Gentlemen Don't Ask Questions

I felt like a hen on a hot tin roof. I couldn't sit still, I couldn't breathe, I just needed to get Isabelle out of that room. It was too sudden to make such a massive decision, the procedure hadn't even been carried out and already I was regretting it. I leapt out of the chair, the steel legs making a horrible screeching noise on the tiles, and quickly marched over to the door that Isabelle had disappeared through.

"Sir, where are you going? The bathrooms are in the opposite direction."

I ignored the voice and banged my fist against the door. I've never felt this sense of urgency before, I felt like I was going to pass out.

"Sir, you can't go in there," a nurse came up behind me as I roughly jiggled the door handle, trying to open the locked door.

"My girlfriend's in there, I have to get her out."

"I'm sorry, but-"

She was cut off when the door opened, my fist was hovering mid air, about to knock it.

"I'm so sorry, Dr Moore, but he wouldn't listen to me. Should I get security?"

"It won't be necessary. Thank you," she gave the nurse a look that said 'go away', before turning to me with softer eyes.

"Gerard I presume?"

"Yes?" I replied cautiously, that feeling of urgency slowly morphing into fear.

"Come in," she tilted her head to the side and stepped back, letting me enter the room.

I probably looked like a madman, my eyes frantically scanning the room before they settled on Isabelle sitting on a bed in the corner. She was crying without making any noise, and that scared the hell out of me.

"Isabelle? Is everything okay?"

"You don't want me to go through with it? You want to keep it?" she asked me, still looking down at her knees.

I paused for a few seconds, trying to get all of the different voices to shut up in my head, before I gave a weak nod, even though she wasn't looking at me.

"I-I think so," I stammered.

She groaned lowly as she brought her arms up and held her head in her hands. I quickly moved over to her, sitting on the bed and wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

"I promise I'll do everything I possibly can to help you-"

"Gerard," Dr Moore pulled her chair up beside us and sat down,
"Isabelle lost the baby."

My head snapped back over to look at Isabelle, my heart thumping even harder when she still wouldn't bring her eyes up to meet mine.

"Already? You had the abortion already?" I asked stupidly.

So fucking naive.

"No, she had a miscarriage," Dr Moore spoke softly.

I stared blankly back at her for what felt like an eternity, my brain knowing what the word meant yet still not allowing it to register with me, begging her for an explanation. I could see her eyes scanning my face, trying to read me, and after I realised that she wasn't going to speak until I did, I turned to look down at Isabelle. She had stopped crying at this stage, I don't think she had any more tears left in her, and she finally dragged her green eyes up to connect with me. I swallowed thickly when I saw how broken she looked, and I don't think I could have hated myself anymore at that moment.

"I don't understand," I finally managed to get out, pulling Isabelle closer to me.

I was in a world of my own as she explained everything to me, only taking in the odd bit of important information. She had lost the baby at six weeks, it was a common thing in women during their first pregnancy. It doesn't necessarily mean that there is anything wrong with her, it just happens, it can't be explained.

"If a woman has a high level of stress in her life, it can affect the pregnancy too. If you knew that you were going to abort it, the stress of that and the possibility that maybe you weren't looking after yourself as well as you should could have led to the miscarriage."

Isabelle let out a shaky sob at that, and started crying all over again. I've never wanted to hit a woman as much as I wanted to right then.

"Wrong thing to say," I ground out through clenched teeth as I clutched Isabelle tighter to me.

She apologised, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she cleared her throat, before telling us what needed to be done next. D&A. The minute she started to describe to Isabelle what would be done, how her uterus would needed to be scraped out, I stopped listening. I couldn't cope with that, and I started sweating profusely as Dr Moore prattled on and Isabelle grew more and more tense.

"I can perform it here, or you can check into hospital or go to your GP. I'd recommend getting it done as soon as possible-"

"I'll get it done now," Isabelle interrupted her,
"My parents can't know that I was pregnant."

She gave her a sympathetic smile, before telling her that she'd send a nurse in to prep her, and told me that I had to leave. I gave Isabelle a tight hug, kissing her neck as she clung to me.

"I'm so sorry, Isabelle. This is all my fault."

"I can't talk about it right now," she gave me a weak smile as we pulled away from each other.

Only Isabelle could smile with tears in her eyes. It was heart breaking. I gave her one last kiss before I left the room, Dr Moore close on my heels. She explained to me what I should expect and how to look after Isabelle for the next couple of days. She gave me the number of a counsellor, advising us to go.

"Not just to help Isabelle get over this, but to help you cope as a couple. It's a traumatic event, for the two of you."

Lady, I ain't the one getting scraped out here...

"Thanks," I mumbled as I took the card off her and slipped it into my wallet.

I sat back down in the waiting room, swallowing back vomit every now and then as I waited for Isabelle. Time seemed to drag and I felt like I had been waiting for her for hours, when realistically it was only forty minutes.

"Gerard?"

I was up like a shot and straight over to the room that Isabelle was in. Dr Moore handed me a prescription for strong painkillers, explained to me once again how to take care of Isabelle, how long we should wait before having sex, and that there were free condoms at reception.

"Good luck," she smiled before letting me take a hold of Isabelle's hand and lead her out of that Godforsaken place.

She was deathly pale, her eyes vacant, and she walked at a slow pace. Once in the car, she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her head against the window and closing her eyes over.

"Are you okay?"

"Can I stay at your place for the night?"

"Of course," I replied softly.

My parents were out of town with my brother for the week, and I had thought it was a given that she stay with me for the entire time. I couldn't just pack her back to her parents in the state that she was in.
I collected her prescription for her before driving home. She wanted to go straight to bed, she was starting to feel the pain of it, and I helped her shimmy her jeans off and get under the covers.

"I fucked everything up for us," she whimpered as she rolled onto her side, grasping the sides of the pillow.

I gently laid down beside her, taking care not to make the mattress bounce, and softly kissed her cheek.

"You could never fuck this up, Isabelle. Not even if you tried."

She sniffled, letting me loosely wrap my arms around her. While I knew that the relationship wouldn't go in reverse because of this, I still couldn't see how it would move forward.