A random 3am wake up has somehow left me with the urge to update. It's going to get a bit messy, but enjoy!
Arizona's POV
Eliza needs me, I get that, I do, but who uses sex to deflect from a situation. Who uses, jumping into bed, as a way of forgetting what is going on around them. I understand, she had a patient, a patient that abused his family. That she had to save, with Amelia. And they did, they did save him. He is going to be fine, albeit in prison, but fine all the same. They did their job, even if they didn't want to. Even though it was hard. I understand. But however much I love Eliza, sex for deflection, I don't agree with it. I don't agree with her using me to forget, not like that. She needs to talk and she needs to open up. I'm there for that, in a heartbeat. Honestly, I am. But I won't be used.
Maybe I shouldn't have left her sat in that closet the way I did. But she kind of hurt me and it was the only thing I could think to do to make her see. Yes, I could take my own advice and talk to her. I should have taken my own advice, but instead I left her sat there. Returning to my office to do paperwork and hide. I left my girlfriend crying, alone, hurting. What have I done? I need to find Eliza. I should never have left her alone in there. She needed me and I shut her down, all because I felt used. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I text her. I need to know she's ok. She's probably in some hole, drinking herself stupid though. I would be by now too.
You still at the hospital? A xx
Sitting at my desk, I stare at my screen, seeing Eliza has read my message. I wait, five, ten, fifteen minutes. With no reply. She isn't going to, I can already sense that. I try again, I need to see her. And we need to go home. Get away from here, together.
Please Eliza, let me know where you are? A xx
Deciding, I should at least go and change whilst I wait for some sort of response from my girlfriend. I shut the computer down, locking up my office, I head to the attendings lounge. I enter the room, and thankfully it's empty. The last thing I need right now, is running into someone, whose opinion I don't want. Checking my phone, still nothing. I sit on the couch, taking in the last few hours, for a minute. I lost my patient, the son, Michael Thomas, an eight year old boy. A boy who, so young, had already experienced events in his life, that no one should have to. He died on my table, and because of everything Eliza is going through, I don't get to feel that pain. The pain of losing someone, I pushed it down, pushed it down to help her. And I messed that up as well.
Eliza, come on, please? I want to know you're ok. A xx
Sending another message to my girlfriend. I know, she's in full blown ignoring mode right now. That is clear, and I know I've messed up, but I need to make it right and I need to know she's ok. I need to try, at least. Sighing, I pull myself back to my feet and go about changing. It feels like forever since I left Eliza in that storage closet. In reality, it's only been two and a half hours. We should have been out of here and on our way home, five hours ago. But here I am, still here. I'm exhausted, beyond tired, and I want nothing more than to get my girlfriend and go home with her.
I change, as quickly as I can, sliding my phone into my back pocket when I'm ready. Grabbing my keys and my purse, I head out. Yes, I'm worried about my girlfriend, but if she won't talk to me, what can I do? She's a fully grown adult, I can not make her talk to me, however much I want her to. I wish I could, it would help her so much, maybe not in the beginning, but definitely in the long run, it would help her.
As I exit the hospital, moving towards the parking lot, I spot my girlfriend, sat on a bench. As I approach her, I notice the brown paper bag sat next to her. It's glass bottle contents, evident. I know now, I really shouldn't have left her sat in that supply closet. Sitting down next to Eliza, I place my hand on her back, gently stroking it, trying to soothe her. Her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands. Turning her face towards me, our eyes meet. My girlfriends, full of sadness. And honestly, in this moment, I don't know how to help her. I want to, but how?
"Sorry, about earlier." Eliza says to me, to me? She's apologising, to me?
"I'm the one that should be sorry babe, I shouldn't have left you there, alone, upset. I should have been there for you. I'm sorry." I say, my words, sincere.
"No, you did nothing wrong. You removed yourself from a situation you were uncomfortable with. I get that." Eliza responds, that sad smile still playing on her lips. And right now, I want nothing more than to make her forget. To take her home and do, whatever it takes, to forget all about the day, forget about Andrew, forget about her pain. Anything it takes to forget it all. But I won't, because in the long run, the only thing that's going to help her, is opening up, whether that's with me, or a therapist she needs to open up. To talk, to let it out.
"Come home with me, come on." I prompt Eliza, helping her stand, which I realise is possibly the best decision I've made all day as she nearly collapses on the floor. Due to a combination of exhaustion and alcohol. My arm around my girlfriend, supporting her, we make our way to my car.
Helping my drunk ass girlfriend into the passenger seat, I buckle her in and shut the car door. As much as I want to be angry with her for getting drunk right now? I understand the need, the overwhelming urge. And with her past, I'm guessing, there's worse things she could have been doing than getting drunk. I'm glad she isn't wandering the streets or in a ditch though. At least this way, she's coming home with me. Even if I have to help her walk.
I climb in the drivers side, inserting the key and start the ignition. Eliza, already passed out asleep next to me. I roll my eyes, not because she's drunk, or even because she's passed out, but because, somehow, when we get home, I have to wake her up to get her in the house.
Hit review, please. Much love x