
I wake up screaming.
The older nurse rushes into the room and holds me down until I stop thrashing. The second nurse is a little younger and much more cautious with me. Courtney, I think her name is.
“Water?” Courtney asks, offering me a glass.
My mouth is parched, so I accept and chug half of it down before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Where’s Anton?”
He was here when I fell asleep. I was nestled against his chest. I fell asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
“I’m not sure, dear,” Courtney says. “Would you like me to call him?”
“No,” I say quickly. “No, I was just wondering.”
“Alrighty then. Drink up, sweetheart,” the woman says with maternal tenderness. “You’ll feel better once you’re hydrated.”
I drink up, and when I’m finished, she takes the glass and offers me a damp towel for my forehead. I want to protest that I don’t need to be handled with kid gloves like this, but it just feels too good.
The door opens and the ruthlessly efficient doctor sweeps in. “Another nightmare?” she asks.
I nod and croak, “Yes.”
“It sounded bad.”
“I dreamed I was staring at my dead baby,” I whisper, sparing them the goriest details.
Courtney looks horrified on my behalf, but Dr. Mathers barely reacts. I know it’s not disinterest, though. She’s just being calm and professional, same as she has been since I arrived.
“Your baby is fine, Jessa,” she reminds me. “I’m monitoring the fetus closely and the heartbeat is strong. I think it’s safe to pronounce your baby out of the woods.”
“Does that mean I can walk around a little?” I ask hopefully. I frown at the expression on the doctor’s face. “What is it?”
“Walking isn’t going to hurt you at this point,” she says reluctantly. “But Mr. Stepanov feels that you would benefit from a little more bedrest.”
Well, that tracks.
“So the only reason I’ve been lying here all this time is because he’s ordered it?” I demand.
“‘Ordered’ is a strong word.” I cock my head to the side and give her an accusing look. She sighs and relents. “But in this case, it’s an accurate one.”
That settles it. I push the duvet cover aside and swing my legs down off the bed. The moment my toes hit the plush carpet on the floor, I feel a surge of adrenaline.
“Who knew the highlight of my day would be getting out of this bed?”
“Resting isn’t the worst idea, Jessa,” Dr. Mathers says.
I glance at her with a smile. “Are you saying you’re scared of him?”
“Isn’t everyone?”
I laugh giddily as I struggle to get myself upright. It takes more effort than I expected, but I do feel more like myself when I’m on my feet.
“This feels… nice.”
Courtney offers me her elbow. “Wanna take a closer look at that view?”
“Yes, please.”
She helps me shuffle carefully to the window ledge on my weak Bambi legs. I’m wearing a pair of loose sweatpants and the softest t-shirt imaginable. It feels like I’m swaddled up in a cloud.
But as soon as I think that thought, I remember the bundle from my dream, and the joy goes right back out of me.
“London does look a little different from up here, doesn’t it?” Courtney remarks as we come to a rest at the windowsill.
“Are you from here?”
“Originally from Manchester,” she says. “But I’ve lived in London for almost three decades now. Both my kids were born here. They go to university here, too.”
“What are they studying?”
“Simon wants to get into advertising and Marianne’s in pastry school.”
“No way. I’m a chef.”
Her eyes light up a little. “Do you love it?”
I touch the back of her hand and grin. “So, so much.”
The woman sighs like she’s been desperate to hear someone say that. “That’s so nice, darling. I’ve been worried sick that it will be a difficult path for her.”
“It can be sometimes. But if she loves it enough, it’ll be worth it.”
“Maybe you should get back in bed, Jessa,” Dr. Mathers says, interrupting our conversation. I had forgotten she was still in the room.
“I just got out of bed,” I argue. “And anyway, I feel much better.”
“Let’s not push it so soon, though.”
Sighing, I turn from the window with Courtney’s help. “Is he really so terrifying that I can’t stand up for a few minutes?”
“Have you seen the man?” Dr. Mathers deadpans.
I can feel Courtney trying to suppress her laughter as she gently pulls me back to the bed. “Wait,” I protest. “I want to see the rest of the suite.”