Needing to get this shit done and over with, I grab the papers from her hand. I take a pen from the breast pocket of my dress shirt and fill out Tess’ details. When I get to a section where it asks if she’s on any medication, I remember the pills scattered over the restroom’s floor.
Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I dial Helena’s number.
“Nikolas? What happened? Is Tess okay? Where are you?”
“Is Tess on any kind of medication?” I bark the question out.
“Ah… Xanax for anxiety.”
What the fuck?
I write the information down, hand the papers to the nurse, then pay attention to the call I’m on. “I’m at the hospital. They’re working on Tess. Irene attacked her.”
“What?” Helana gasps. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure!”
“Theè mou… Theè mou… Theè mou…,” she repeatedly rambles God, shock evident in her tone.
“Why is Theresa on medication for anxiety? For how long?” I demand. I wasn’t even aware of this, and it doesn’t sit well with me.
There should be no secrets between us.
“After her father passed, Theresa had some problems dealing with the loss. It led to anxiety attacks. She also can’t handle confrontations, so the medication helps keep her calm.”
Jesus.
All the times I threatened Tess flash through my mind. How many of those fucking pills did she take because of me?
Every time she flinched away from me…
When she tensed up…
The fear in her eyes when she looked at me…
Guilt rears its ugly head.
“I’ll be in touch,” I mutter before ending the call.
Standing in the middle of a hall in the fucking hospital, I realize there’s a lot about Theresa I don’t know. She never opened up to me, which means the hope I had of her falling in love with me was… just fucking hope. During the past weeks, when I hopelessly lost my heart to her, she kept a firm grip on her own, refusing to let me in.
Fuck.
And I can’t blame her after the way I treated her.
I suck in a breath of air, an itchiness spreading beneath my skin.
I was the only one under the false illusion that we were happily married the past two weeks.
Chapter 32
Nikolas
The waiting is killing me. It’s the worst form of torture I’ve ever endured.
Andreas is sipping on shitty hospital coffee. He glances at me, then murmurs, “I’m sure she’ll be okay.”
“She better be,” I grumble, the need to take revenge and end Irene warring with my need to stay close to Tess. I just need to talk to the doctor and see Tess, then I’ll deal with Irene.
When a doctor walks into the waiting room, I shoot up from the chair I was sitting in. “How’s my wife?”
He gestures for me to follow him. “We have Mrs. Stathoulis comfortable in a private room. Even though she took a hard blow to the head, it doesn’t look like there’s any brain injury. The wounds will take some time to heal, though, and we’ll only be sure she’s okay once she regains consciousness.”
I’m led into the private room, and seeing Tess between stark white sheets and an IV inserted in the back of her hand, my heart constricts painfully.
Jesus.
As always, the need to touch her overwhelms me. Coming to a stop next to the bed, I lean over Tess and press a tender kiss on her cheek. There’s a bandage around her head, her skin clear of all the blood.
“There were blows to Mrs. Stathoulis's left side and lower back, but no bones were broken. The bruising will fade, but she might feel tender for a couple of days.”
What?
My eyes flick to the doctor as he comes to stand on the other side of the bed. “Due to the nature of Mrs. Stathoulis’ injuries, we had to call the police.” He looks over the papers in his hands. “The scans showed multiple healed fractures. It looks like there’s a history of abuse.”
“What?” I manage to ask, struggling to process what I’m hearing. “What do you mean… a history?”
“There are healed fractures on her arm and ribs.”
Just then, Helena rushes into the hospital room, and my dark glare falls on her. She comes to a stop near the doctor, glancing between us. “Theè mou, my baby. How’s Theresa? Is she okay?” She looks at her daughter then takes a trembling breath. Pushing past the doctor, she brushes her fingers over Tess’ bandaged forehead. “I can’t believe Irene would do this.”
“She didn’t,” I grind the words out because the last thing I need is the doctor getting the information and him passing it onto the police. When Helena’s lips part, I snap, “Shut up.”
The doctor glances between us, and I turn my attention back to him. “What else?”
“Besides the old fractures and the fresh wounds, Mrs. Stathoulis should make a full recovery with a lot of rest.”