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My Peace (Beautifully Broken 5)

Page 68

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She grins.

“Eat. You need to for the baby.”

“As if you care.”

“You should put a cool cloth on that,” she suggests, gesturing at my mouth, and then she’s gone again. I ignore my swelling lip, and instead focus on my husband again.

Is his hand in a different place? Did he move while I wasn’t looking?

I sink to my knees.

“Please, please please,” I beg. I’m not sure if I’m begging God or Pax.

I’m frozen in place and he doesn’t move.

“Please, God,” I mumble, without taking my eyes off the screen.

He’s so completely still.

I wait. I ignore the food tray and I watch my husband for any sign of life. For anything.

He gives me nothing.

For an hour, for sixty long, frustrating minutes, I stare at him, and he doesn’t move. But then... then…

Something is slipped under the door of his room.

I peer at it.

It looks like a folded piece of paper.

Pax blinks.

He blinked.

The knowledge rams into me and I cry from relief. He’s not dead.

He’s not dead.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, he reaches over and takes the paper. He unfolds it. He reads it.

He gets to his feet.

He grabs a box.

He takes a syringe out. He taps the barrel, he flicks at his arm.

“No,” I breathe. “No. Pax, don’t!”

He plunges it into his arm without blinking again. He stares at the wall, like a robot or a machine, and he doesn’t blink. I don’t think he’s feeling a thing. His eyes are wide open.

When he’s finished, he puts it back in the box, and tosses it in a pile of empties. There are so many empty boxes, and had they all contained drugs?

I’m stunned. I’m numb.

What the hell is happening?

Why is this happening?



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