She was the chosen one. There was no turning back. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't face it … or rather she couldn't face him.
Serena opened her eyes to bright, florescent lights and squinted. The artificial light was making her skin grow paler as the days continued on. She glanced down at the IV tube injected into her arm. The machines beeping beside her conducted a gloomy type of orchestra that she wished she could get rid of. She was stronger than this and everyone knew it, but no one wanted to acknowledge it. "Little Bunny" as her mother titled her due to her adorable hairstyle which was now frazzled in all sorts of directions.
There was a light knock at the door. Serena whipped her head over and discovered that it was her doctor. He was tall with pitch black hair, piercing eyes, and a strong chin to match. She smiled weakly at him and nodded a little as if to say hello.
"How are we feeling today?" he asked with concerned eyes but a broad smile.
The iconic doctor "we" made Serena cringe a little but she quickly turned it into a nonchalant shrug, "I guess I'm doing alright. I feel fine."
"Physically you're in tip-top shape," he said as he flipped through his charts, "but what I'm concerned about is your emotional state."
"Look, I know I should be weeping and all that, but-"
"Serena, there is no correct way to react to this type of trauma."
She scoffed at the choice of words used to describe her condition. Trauma. Trauma was when you were raped in a dark alley, screaming for help and no one coming to your rescue. Trauma was when you think you're going to die because your husband has pummeled your face in so deep that you can't see. Trauma wasn't when the fetus you didn't even want decided to die half way through its first term. No, that wasn't trauma – that was relief. She didn't want that thing growing inside her. She would have rather aborted it if it wasn't for the press, the awful in-laws and the money she would have been kept away from. Every moment was about survival, that much was true.
"I'm not ever going to be upset over this nor will I ever force tears down my face just so you can release me Dr. Shields," she said bluntly. "I'm not a normal woman. I've been through worse."
"Please, call me Darien. And I know you're not normal. Most women would have had to have or would have requested for a psychiatric session. But there are select few much like yourself who don't feel it necessary. It's all about personal choice with this process," he explained calmly.
'It's the only time I've ever had personal choice in years…' she thought.
"When can I leave?" Serena asked.
"If you'd like to leave today, you're more than welcome to. You would have to call whoever you would like in order to pick you up, you'd have to fill out the discharge forms, and of course you'd have to say goodbye to me," he grinned.
Serena furrowed her brow as she wondered whether or not he was flirting with her. Her eyes darted down to his hands that were folded over her charts; there was a tan line over his wedding finger. She let out a relieved breath at the sight and smiled back at him.
"Well Mr. Shields –"
"Darien," he corrected.
"Mr. Shields," she repeated sharply, "thank you for all you've done these past few days. I really appreciate it."
"It's my job Serena; I wouldn't have it any other way. Here…" Darien handed her a pamphlet on what to do after having a miscarriage. It included bolded tips such as waiting for a whole menstrual cycle before trying to conceive again and knowing that a woman can get pregnant again after having a miscarriage. She knew all of this information and then some because he went through the lecture with her yesterday. It looked at the glossy booklet with contempt before averting her gaze back to her doctor. He stepped toward Serena and handed her a card with a number scribbled on the back, "Please call me in case you need anything. Anything at all."
She nodded to him and forced a smile on her lips. He held her gaze for a moment and then backed out of the hospital room, her home for only a few more hours. She sighed as she pulled her cell phone into her clutches and typed in her friend and sister-in-law Mina's number, "Hey… I feel fine. Yeah … yeah the doctor said I could leave. Dr. Sh – erm Darien as he asked me call him – said I could leave today once I finish the necessary paper work. Can you com get me? … Okay…. Yeah and bring me some clothes to change in to. Thanks. Be safe. See you soon."
Serena closed her phone and wiped the slick screen with her thumb. Her eyes scanned the card in her other hand; her fingertips grazed the indent from the ballpoint pen Darien used. There was something about him that rubbed her the right way for once. She smirked at her own deranged thoughts. A crush on the doctor? Please…
"You ready?" Mina asked, her eyes scanning Serena's slender frame. "It's pretty bad out there."
"How many reporters followed you?"
"Ten, maybe fifteen," she shrugged.
"Does James know I'm not coming home?"
"Yes and he's not too pleased about it."
"Fuck him."
With that said, Serena finished buttoning up her pea coat and slipped on her black alligator kitten heels. She was dressed to the nines and only because she knew she was going to be photographed a thousand times over. She pushed her designer sunglasses onto her face and nodded to Mina. The two walked out of the hospital room and strutted down the corridor leading to the exit.
"Serena! Mrs. Copeland! Wait!"
She turned around to find none other than he doctor running and maneuvering his way toward her. He bumped into a fellow staffer and apologized under his bated breath before coming to a quick halt in front of the two ladies. As she removed her shades from her eyes, he let out a small nervous laugh and said, "What did I tell you?"
"I'm supposed to say goodbye," she grinned as the words fell from her lips slowly. She never thought he was serious. "I apologize for leaving so quickly. Word has gotten out that I'm leaving the hospital so I wanted to go before the hordes of reporters crowded the entrance and other real patients couldn't get in."
Darien pursed his lips and wryly, "Serena you are a real patient."
She bit her tongue, knowing that the argument she desperately wanted to start was bubbling within her. Serena waved goodbye to her doctor and turned around, replacing the sunglasses back onto her face. Bracing herself mentally for the flashing bulbs, screaming reporters, and cameras shoved in her face, Serena walked out of the hospital with Mina at her side. The girls were soon joined by two body guards sent by the Copeland establishment. They all forged a path to the black SUV waiting for them and sped off into safety.
"You sure you want to come to my place?" Mina asked. "You might get disowned by my parents. They hate me enough to despise you by association."
"I need a break from the city and your house in the Hamptons is a beautiful place to do just that, don't you think?" Serena replied.
Mina simply exhaled loudly and bit her knuckle as she drove through the back to back traffic. During the long drive, Serena silenced her phone, leaned her head against the cool window and begged her mind to stop thinking about the doctor.