My Wife, My Man?

Chapter Eight

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs." 1 Corinthians 13: 4-5

"Doctor, do something!" Jack yelled as a nurse ran out of the room Perli lay in.

"Sir, you need to calm down," the doctor advised with hand gestures.

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"Mr. Onel, your wife is going to be alright. All you have to do is to relax and..."

"Doctor!" one nurse came dashing out of the room, her face reflecting with concern.

Jack understood that look. "I thought you said she is going to be alright!" He raged, grabbing the doctor by the collar.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep...

Perli's heartbeat was slow and steady, contrary to his. Overwhelmed by tiredness and sleep, he watched the slow movement of her chest as it rose and fell. When he paid little attention, it appeared as if she wasn't breathing at all. However, it was the audible beeping sound of a ventilator that said otherwise. She was still alive.

4 hours

Four hours had passed, and the fifth was slowly creeping in like the darkness. He was in the same position the doctor had left him, seated next to her with his hands wrapped around hers. Tiredness fought his body, yet he refused to sleep. How could he sleep when she lay motionless on this hospital bed?

"Oh, Perli, I don't know what to do," he confessed to her, knowing that she wasn't going to reply but sure that she could hear him. "What happened to you?"

Her breathing was the only response to his question.

"Why did you do that?" he asked softly, rubbing her hand with his thumb.

"Mister Onel," the doctor acknowledged him as he stepped out of the room where Perli lay.

Jack swiftly stood up from the floor and nervously met the doctor's eyes. "How is she?" he begged to know, rubbing his palm over his jeans. It had been killing him, not knowing how Perli was doing. His heart was slowly dying with uncertainty. He could clearly remember the panic he felt when he heard a sudden thump and turned around just to find her on the floor.

"She's going to be fine, Mr. Onel," the doctor assured him.

Jack sighed with relief at the doctor's words and rested his back against the cold wall.

"She just needs to rest," the doctor continued, "She was having a reaction to a certain medication she has been taking. It didn't help that she took it on an empty stomach. Your wife is suffering from starvation..."

The rest of the words that came out of the doctor's mouth were a blur.

Starvation? The word still whispered in his ears like a gale. It didn't make sense! He couldn't comprehend how she could be starving, while they had more than enough food at the house. She wants to kill herself, that's why! His consciousness affirmed him, and he immediately felt angered. His hand tightened around hers but quickly loosened as she shifted for the first time in many hours. A rhythm of excitement beat in his heart, diminishing the anger he just felt.

"Perli?" he whispered her name, observing how her eyes slowly fluttered open at the sound of his voice.

She groaned. The first thing Perli saw were the two bright lights on the ceiling. The strong but familiar scent of disinfectants and medicine, along with the spine-chilling breeze she felt, immediately told her where she was. Squinting her eyes to the brightness, she weakly squeezed the hand that held onto hers. She turned her gaze to meet Jack's worried face. A faint smile elevated on his lips as he stared back at her.