Lonely Conversation
"Hey Babe." Dougie half smiled, trembling as he took his girlfriends hand in his, bringing it to his lips, kissing each knuckle individually. His eyes, empty of emotion, attempted to drink in her features. He sighed and interlocked his fingers with hers, chewing on his lower lip when he felt a familiar lump in his throat. "Doctor says you're improving." His voice wavered a little. "It's been six months. I expect improvement with how much I'm paying these guys." The attempt at a joke didn't seem to ease the atmosphere.
"Gabz?" Dougie sank in to a whisper, leaning over and speaking softly in to her ear. "You know I love you, don't you?"
The young woman made no reply. Her eyes closed, her hair in an untidy tangle against the pillow, she merely looked like she was in a deep slumber. Oh, it was deep alright. Her skin had taken on a pale complexion since being admitted to The Sunshine Community Private Ward. She'd always liked the light tan she'd inherited from her fathers side of the family.
"You know, I'm never going to let you drive again." Dougie remarked, using his free hand to wipe at the tears that had begun to fall. "And I know you can hear me, Bri. So don't go using any lame excuse when you wake up, like, "I don't remember.' Cause it won't work."
He smiled a little, giving her hand a small squeeze. He knew this situation was far from ideal, that for the last six and a half months he'd practically been having a relationship with a ghost. But it was moments like this that gave him the greatest comfort. Simply being in her presence gave him a sense of hope and a feeling of the future. His future. Their future.
"I brought another picture with me." He piped up. He hated being silent for too long when he was with her. Usually he had trouble getting a word in edgeways, now he spoke for the both of them. "It's of Molly. She can stand now, all on her own." Dougie took a deep breathe to calm himself down. "I even have a special message from her. She wouldn't let me leave the house without the thing. You'll love it, Gabz."
He delved in to his jacket pocket, grasping at the photograph and small Dictaphone tightly. He placed the device on Gabrielle's pillow, making sure it wasn't too close to her ear. He clicked a small button and smiled upon hearing his daughters voice as he stared down at the picture in his hands. The three year old, standing tall with her hands on her hips, her mousey blonde hair in two bunches high up on the sides of her head.
"Come on Mols, what do you want to say to mommy?" He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat beginning to hurt. "I want please you come home to."
Dougie let out a small giggle hearing his daughter mispronounce her sentence. At the age of three she'd already inherited the speech impediment her mother sometimes still struggled with.
"You have to wake up soon, Hunny." He spoke. "I know you like to sleep, but you don't need that beauty rest anymore. You never did. Besides, I'm going to take you dancing as soon as you're well enough. For our anniversary. Only two months away now, Gabz. Two months and it'll be six years." He blu-tacked the picture to the cupboard beside her bed, next to the flowers he's brought her yesterday, and picked up the Dictaphone again. "I need to pick Molly up from your mums. I'll be back again tomorrow, babe." He let out a short sharp sob that he couldn't contain any longer . This was always how the visit ended. "And then I go on tour, so I'll be gone for a month or two. But your mum will be in here. She'll bring Molly as well." He leant over the bars over the bed and placed a kiss on his girlfriends lips. "I guess I need you to think over something while I'm gone." His hands shook with nerves. "You have a question to answer when you wake up." A small ring was slid on to a finger on Gabrielle's left hand.
"I love you." Unable to take the atmosphere any longer, Dougie made a hasty exit from the room, not sticking around to even notice the movement in his girlfriends bed. The small female groan being heard above the heart monitors, a bejewelled hand, still tingling from the touch of a loved one, gripping the bed covers hard.
"Doug?"