Page 76 of A Raven Repents

Ash gripped his hand and placed the other on his shoulder. “I’m right here.”

The doctor didn’t move, and the only sound Giles heard was his own ragged breathing. “I’m ready.”

“You need to close your right eye,” Dr. Goodluck instructed. “And keep it closed, so that you don’t pull against the stitches with your left.”

Giles did as he was told, a rush of fear sweeping through him.

“Now, if you’ll lift your head slightly from the pillow, it will be a little bit easier to remove these.”

Slowly, the doctor unwrapped the bandage that was layered in varying directions around his head. That part was easy enough.

“Now, just lie back. I’m going to remove the gauze that’s against your eyelid. This part might hurt.”

He held onto Ash’s hand, desperately hoping to take on some of his strength. It was painful, but the worst part was that once all the gauze was removed, and the pressure against his eyelid was gone, he could feel the void.

He sucked in a breath, suddenly afraid he might be sick.

“We can still sedate you,” the doctor said. “I have a syringe ready.”

“No.” He held his breath for a moment.

Ash rubbed his shoulder. “It’s alright. It won’t take very long.”

“This is the worst part,” the doctor assured him. “Just a bit more ointment, and then I’ll get you wrapped back up.”

But even when he was wrapped up again, he couldn’t seem to let go of how it felt. His eye really was gone. Part of him had still prayed that they were all wrong. But it was gone. He could no longer deny it.

“Thank you, Dr. Goodluck,” Ash said.

“Would you like me to come back and sedate you when you’re ready to sleep tonight?”

Giles shook his head. It was all he could manage while he struggled to hold back a sob.

The door opened and closed, and Ash’s hands never left him. Finally, he lost the battle, and the sob broke through. He sucked in a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to pull his hand away, but Ash wouldn’t let go. Giles was ashamed. Ashamed of his outburst. Ashamed that Ash had to see something so grotesque. Ashamed that he was grotesque.

When he finally opened his eye, Ash was holding a handkerchief. “We don’t want Christina to see your tears when she comes back, or she’ll never let us throw her out again. Would you like me to wipe them? Or do you prefer to do it yourself?”

Shame and guilt left a gaping cavern inside his chest as he reached for the cloth.

He didn’t want Christina to see him this way, and not just because of the tears. He no longer felt worthy to be in her presence. But he knew her well enough to know she would come anyway. And she did, with a smile on her face. She sat down beside him and held up a tart.

“I’m afraid I must apologize. I was unable to resist a little nibble on my way down the hall.”

The sweetness of her words stung. He’d never felt so undeserving of something in his life. And yet, he was wholly grateful for her. “I’m happy to share with you.”

She insisted on feeding it to him, and although it was a struggle for him to accept her help, he remembered his mother’s words, and allowed her to.

Two hours passed, mostly in silence. There wasn’t much to say, really. Nothing either of them wished to speak of, certainly. But she offered him comfort by holding his hand, and pressing the occasional kiss against the back of it.

Eventually, after darkness fell outside the window, Ash returned.

“Are you ready to sleep for the night?”

“Yes.” His self-loathing was becoming unbearable. As much as he cherished Christina’s presence, he no longer felt worthy of it, and he needed her to go.

“Alright, let’s get your hands restrained.”