His Beloved's Cure Ran Through My Veins

Synopsis

In the fifth year of her marriage, Claire Monroe had already been mistaken countless times for a victim of domestic abuse. The doctor spoke in a brisk, professional tone, but her eyes lingered on Claire's wrist. "Ma'am, did you do this to yourself, or did someone hurt you?" A line of scars ran along the pale underside of Claire's forearm, like rungs on a ladder. Some had faded to a dull silver, while others were still pink and fresh beneath a square of clean gauze. Claire raised her eyes. The doctor rested a hand lightly on the back of the exam chair. "You don't have to be afraid. I can call someone for you. The hospital has a private protocol. No one else would find out." Claire lowered her gaze, and a faint smile touched the corner of her lips. "That won't be necessary." The doctor blinked, unsure how to respond. Claire pulled the cuff of her blouse down to cover the bandage, smoothing the fabric with her fingers. "I have to draw blood every month. "It's for a regular lab panel. The medication I take is very expensive, so I've gotten used to doing it at home." The doctor opened her mouth, then closed it again without saying anything. Claire met her eyes and gave a gentle shake of her head. "There's really no one you need to call." She stood up, folded the lab slip in half, then again, and tucked it neatly into her purse. "My husband treats me very well." The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she hesitated for a brief moment. Then she smiled again. This time, it reached her eyes more easily. This time, it almost felt real.