Don't Hold Back (Love Hurts 4)

“Can he come in with me?” I ask, my voice small.

She shakes her head sadly. “I’m sorry, we need to get you prepped for theatre.”

I nod. My heart races as he steps towards me. He takes my hand and kisses it, sending shivers down my spine. He pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“I’m not going to say goodbye, because then you have to come back to me,” he whispers hoarsely.

I smile and kiss him, praying he is right. I wish I had more time to prepare myself—even just another day.

“Fine. No goodbyes.” I grin. I stare into his eyes, trying to remember every little detail about him. I ignore the nurse trying to hurry me up by coughing not so discreetly.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’ll see you soon.”

Letting go of his hands and walking away is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. When I reach the nurse, I turn back around. I laugh, because here I am using all my strength to hold back my tears, and every single one of them is bawling like a baby. I take a deep breath.

“Love you all,” I say through my tears. “I’ll see you on the flip side.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Cade

He said it would take hours.

He said he has the best team of surgeons assembled to assist him and not to expect to hear anything for at least a few hours, so when I see him walking towards us so soon into the operation, I know it’s not good.

Calli sits next to me. She breathes in sharply and grips the seat below, her knuckles turning white.

Turning my attention back to the doctor approaching us, I search his face for a sign—anything—to tell me that my gut is wrong, but I know it’s not. No eye contact. Bowed head. When he removes his hat and clutches it in his balled fist, I know she’s gone.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he murmurs to Erin’s mother. “She haemorrhaged shortly into the operation. We worked on her for a long time, but we couldn’t bring her back.”

“God, no. Not like this,” Mrs Camden gasps. She falls into her husband’s arms, and Calli wraps hers around both of them.

I sit there awkwardly, lost in my own grief, my head buried in my hands. I can’t believe she’s gone. Her mother’s screams pierce my thoughts, slicing through them like a knife.

I’ll never see that smile again, or hear that laugh. I’ll never get to tease her about her shitty taste in movies, or argue over who knows more. I’ll never get to tell her how much I love her, ever again.

Her mother’s wails jolt me back to reality. I want to tell her it will be okay, but I can’t, because I can’t see how it will be. Why should they listen to me anyway? They only found out about the surgery two days ago. The surgery that I convinced her to do. If it wasn’t for me, they would have had more time with her. Hell, I would’ve had more time with her myself.

I stand up and walk away, stumbling down the corridor. I need to go, because I don’t deserve to grieve with them. I’m numb, yet at the same time the pain is unbearable. I can’t think straight. Even something as simple as breathing feels impossible.

“Cade?”

My heart leaps as I turn around. For the smallest moment I thought maybe there had been a misunderstanding, and that Erin was there, calling out to me. But all I see is Calli and her heartbroken expression, telling me that this nightmare is real. God, she sounds so much like her sister.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Away. Anywhere but here,” I mumble. My heart pounds. I breathe in, my lungs burning, crushing against my chest. All I can focus on is getting out of here, because if I’m not here, then I can pretend this isn’t happening. I can’t do this without her. She was my reason. My person. My everything.

Calli puts her hand out to stop me, but I jerk away. I can’t handle her touch. Listening to her voice is hard enough.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. Turning around, I run, and I don’t stop until I’m outside.

I get back to the hotel, where I’m surrounded by her. Her smell. Her belongings. Her memories. She’s everywhere and I can’t escape. I’m still in shock that she’s gone. All I want to do is sleep so I can escape the pain consuming me.

My hands shake as I raid the mini-bar, looking for anything that might knock me out. It’s all useless, so I call the reception and order a bottle of scotch. I slump down in the chair, defeated and alone, with no clue where to go from here. I can’t close my eyes, because she’s there, haunting me.

I jump at the sound of the knock on the door and get up. Yanking the door open, I grab the bottle from the porter and mumble something that resembles a thank you before slamming the door in his face.