The Chase

“We’ll make it happen,” Beck echoed.

“More time,” she gasped out. “Once I leave here…”

She would never see her father’s face again, never touch him. Right now, she could pretend. But the moment she walked out, she would be letting him go for good.

They stood patiently behind her, the wrenching sounds of her tears shredding him. Eventually, she would find peace with Abel’s passing, but he couldn’t spoon-feed it to her now. Grief didn’t work that way. It couldn’t be placated or rushed or brushed aside. It had to take its own path.

“We’ll be here,” Beck promised, then motioned him to the far side of the room.

Seth followed until they stood a discreet distance away. “She’s taking this every bit as hard as I feared.”

Beck nodded. “How do we help her? My only knowledge of grief is what I’ve observed clinically.”

“Heavenly is strong. She’ll get through it…in time. I’m worried about now. How do we convince her to leave him here?”

“Since death is part of being a surgeon, I’ve got a strategy for that. But I don’t know how to help her cope going forward. I’ve never lost anyone I loved.”

“I have. It sucks.” Seth dragged in a breath. “My family managed to get me through. I wouldn’t have made it without their love.”

“We’re all she has left. We’ll have to give her every bit we can.”

“If she’ll take it.”

She broke the silence with a sniffle and cast a frantic gaze to the foot of the bed as she yanked the spare blanket over her father’s body. “You can’t get cold, Daddy.”

At the sound of her panic, Beck hustled to her side. He lifted his hand to her before dropping it again. “He can’t feel cold anymore.”

“Or pain,” Seth added, following. “He’s free. He’s in a better place.”

She whirled. “A better place would be alive and here with me.”

“He spent all the time with you on this earth he could,” Beck murmured.

“I know,” she sobbed. “But how do I let him go?”

“It’s hard, angel.” Seth stroked her hair since Beck wouldn’t. “We can stay longer if you need.”

She lifted her head, closed her eyes, and curled her arms around herself. “I don’t want to go, but I know I have to.”

“Would you like me to ask someone to sit with your dad tonight?” Beck offered softly.

Seth shot him a glance. They both knew the minute Heavenly surrendered her father’s body, an orderly would whisk Abel to the morgue. But the white lie would shield her from the harsh reality. Seth was grateful for that.

“Please.” Her pained plea was a stab in the heart.

“Of course.” Beck sent her a reassuring smile.

“Thanks.” Heavenly struggled to hold herself together. “Can you take me to Raine? I need her.”

“Sure.” Seth wished like hell she wanted comfort from them. But he understood. They’d fucked up. And grief wasn’t logical or reasonable.

He held out his hand to her.

Heavenly searched his gaze with watery eyes before placing her palm in his. Then she slowly rose.

At his side, she felt so small and fragile. He ached to hold her, but this wasn’t about what he needed. So he settled for clasping her hand in his.

When she looked back one last time at her father, twin teardrops fell down her cheeks. Seth couldn’t stand to see her torture herself anymore, so he cupped her face, softly but inexorably turning her toward him.