A Soldier's Girl

Chapter 19:

Chapter 19:

Daryl's View

It has been a good two months since I asked Beth to marry me. And in those two months I haven't been happier. We'd told Hershel and the rest of her family about us, and they weren't exactly surprised either. It's nice knowing they love us the way they do. It's nice feeling their happiness as we walk in the house every now and again. But what's not so nice, is feeling pressured. Pressured for the wedding date, pressured for the honeymoon place and the ceremony, pressured for the guests list and every other stupid little thing that don't really matter. This feeling of pressure has been getting to Beth. She takes everything on and when I try to help, she tries to push me away saying 'I got Daryl' or 'Don't worry, this I what the bride does'. How can I not worry when she's running herself into the ground.

It's no like I haven't tried to help. I got our apartment sold, everything at the new house, I even set up interviews for Beth at the elementary school in Macon. But all these things have lead her to feeling more pressure and exhaustion. And it's bad, let me tell ya, it's really bad. I haven't kissed her in almost a month an a half. Haven't touched her in any kin of way or about the same time. Between me working, therapy, and her working, trying to take care of the house, plan for this wedding and everything else-we barely even see each other. On top of all of this, I've been havin' to deal with Merle's wedding, since I'm apparently his best man.

I haven't seen Beth eat in a long time either. I make her breakfast-she doesn't eat it, just runs to work. I pack her a lunch-half the time it ends up in her passenger seat of the truck. I make dinner-if she comes home, she's in the basement laying out table arrangements or workin' on other wedding stuff-sometimes she doesn't even come home until late from doing God knows what.

Sitting on the couch this warm Saturday afternoon, I read the paper and pet Moose. That's another thing she's been neglecting, besides myself, the damn dog. Poor Moose is all I can say. He runs up to her everyday and she says a quick hello and leaves-not even petting him or going him a treat. And at night, he sleeps in between us, but mostly cuddles next to me cause she ignores his little whimpers of wanting love. So Moose and I are best friends cause Beth's neglected us for so long.

"Pirates beat the Red Sox Moose. Isn't that exciting? They're having a great year, buddy." It's sad to say that all my conversations are held with my dog, but hey, no one else seems to wanna talk. Beth comes down the stairs from our room with several books in her hand and is talking on the phone with probably another catering service. "Hey honey....Good morning."

She says nothing, barely even acknowledges me. I sit back against the couch and try to ignore the burning sensation in my chest that is my heart breaking farther apart. Suddenly it goes quiet and I hear a crash in the kitchen. Getting up quickly, I sprint with Moose to the kitchen and find the books scattered everywhere and Beth laying on the floor clutching her side.

"Beth you okay?" Gritting her teeth and crying out in pain, she can't really answer from trying to hold back her scream. I hear the voice coming from the phone, pickin it up, "She'll call you back." and I hang up.

"Owwww, ahhhh, owwwww." She's rolling around holdin her whole stomach now, and her face is beat red. Pickin' her up as gently as I can, I grab my truck key and sprint outside and down the steps to the truck, leaving Moose to guard the house. "Owww!"

"What's going on? Is it yer stomach or yer appendix?"

"OWW!!!" She brings her knees up to her chest and then pushes them down fast to the floor, throwing her head back and arching her spine.

"Okay, I'm takin you to the hospital, sweetie. Bethy, it's gonna be alright, I got you."

"Daryl...HURRY! A-OWW!" She sobs harder and I speed off to the nearest hospital, which is Grady Memorial in Atlanta. Getting in, I leave the car for the valet and carry her into the ER, finding the nursing station, they don't even ask me what's going on cause they can tell by Beth's screams and mannerisms of pain, that she needs to be looked at now. Putting her in a wheel chair, they take her back and leave me to fill out paper work. When I fill out everything I possible can, I pace the waiting room.