Thursday, April 29, 2021

Chapter 5 - Can't Be True

 Experiencing death up close


“Appointment?”

I nodded at my assistant in affirmation, “I think it’s just the effects of pregnancy but Damon thinks otherwise.”

Caroline walked up to me, resting her hand on my shoulder as I shifted my gaze from the lush greenery of Mystic Falls to the bright blue orbs of my best friend.

“How do you feel about all this?” Her eyebrows piqued in concern as gratitude washed over my face. Here was my best friend, constantly thinking about how I was doing and then there was me, who was just drowning her in my worries.

I answered, “I don’t know. Everything is too uncertain right now and...I just wish I knew what was happening.”

I walked back to my desk, perching myself on the seat as the clock on the side wall chimed ten times.

My best friend joined me by sitting on the edge of the desk, “You’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to go wrong, okay? There is a chance this might just be the pregnancy.”

“I hope so.” I muttered under my breath before Caroline asked, “And is this doctor reliable?”

I sighed further into my chair, “Damon knows Dr. Flowers. It’s whom they consulted when they were going through this.”

“Seems like a gardener to me.”

“Shut up, Care.” I playfully smacked her on the arm as the room erupted into giggles.

“How are things with Salvatore, by the way?” Her tone turned grim as I looked up at her.

“Well, he’s getting along with you. I guess that counts.” I pointed out to which she brushed her fingers through her hair nonchalantly, “We’ve managed to stay cordial with one another.”

I grimaced at her words. There had been a day when Caroline and Damon had been great friends, sharing an annoyingly cute brother-sister banter between them. That night and three years later, they barely spoke to each other. I hadn’t just ruined a relationship of love, I had destroyed a friendship too.

“Elena, stop blaming yourself, please.” My best friend’s curt words caught my attention.

“We each made our own decisions. I made mine when I chose your side.”

“There weren’t supposed to be any sides, Care.”

“Who had expected a ‘Damon Salvatore’ either?”


With that, she walked off, leaving me to attend my next client.


----------


Just minutes into noon and I began to feel the positivity surge through me. The day had been progressing positively well, with cramps and dizziness almost at bay. I was okay. I was sure the doctor would be assuring us of the same in a few hours. It was nothing more than a false alarm, I was certain. My life was already messed up. Nothing more could go wrong, right?


Maybe I rejoiced too soon.


For the dizziness returned with such force that I stumbled in my step. The bloatedness returned with weariness as I wondered what I had eaten to deserve this. Breaths escaped my lungs in short spasms, my feel wobbling, my vision turning hazy. I was faintly aware of the commotion around me, internally groaning for publicly displaying my vulnerability. Strokes of pain pierced through my lower abdomen as I lunged forward, my eyes shut, my hand clasping over my belly as I tried to pacify the pain. Before I could swallow a gulp, I felt a stream of something urging to fall out of my mouth.


With whatever dignity I had left, I dashed to the nearest bathroom, abandoning the manuscript by the printer, with a hand covering my mouth. Pushing past the door to the Ladies’ room, I regurgitated everything I had into a toilet bowl. I had expected a discolored stream of food and bile and whatever had remained. Not red. Never red.


My breath hitched. My throat dried. My fingers trembled their way towards my lips. And that’s when I saw it drip from those fingertips, tainting every surface it touched. 


Blood.


Tears threatened to emerge as I felt myself break into pieces. I was throwing up blood. Suddenly I wished for the familiar cramps and nausea attacks, anything to divert my mind from this uncanny red liquid. I craved for the ‘morning sickness’ most mothers complained about. Anything to replace this. Anything to bring back the normalcy of pregnancy.


I timorously took one step after another, my body shivering, my brain blank yet dizzy, my heart soaring erratically, my eyelids blinking rapidly. My hands stained in blood, my mouth oozing out the same liquid. Was I dying? 


I didn’t want to die.


So I took a few fervent gulps, rummaging for the strength to locate my phone. It didn’t help with the frequent need to succumb to the darkness but I fought to keep my eyes open. Struggling with my balance, I caught hold of the counter by the multiple wash basins, feeling sweat roll off like balls of fire. I didn’t have it in me to sigh in relief the minute I found the familiar black screened device.


Taking it in my trembling hands, I dialed a number I still remembered off by heart, a number I had sworn to never forget until three years ago.

“Hello?” An absentminded voice echoed through the phone as my shoulders slumped, my hand clutching the edge of the counter for my dear life.

“D-d-dam--” I stuttered amidst gasps and heard shuffling on the other end. 

“Elena?” His voice tersely shifted in concern as he repeated my name.

I tried to keep my eyes open, my grasp on the counter slowly slipping away, “I...I--Dam--”

“Elena, what’s wrong?” I heard the urgent sound of footsteps.

The burden on my eyelids felt too heavy, the beating of my heart too loud. “B-blood.”

“I’m coming over. I’ll be there in five. Please keep talking to me, Elena.”

“Damon…” I breathed. In need. In apology.

I couldn’t fulfill his last request. 


Because that’s when I dropped to the ground, letting the darkness complete me.


----------


A gentle rocking motion, swishing my head back and forth. The sounds of engines whooshing past me playing a faint lull in the background. A sharp siren blaring at a distance. And subduing it all, a soothing baritone murmur. I shifted in my position, my throat dry, my eyes closed as I felt leather brush against my back.

“Rose, I want all my meetings canceled for the day. I know, but it's a personal emergency. Please request for a postponement.” 


My eyelids fluttered, adjusting to the brightness as my vision fixated to a man sat just beside me, his shoulders hunched, his brows puckered, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he instructed on the phone. He wore a standard white shirt again, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscled forearms. His black tie loosened, the jacket missing, his jet black hair a gorgeous mess.


Just like the Damon Salvatore I had come across six years ago.


I realized my surroundings to be a black sleek sedan. I rubbed my eyes, the effects of sleep slowly ebbing away as I wondered why my feet were unbearably cold while the rest of me felt warm and toasty. It was then that I realized how my babymate had lost his jacket; he had adorned it on me. I felt its soft material, running my fingers down every button, every thread, remembering how much I used to brush this off of him.

“You’re awake.” He acknowledged, handing me a bottle of water.

‘You’re here.” I returned after a few gulps, my voice filled with startled gratitude.

“Where else would I be?” His look had so much warmth, his voice so gentle that I had to look away to hide the effects, “I’m sorry for troubling you.”

“I’m happy you did.”

“You’re not supposed to be this nice, you know?” I sighed, leaning back into my comfort zone.

“Neither are you.” He simply shrugged, keeping his arm around me.

I waited for a moment, debating how to touch the topic before deciding to bluntly ask, “How did you find me? I couldn’t say much to you on the phone.”

He grew rigid instantly, and for a second I mentally reprimanded myself for asking such an uncomfortable question.

“You were unconscious on the bathroom floor in your office…” He narrated, his eyes fixated on the view outside the car window. “...Your mouth was covered in stains of blood.” He gulped before turning to me, “For a second I thought you were a vampire.” He attempted to joke.

I rolled my eyes before looking away, hating myself for showing him a sight filled with gore.

“Not so soon.” I tagged along before turning serious, “That has never happened before.”

“I know. Which is why we’re heading to the doctor’s.”

“All morning I thought things were alright with me. Everything in control. I really wanted to prove you wrong by showing this was nothing but the pregnancy kicking in.” I confessed, a tear rolling down my cheek.

“I really wanted to be proven wrong.” Another tear joined as I looked up at him, my lower lip tormented between my teeth.

“I don’t know what to think or feel anymore.” I admitted in defeat.

His warm hands held my cold, almost purple ones as he reassured, “Neither do I. But I’m here for you.”

I cautiously smiled at him, guarding my heart as I confirmed, “As my babymate?”

His lips quivered for a second before settling with, “As your babymate.”


----------


I pushed a strand of wavy chestnut hair behind my ear as I waited anxiously in my seat. Beyond the desk in front of me rested an empty chair tilted to one side, just moments after Dr. Flowers left to attend an emergency. Beside me, Damon wore a look of resentment, his jaw clenched, craving to relieve some of the pent up anger with a few words of profanity. More towards the doctor. A little towards me too, for asking her to attend to her other patient.


Deciding it was pointless to pacify him when he was this livid, I diverted my attention to my surroundings. The walls around her average sized cabin had been painted a tranquil shade of lavender, adorned with pictures of adorable babies wrapped up in soft blankets. One section of the room remained hidden behind curtains. Her desk held a few files on one edge, a picture frame on the other. A name plate reflected her name and profession towards the front of her desk.


Realizing I had nothing more to do other than waiting for this silence to engulf me, I spoke, “It was an emergency, Damon.”

“What makes you think this isn’t, Elena?” He protested with fervor, making my breath stall in the middle of my throat.

“You really think this could be that serious?” I fearfully asked, the back of my mind reprimanding me for voicing such a lame question.

He leaned in as his shoulders slumped, “I don’t know. But I can’t help fearing the worst. And I don’t want this for you.”

“I guess it’s not up to us to decide.” I shrugged with conviction. “We’ll take things as they come.”

He smiled at my tenacity, a grin filled with pride, “We will.”

I felt my heart swell with warmth at his words. The door to Dr. Flowers’ cabin finally opened, as a lady in a white lab coat entered.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Salvatore.” She apologized sincerely before readjusting herself in her seat. Her hair short and swept up in curls, the wrinkles on her face indicating her fifties like age, her smile ever so reassuring, her fingers interlaced on the desk in front of her.

“How’s Katherine? And the little one?” A pang of something pierced through my chest at the question while Damon curtly responded, “They’re fine, thanks.”

Reverting back to me, he introduced, “This is... she’s a…” Ex-girlfriend. Lover. A girl with a complicated past. “...friend.”


Friend. Nothing could be more of an understatement.


Dr. Flowers’ brown eyes shifted to mine and I smiled, “Hi, I’m…” I debated for a few seconds before resoluting, “Meredith Bancroft.”

From the corner of my eye, I spotted a sly smile. “Nice to meet you, Meredith. Tell me, how can I help you.”

I took a deep breath before explaining, “I’m five weeks pregnant. I’ve been experiencing the usual symptoms - nausea, morning sickness, cramps. But I’ve been going through something odd too. I tend to feel dizzy quite often, to the point where I end up fainting. I find it hard to breathe, quite difficult to speak too. And this morning I vomited blood.” I looked away, unable to cope up with the memories of every incident.

She jotted down every detail on her notepad before asking, “How are you feeling now?”

I exhaled a hysterical breath, “A little jittery. But things are under control.”

“Vomiting is common, but fainting seemed alarming.” Damon pressed and the obstetrician nodded in thought.

“Let’s start with a general check-up.” She instructed, sliding up from her chair before querying, “Do you want your friend to stay here for your ultrasound?”

I looked up at Damon, finding his orbs mirroring the fear I had in my own. Something so simple held a deep meaning. The lines of cordial friendship we had drawn between us had infrequently blurred in the past few days, but allowing something this emotionally intimate would make it harder to demarcate. 


I tried to read his expression, wondering what he wanted to do. I didn’t want to force him into this awkward situation. I didn't want to disrupt this sense of familiarity that was slowly brimming between us. His face remained unfathomable and I urged myself to think practically. We could be professional about this. He was my babymate, he had the right to know about the health of my baby and I had the obligation to share. No feelings attached. Only to abide by the terms of the contract.


“Yes please, if you don’t mind.” I answered, instantly relaxing at seeing a revived smile on his face.

“Please follow me.” Dr. Flowers led us past a string of blue curtains to a hospital bed attached with a few machines and a screen.

I lay on the bed while Damon mounted on the tool to my left. Without uttering the words, he encompassed my numb hand in his warm ones, his blue eyes boring into mine with such generous intensity, “Don’t worry. I’m here.”

I nodded silently, appalled at how he still understood without conveying my feelings. It was as if that unfortunate night never separated us.

The obstetrician lifted my top, suddenly making me aware of what I was about to reveal. He still held onto my hand, ebbing away any insecurities I had within. After smearing a lump of cool gel onto my lower abdomen that instantly tickled, she smiled with eagerness, “Ready?”

I watched her take a small wand-like object in her hand, turned my head to find my babymate nodding with an air of confidence. Reciprocating his glance, I repeated, “Ready.”

She hovered the transducer over my belly as I held my breath, waiting for the screen to ignite. And there it was, as small as a seed of an orange, echoing consistent sounds around the room.

“There it is. And that’s it’s heartbeat.” She pointed at the little dot on the screen while I let realization dawn upon me.


There was a baby growing inside of me.


Confirming a pregnancy test and seeing the first signs of a baby were two completely different feelings. I could now relate to that claim. I could feel the adrenaline of happiness surge through me, could feel positivity radiate from every cell of my being. I was truly pregnant and this was really going to happen.


I looked over to Damon passing an equally surprised look. His hand tensed over mine at hearing it’s heartbeat. Only when he met my eye did he pass a look so earnest it made me want to weep in elation. It was then that I realized this was meant to be. This could have been our future had we not broken up. This could have been our child, Damon could have been more than just a babymate, more than just a ‘friend’.


I took a deep breath, heavily guarding these feelings within me before shifting my focus to the doctor. She looked slightly perturbed, as if pondering upon something. I mimicked her frown, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes the baby is fine.” She answered hastily, before wiping up the gel. I sat upright the next second, the fear growing within me with every minute of silence she prevailed. She came back with a stethoscope in hand as I watched the lines on her forehead deepen with every breath I took.

“Meredith…” She began, “I need you to get an ECG done.”

“Is everything alright, Doc?” Damon voiced my fears as I waited with bated breaths.

“Just for validation. Take a left turn down the corridor, first room on your right.” She handed me a paper and I felt my happiness slowly dissipate.


An echocardiography test. Something wasn’t right.


----------  


Mystic Falls Hospital was the most daunting place on Earth. 


At least that’s what it felt like as we walked back down an empty corridor leading to Dr. Flowers’ room. My visit to the ECG room had been relatively similar. The staff had prepared for an ultrasound test. A nurse had rubbed some cool gel just over my heart. A wand like device had hovered over that organ, capturing images before sending them to my obstetrician.


Only this time there were no surges of happiness. There were no smiles in glee. There was no Damon holding my hand. All that remained was a stifling tension while I complied in anticipation.


Damon accompanied me in complete silence when we walked back into the doctor’s cabin. He looked to have a flurry of raging thoughts swarming in his head, but he refused to let out any. If this was for the better or for the worse, I didn’t know.


When I entered her cabin, I found Dr. Flowers engrossed in what appeared to be my reports. I quietly took my seat, patiently waiting for someone to break the silence.

She finally did, but with a question I had least expected, “Have you ever had rheumatic fever, Ms. Bancroft?”

Damon looked at me for a response, wondering whether I had contracted with some sort of specific fever. It was a name I had heard for the first time, nor could I recall. “No.”

She frowned for a second before releasing a breath, “I guess this is a rare case then.”

“What’s wrong?” Damon persisted, unable to survive the suspense any longer.

“I’m afraid you have been diagnosed with mitral stenosis, Meredith.” 

My brows furrowed in confusion before she explained, “It’s a heart condition.” Breath escaped my lungs at the mention.

She took out a diagram, “There are four chambers in your heart, as you’re aware. The lower two are responsible for pumping blood that is then received by the other two. There are four heart valves too, that allow blood flow. Here’s the mitral valve.” She pointed at a valve opening on the left side of the organ.

“This valve doesn’t open fully for you, preventing blood flow into your left atrium - the main pumping chamber of your heart. It’s the lack of proper blood flow that’s making you faint in exhaustion. It’s why you coughed up blood today.” 

Whatever blood I had left in my system surely had left my face, for I could feel the paleness spread over me.

“How is this possible though? She’s never had any problems before.” Damon countered when I had been rendered speechless.

“She had been an asymptomatic patient and rare one too. Rheumatic fever tends to be the primary cause of mitral stenosis, but she was never affected with it. It seems to me that she was born with a narrow valve. The effects are visible now due to the increased pressure on the heart from pregnancy.”


A rare case. A heart condition. The added burden of pregnancy. What could be worse?


“Her child isn’t affected by this. Not at this stage, not very likely to either. It’s the mother that’s under risk.” I finally looked up, my heart sagging in relief that the baby was well. It was the only thing that seemed to matter now.

“What risk?” Damon asked anyways.

“This heart condition is common in pregnant women, more so because of the increased heart rate during this period. Those with mild symptoms generally deliver the baby in good health, but those with moderate or severe levels might be at a greater risk, especially in the second trimester, when your heart rate increases. You might not survive the intense period of delivery, Meredith.” Her voice reduced to a sympathetic whisper, making me gasp.

“There has to be a way out.” Damon protested with fervor, the strain in his voice evident of the urgency.

Her lips twitched into a thin line, probably trying to extract a reaction out of me, only in vain. I was too numb to respond, too shocked to express.

She scribbled something on a piece of paper from her notepad, “It’s too soon to detect the level of severity. I’ve written down a few general beta-blockers that can help control your heart rate.”

Damon grasped the paper with an obedient nod, while Dr. Flowers passed me a sympathetic look, finally grabbing my attention, “Meredith, I don’t want you to lose hope, please. While these medicines are a temporary treatment to see how your body deals with it, there’s nothing an operation won’t fix if things go wrong. Mitral stenosis is common in pregnant women, and so is its cure.”

“How common?” I finally found my voice.

She sighed before answering, “Around 70%; 20% of patients are detected with severe symptoms with low curability rates.”

“What if these medicines don’t work?”

“We’ll consider an operation sometime during your fourth month, Meredith.” She assured me and I managed a weak smile.

I didn’t want to smile. I did not want to bask in the happiness that there was a chance I would survive this pregnancy. I thought the regular hormonal changes would be difficult to tolerate. Never had I imagined my heart to become a burden on me. It hurt too much.

“I need to get some fresh air, please.” I pleaded with austerity, wanting to get out as soon as possible.

“I’ll fill in all the necessary documents and meet you outside in a minute.” Damon informed.

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” He asked in concern, wondering I’d break apart.

Did he not know?

“I’m used to handling things alone.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s true.” He slumped defeatedly on the other side of the closed door.

No sooner had he come back from work had we exchanged awkward pleasantries before he shut our bedroom door. Least to say, things hadn’t been very smooth since my treacherous act that night. More so after our heated argument last week following my recklessness in public.

“It wouldn’t be if you let someone in.” I tried.

I could hear him slump to the ground, “I did. I’m repenting my mistake.” 

It hurt. It hurt hearing how broken he sounded. It hurt knowing I had torn him into pieces.

“I’m sorry.” I meekly apologized, the words slowly becoming a reflex.

“Don’t.”

“Why not?

“Because it hurts not knowing what to say to that.”

My heart skipped a beat at how ostracized I had made him. As if life hadn’t been cruel to him already, I had just added myself to that list.

“I didn’t know what to do, Damon.” I began.

“You don’t need to justify again, Elena. I heard it the first time.” He retorted, reminding me of our heartfelt confessions a few days ago.

“You said you had forgiven me.” I whispered, not trying to hurtle him with accusations. This wasn’t going to be easy. We both knew that.

“I’m trying to. I really am.” He sighed with a defeated breath.

My legs wobbled to the ground, my palm touching the door to get as close to him as possible, “I know. Let me help you. Tell me what you’re thinking.” I pleaded.

He seemed to reluctantly agree, “It’s difficult to erase that night out of my head. No matter how much I try.” My face contorted in pain at the desperation in his voice.

“I can’t seem to focus on anything. And that’s exactly what my father looks for. A chance to let me down.”

I shifted closer to the door, suddenly livid of Giuseppe Salvatore. “I hate that man.”

He chuckled humorlessly, “I know you do.”

“How could he be so cruel towards his own son?” I questioned rhetorically.

The answer was on the tip of his tongue, “Guess he never considered me his own.”

I gulped in guilt, knowing that was a comment aimed at me too. I lowered my gaze, not being able to face the door that guarded him on the other side.

“I did too, Damon. But then, you were so happy and I--”

“You couldn’t trust me enough to share your fears.” He completed, rage lacing his tone.

“I feared I’d lose you.” My voice wavered at my biggest fear.

“So you drove me away.” He berated.

“How do I fix this?” I muttered helplessly. I would give anything in the world to get back what we had before the night that ruined us both and the love between us.

“You give me some time. To deal with all of this. To accept it.”

“And to truly forgive me for what I did.” I proposed with lingering hope.

“Yes.” He agreed while I shook away the tears urging to fall down.

“Okay.” I spoke as I got up, “If time is what you want…”

“It’s what I need.” He emphasized, making my heart ache more than it already was.

Caressing the wooden door, I apologized, “I never wanted it to be this way.”

“I guess we never had a choice.” I shrugged when he said the words.

“Elena…” He attempted when I noticed the difference in his tone. 

Pity. 

For me, for what my life had become. For my terribly weak heart and even weaker soul. This isn’t what I wanted from him. This isn’t what I needed. And so I bit my lip atrociously, forcing the tears to succumb to my threats before turning around to face him, “Don’t, Damon.”

Before he could say anything else, I instructed, “I’ve called for my driver and I’ll be heading home.”

“Okay, I’ll come with you--”

“No.”

He frowned, “No?”

“My driver will be here any moment now. I would like a copy of the receipt for today’s hospital visit.”

“It’s really no--”

“I can pay for myself, Damon.” I pressed.

“I’ll have it emailed to you.” He gave a curt nod. No matter how stern his face looked, his eyes jolted me into a wave of emotions. I wanted to succumb to his prying gaze, cry my eyes out, fall in his embrace into a deep slumber filled with darkness. Life seemed hopeless, after all.


But I couldn’t. Not when he had nothing but pity for me.


So I took out my pair of sunglasses from my purse, hiding my eyes that were seconds away from pooling. Clearing my throat, I continued, “Thank you. I’ll call you if there are any emergencies.”

“Elena, I’m coming over right now.” He persisted.

“No, your family needs you right now. I’ll see you on Monday.” I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“And you?”

“I told you. I’m used to handling things alone.” I reprimanded my heart for breaking at those words.

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep my strong facade any longer, I turned on my heel, my shoes clicking with tenacity as I started walking towards my car.

“Don’t run away from this, Elena.” A tear slipped past my eye and I shuddered when he reached up to me.

Looking at him through my sunglasses, I reminded, “Once you had asked me for some time, Damon. Now, I’m asking you for some space.” His head lowered in defeat, his shoulders sagging simultaneously. 


Unable to see his misery still, I walked away, teary eyed and a crushed soul.


 

 


 




 

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