"Unnnnnnnnnnnngh."

With a groan I stretched my arms out above my head and shifted to a more comfortable position in the rather uncomfortable chair. I've spent the last two days sitting here in this hospital room keeping an eye on the woman in the bed in front of me, hoping to be the first thing she sees when she finally wakes up.

It's been a long two days, trust me. After the paramedics got Audrey onto the stretcher, they rushed her to the hospital, about 15 minutes away. The ride was extremely stressful; I couldn't tell them much about what she had been doing before I found her on the floor, but I was able to deduce that she had been in the midst of a coke bender. This was unusual, even for Audrey. While she talks a big game about getting 'fucked up on everything and anything', she rarely touches anything outside of weed and the occasional hit of E and acid. Something happened that made her go completely self destructive.

Once we got to the hospital, the attending doctor explained that they were going to stabilize her and, for the lack of a better term, flush her system clean... she'd be fine physically but they couldn't judge her mental state. The discussion with the doctor was the easiest part.

No, the police were the most difficult.

After spending 2 of what felt like the longest hours in history waiting for the 'All OK' from the doctors, I had spent another few hours just sitting in the chair beside the bed just waiting for her to wake up, move, anything. I had decided after these few hours to go home and try to get some sleep; I no longer had to work the next day (after calling my boss and explaining that my 'girlfriend' had been hospitalized, no exacting details were given), but on my way out the door I had been met by some cops from the city's force.

From the conversation that followed Audrey had, for reasons unknown, had stolen some fairly expensive makeup from a store at the mall, and the security had been searching for her. As they deduced that she had left the mall, they had reviewed the security tapes and from speaking with mall employees and determined her identity. The police were in the process of working up an order to go to our apartment, when the call came in for the ambulance. As we talked, things were starting to come together although I didn't like the answers I was getting to my questions hours earlier. The other hard part was having the cops drive me back home and asking to come into our place; as I realized that Audrey was essentially fucked in this situation, and the cops had a warrant, I couldn't really refuse.

The cops and I spent almost another 2 hours looking through the apartment we had found the stolen merchandise in a bag in the bedroom, and the cops also confiscated all of the drug paraphernalia that Audrey kept in her possession: a few pipes, a small bong, and her small stash of dope. They also assisted in cleaning up the coke that was on the floor (they had special tools to do this with which I found quite interesting).

I couldn't help but ask when the officers were on their way out what was going to happen to Audrey. While she had been a major pain in my ass for the last year and a half I could admit that yes, I loved her, and I was genuinely concerned for her. For Audrey, she was beyond fucked because of this and I worried this would ruin her for the future.

"Well, the store said so long as they get their merchandise back, they're willing to overlook this as long as she never goes back. We'll obviously be looking at charges for drugs, but based on what we've found it will be relatively minor. For now, she needs to be fit to stand trial if needed, so there's no definite answer we can give." While this amounted to no real information, it helped a bit. We live in a fairly dug liberal area, so most drug charges involve rehab and suspended sentences, but still can get fairly heft for the fines.

The night was spend silently sitting in my bed thinking things through. While I sat there I noticed that Audrey's phone had gone off; while silent the screen had lighten up. Curiously, I grabbed the phone and looked at it. It was your typical iPhone, nothing fancy, in a simple case. The more I looked at it the more curious I got. While I knew the passcode (I had to go on there once for her) it was an agreement that we didn't snoop each other's phones. It was just respect, you know?

Deciding that at this point nothing could get any worse, I unlocked the phone and took my first look into Audrey's private world.

The first thing noted was the text she'd received from Nikki: hey whats up? Bored yet lol. Nothing unusual here really, and based on the conversation that preceded this message most of the texts back and forth were your typical texts, mostly plans being made and changed, with the occasional bitchfest about something. I knew being Nikki's friend that she complained about stuff almost as much as Audrey, but her complaints were more normal and expected, whereas Audrey bitched about everything.

Closing that text, I started to scroll through other conversations she had. Most were from dudes, and were completely unread. A fair number (more than 2, I didn't want to verify any others) were requests for sex with an accompanying dickpic. I knew Audrey still sometimes played guys for money and shit, but had verified with a few of our mutual friends that her desire for casual sex was non-existent; she had apparently given it up about the same time we moved in together. I found her conversation with Tiffany, and here I was shocked. Instead of an expected Audrey-esq conversation, her interaction with Tiffany revolved around our relationship.

As I read this, a few things started to come into focus for me. Tiffany was always the one to call or text me about Audrey; Tiffany always told me when she was sick or upset, and always played the mediator in our (not so infrequent) arguments. Everything was in this log: Audrey worrying about our anniversary (coincidentally the day we moved in together), Audrey worrying about if she looked good enough in specific clothes to go out to a meal or something with me, Audrey not sure about Christmas presents… it went on and on. Sure, there were normal conversations here, but a good majority revolved around our relationship. Honestly, it was quite shocking to me as I never had any inkling that Audrey cared that much about us being together; my assumption was that I was convenient and easy to live with; I was now starting to confirm that Audrey wasn't quite sure of how to express herself.

Another conversation I found on the phone interested me beyond anything else:

Kyanna

Audrey hated her, but I never knew why, and Audrey refused to say anything about it. It had gotten to the point that I barely spoke to Kyanna as me doing so upset Audrey more than anything. But the conversation was almost depressing; not only was the number entered under her contact incorrect (and I knew it as the number tied to her cellular tablet that can't actually take texts), but the conversation only contained the same phrase in different permutations:

I'm sorry

I'm so sorry

Sorry

Over and over, message after message, day after day. I recognized some of the dates: My birthday last year when a party was thrown at the local pool hall. Kyanna has shown up, and Audrey lit into her pretty bad. Message was sent at about the time when we would have been heading home. Tiffany's graduation from university. Kyanna had been there, and again her and Audrey got into it.

With a shake of my head I closed the messaging app. I had never really looked at her phone before, and was shocked again to see that her background was a picture of us taken a few months ago. I remembered the occasion was a staff party for Audrey's work. One of her coworkers and friends had taken a picture of us laughing at something while sitting on a couch together. She had one hand on my shoulder and another holding one of mine. It was a very candid and unexpected moment of closeness.

I kept exploring. Her camera mostly contained pictures of dresses and shirts she was designing, plus a few of her and various coworkers at tradeshows… but spread in and around were pictures taken when we were on weekend trips to the beach and to a concert. A few others were of her and Nikki or Tiffany at various times in her life. The very last picture, however, took me a few moments to place: a picture of herself, Tiffany, Nikki, and Kyanna in high school together. Laughing, looking like they were having the time of their lives. I placed Audrey herself at about 17 years old, leaving Nikki to be around 15. Seeing her holding onto Kyanna and having fun made me realize that there was so much more to their terrible relationship than I knew.

I also found a picture of her with an older man and woman, the woman looking like an older version of her: her parents. I stared at this picture for a bit longer, then made a decision that I now realize was a pointless gesture. Going to her contact list, I scrolled through it until I found a listing for "Mom and Dad" and, with a few second pause, tapped the dial button.

I knew very little about Audrey's parents other than they were both fairly successful in business, and had basically given her tuition and board money and sent her on her way to university. With slightly sweaty palms I listened to the dial tone, and it caught after the 4th ring.

"Hello." Not a question, or even a cheerful statement. No, the woman who answered did so in a very mechanical and business like manner.

"Hi… Is this Mrs. Belrose?"

"Oh… Yes. Can I help you with something?"

I knew Audrey's relationship with her parents, particularly her mother, was strained, and if took some careful thought to articulate what I wanted to say

"I'm Audrey's room… I'm Audrey's boyfriend, and I wanted to speak to you about something."

A flat laugh. "Let me guess? The little whore's gotten herself knocked up or drugged out or something and needs my help?"

"Uhh…"

"Well, she had more chances to speak to us normally than we can count, and spends most of those chances either screaming, crying, or begging for money. And wouldn't you know it, the first call I get from her in more than a year is some perfect stranger who wants to speak with me about something. So let me tell you this once, and only once. We're done. Full stop. I'm not sponsoring some drugged up whore's whims this time. She's pissed away more money than anyone could ever need. She wasted an education, and our time, with what to show for it?"

"..."

"Sorry to say, but I haven't got time for this. Good day." and with a final click came the end to the most disheartening 'conversation' I've ever had with anyone. Shaving with both anger and disgust, I tossed her phone onto my dresser and climbed into bed. I was half past 12, and the trip through Audrey's phone had upset me almost as much as the sight of the woman I shared my home with on the floor. As I tried to fall asleep in my cold and lonely bed, I realised something.

I didn't even know the woman I loved.