Doris English - A Healing Love

Laura picked up the patient’s chart and walked toward the bed, her crepe-soled shoes making whispering sounds on the hard shiny floor. When she reached the bedside, she unbuttoned her jacket and took a stethoscope and a small flashlight from her skirt pocket.

Pausing for a moment, she studied the patient. His color was good; his breathing appeared normal; but his creased brow and the hard set of his mouth indicated that either his dreams were unpleasant or he was experiencing some pain.

She leaned closer. He moaned slightly and the frown deepened as his dark-brown eyes opened to stare blankly into hers.

Laura drew back at the intensity in them, catching her breath in an inaudible gasp; yet she seemed powerless to take her eyes from his. In that unguarded moment before full consciousness arrived, his eyes revealed pure, agonizing heartbreak while at the same time blazing with a fire and vitality that sent shock waves to Laura’s innermost being.

She remained close to him, mesmerized by what she saw, yet feeling like an intruder as he grappled to return to consciousness. For a moment she had gazed into the very soul of this man and, unknown to him, witnessed some deep, unidentified longing that tormented him. It both awed and fascinated her.

So entranced by what she saw, she failed to notice one muscular arm move from beneath the sheet. Suddenly, with lightning speed and inconceivable strength, it encircled her neck while his other hand grasped a handful of her hair. He pulled her face to his.

“Mona, Mona. Why? Why?” he groaned as his lips claimed hers.

Too stunned to recoil and too afraid of injuring him by forceful resistance, Laura closed her eyes and waited, locked motionless in the man’s embrace, waiting for the inevitable. She knew that soon the adrenaline would expend itself and he would slip limply from his semiconscious state back into oblivion, where he would have no painful recall of the past few moments.

Not so for Laura. Her heart thumped wildly and her inner ears reverberated with the name Mona. Who was she? The source of his agony, perhaps. She knew the answer. His kiss had told her. It contained no tenderness, only a commanding possessiveness. But what about Darlene?

He released her lips and his eyes closed. When Laura turned her head slightly, his arm locked like a vice around her neck and his fingers pulled her long thick hair.

Pushing against the bed with her hands, she maneuvered her body gently, straining to take some of her weight off him, hoping the gentle resistance would free her without injury to him, but his grip only tightened.

She groped for the emergency light and it fell with a clatter to the hard floor. Rising anxiety pumped Laura’s heart even more wildly; she was trapped.

She considered her alternatives. She could ring for Hilda, but by the time help arrived Laura might be free. Anyway, she’d just as soon the affable but talkative nurse didn’t find her in this situation. It would be the sole topic of hospital conversation by morning and for weeks to come.

She muffled a gasp. Her momentary position was not only embarrassing but painful. If he didn’t relax his hold soon she would be forced to call for assistance. The door opened quietly behind her and she heard soft footsteps in the room. Laura whispered, “Hilda? I need some assistance.”

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