Devoted

Burning. Her body feels as if it's being pin-pricked over and over by a red-hot needle. The clothes on her body scratch like sandpaper against her scalded skin. It's unbearable and yet it doesn't even seem to touch the pain radiating from between her thighs and through her abdomen. Sweat soaks through her nightgown offering a tiny relief as the wet cotton becomes cool from the winter air in her bedroom. It's all so much. Too much.

The soft click of the door closing alerts her that someone is in the room again but her eyelids are too heavy to lift. She flinches as she thinks of the doctor returning. Hadn't he finished? Her memory is foggy as she recalls the hours of agony at the hands of the doctor. He was doing his job, she knew this. She had assisted in childbirth as part of her training and had been able to understand as he explained each step of the process. Even now just hours fresh from losing the baby the pain that made her believe she was being ripped apart at the seam is dissipating. Had she just dreamed all of this?

No. It had been real, holding her baby in her arms for those few minutes the doctor had spared couldn't have been a dream. The baby, her daughter, had been so tiny. She'd tried to memorize her little face, thinking she looked like she was sleeping before the doctor had taken her away.

What is she to tell James? How is she going to tell him that she failed to do the one thing a woman is made to do? Becoming a father had become the most important thing to him after she told him of the pregnancy. Even in his letters, he gushed about being a father, holding their child, and raising their child together. She thought of the night they spent in bed after the wedding dreaming about their future once he returned home. He had caressed her still flat tummy, scooting down to 'have a dad and son chat' which had made her laugh. She told him there was no guarantee it was a boy and he should get used to the idea of a daughter just in case. James had lifted his head giving her his lopsided grin the same grin that told her he wasn't listening.

Florence had rolled her eyes and swatted his arm making him jump up and wrap her into a bear hug as he rolled her on top of him. She'd teasingly complained he was a nuisance as she lovingly stared down at him, his white straight teeth flashing against his tanned skin. Green eyes full of love and life reflected her own feelings and she had never felt so loved as she had in that moment as his large hand settled on her tummy.

"I'll wait for you Florence, I promise you, I will." he had whispered into the night, sealing their fate. It had just been the three of them in that small flat, yet she had felt that the whole world had heard his declaration.

Florence can feel a pair of eyes on her, watching her, but she can't bear to look yet. The sheet that had been draped across her is removed and a draft of cold air sends goosebumps popping up along her arms and legs. The burning continues, but is duller with the cold air and she sighs in relief. Shuffling can be heard as someone moves around the room, the soft thump of bedding hitting the floor along with her breathing is all she can focus on. Strong hands grasp her under her shoulders gently lifting her up as she is propped against something hard, yet soft. She tries opening her eyes but only manages a fluttering movement, giving her just enough sight to see the sheets have been changed. Her nightgown is being tugged on and the hem is slowly sliding up she uses the small reserve of strength to lean forward as it is pulled over her arms and head. It's quickly replaced by smooth flannel and she's lowered back onto the pillows once again but the hands stay, she can feel them working down her body as they work the buttons through the holes in the front.

She can't see him right now but she is certain it's Hans caring for her. A sob bubbles in her chest at this unexpected comfort in having him near. His hands and the tugging sensation on her dressing gown disappear, followed by the creak of the hinges as the door opens and closes. Florence wants to call out for Hans to come back, not leave her alone in this room. This space is now tainted by loss. She rolls onto her side, tears rolling down her face in hot, steady streams. Her heart is beyond broken, it is numb. How is supposed to continue her life? This is all so unfair and she can't help but blame herself.

The pregnancy had been smooth until she had allowed Hans in and kissed him. It must be punishment for betraying James. She wishes to lay here and wallow in her self-hatred, yet exhaustion pulls her under. Florence is thankful for the black void that awaits her in sleep.

Florence stirs, her legs thrashing beneath the covers. She imagines the doctor's hand on her thigh, the other hand inside her clawing to remove the remnants of her torn placenta. Crying out as she kicks the blankets off, her chest heaving, and her eyes open to find the room dark. Arms are around her shoulders pulling her back down and she lets them, falling back into his warm embrace. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest as she sucks in a lungful of air.

"Shhh, you are safe." His voice comes from behind her, raspy from exhaustion or disuse she can't tell.

She sinks into the mattress letting his touch calm her as his fingers begin combing through her hair. Her mouth is dry but she no longer feels like she is burning up. The fever must have broken. Thank goodness.

"I need water," she croaks, lying still as she stares into the darkness that seems to match how she feels on the inside. His arms slip away leaving her to curl into herself.

The bed creaks and the mattress that had dipped under Hans' weight, and had created a little pocket for her to curl into, rises. She can hear the trickle of the water as he pours a glass before returning to the bed. Rolling over to face where he sits on the edge of the bed she squints against the bright light as he turns on the small lamp. Ever so slowly Florence scoots herself up in the bed until she is leaning against the headboard as she takes the glass of cool water from his outstretched hand. The cool water is soothing against her raw throat as she takes two large gulps and hands it back. She watches Hans in the glow of the lamp as he stretches forward placing the glass on the nightstand.

As if he can feel her eyes on him he turns to her, piercing blue eyes searching her face. She almost turns away from the look of sorrow in his gaze but reminds herself that he has lost a child before. He is the only person here that could possibly share this horrible feeling with her. They sit, gazing at each other as unspoken words pass between them as if words are not enough to convey what they wish to tell each other. His face begins to blur and dance out of focus as tears well in her eyes once again.

Without a word Hans comes to her, pulling her into him as he holds her and lets her grieve. She buries her face into his chest soaking his thin cotton shirt and he doesn't seem to mind or realize as he strokes her hair. He hums a soft tune she can't place, the vibrations rumbling from his chest soothe her in a way she can't explain.

She should say something, anything. At least thank him for being here, he should have fled before the doctor came. Her stomach knots, the doctor had been here and Hans had been here. They know a German pilot is in her home. How long before they come knocking on her door to take him away? She pulls away from Hans to peer up into his face. So handsome, so stoic even in her times of despair. He has become her rock in these last couple of months. Can she really survive this without him?

He must see the questions in her face as he shakes his head, "Not tonight. No cry for me, I knew the risks."

Florence's chin wobbles and she clamps her teeth down on her bottom lip to stop the trembling. Hans's jaw clenches in the lamplight but his eyes soften as he cups her face in his hands, his thumb tracing the contours of her mouth. Leaning forward he places a kiss on her forehead, so light it felt like butterfly wings against her skin. She melts into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and tucking her head into the crook of his neck as he turns the lamp off and covers them with the blankets. Scared that this may be their last time to be near each other they cling to each other through the night until Florence drifts off into the void once again.