I close my eyes and pull in several unsteady breaths, trying my best to compose myself before I face the kids again. A small body approaches, and a moment later, I smell Mom’s floral scent fill my senses as she wraps her arms around my waist. I cling to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace. She cries quietly against my chest as we both grieve over Molly. Nancy and Lindsay approach and they both wrap their arms around Mom and me.
I’m not strong enough for this. I’ve had almost a year to prepare.
Molly may not be technically gone yet, but it feels like she already is.
Chapter Thirty-One
LINCOLN
My chest feels hollow, like my heart no longer sits behind my sternum, when I push open the door to the room. The smell that greets me is the same as in the hallway: sterile, antiseptic, and sickness. The room is bright, the walls bare, and my shoes squeak on the linoleum floor as I walk across the room, mixing with the beeping noise of the machines next to the bed.
I lock eyes on Molly. There are no words to describe the type of pain I feel looking down at her hooked up to so many machines. Her mouth is covered with an oxygen mask. Her long red hair is pulled to the side in a ponytail, I’m sure to keep it out of the way. One hand has an IV.
Despite all of this, she’s still beautiful. She’s still my Molly, my girl. The owner of my heart.
Grabbing the chair a few feet away, I carry it to her bedside and take a seat. Taking care of the IV in the top of her hand, I lace our fingers together and let them rest on her stomach. I prop my elbows on the bed and simply look at her.
“Hey, baby.” My voice comes out a broken whisper. “I’m here. I’m right here. Gray, Gemma, your mom and dad, Jenna, and Lindsay are too. They wanted to come in a see you, but I wanted a few minutes alone first.”
Tears slide down my cheeks, knowing the chances of her hearing me are slim. It doesn’t matter. If there’s the slightest chance she can, I want her to know I’m here.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here until the very end, because here by your side is where I belong. I’ve always and will always belong by your side, even when you’re no longer here.”
I rest my forehead on our combined hands and let my tears flow.
“I know I promised, but I don’t know how to do this without you, Molly. You’ve been my rock, my soul mate, my everything for so long, that I don’t know how to live without you. I’m afraid to live without you.”
The steady beep of the machine is my only response.
“I know you’re still here. That machine beside me says you are, but what happens when you’re not? It’s only been a few hours since I found you this morning, but I feel like I’m already dying inside. I don’t know what to do. You need to tell me how to go on without you, Molly, because I’m not sure I have the strength.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and more tears pour out. My stomach feels raw, like something sharp is raking across my insides.
“I love you so damn much. I miss you so damn much. And I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t take this disease away from you. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you better. I’m sorry you won’t get to see our children grow into beautiful adults. Or get to hold our grandchildren. It’s not fucking fair.”
I press my lips together and suck in a sharp breath. I hold it for a moment before letting it out slowly.
“I know I said I wasn’t sure I could live without you, but I swear to you, baby, I will. I’ll find a way and do it because it’s what you wanted, and I’ll do it because our kids need me. I’ll be there for them for as long as I can.”
I sit quietly beside her bed, our hands clasped together for several more minutes. I know Gray, Gemma, and the others are probably crawling out of their skin wanting to see her, so as much as I don’t want to leave her yet, I get up and go get them.
The kids’ faces are splotchy, their eyes swollen and red, when I walk back out into the waiting room. Their hands cling to mine when we walk down the hallway toward Molly’s room. As much as I want to protect them from the pain I know they’ll feel at seeing their mother the way she is, I can’t take away their few remaining chances of spending time with her.
Everyone is quiet as they follow me down the hallway. The nurses at the nurse’s station watch us with compassionate eyes as we pass by, having been informed of the situation.
Someone behind me sucks in a sharp breath when we enter the room. Gemma immediately releases my hand and runs to the side of the bed, her eyes immediately filling with more tears. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to touch Molly’s arm.
“Momma?” she cries.
We’ve explained to her that her mom is in a special kind of sleep that she won’t wake up from. But her young mind doesn’t fully grasp it. It shreds my heart to hear the imploring note in her voice. Nancy rushes over and tugs her against her chest, her watery gaze looking at her daughter over Gemma’s shoulder.
Gray’s grip tightens in mine, and I look down at him. “It’s okay, Son. You can go see your mother.”
At first, I think he’s going to refuse—the tormented look in his eyes gives away his hesitancy—but after a moment, he lets go of my hand and slowly walks over to the opposite side of the bed. He stands there several seconds, looking at his mom. His jaw bunches, and I know he’s holding back the strong emotions coursing through him.
I approach and lay a hand on his shoulder. As if he was waiting for my comforting touch of reassurance for him to react, he hunches over the bed and his face drops to Molly’s stomach, burying it into the covers.
Lindsay walks up to the bed, and I step away to give her room to stand beside Gray. Jenna goes to the other side with Nancy and Gemma.
“Oh, Molly,” Lindsay cries softly, covering her mouth.
My hand is gripped by a smaller one, and I look over to find Mom tearfully staring at my wife. I reach for her at the same time she steps forward, and we hug each other tightly for several long moments.
Hearing Gemma fall apart in Nancy’s arms, I let Mom go and walk around to pick her up. Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms tightly around my neck, and her face smashes against my neck.
There’s nothing worse than holding your child, watching them go through so much pain, and not be able to do anything about it.
A hand lands on my shoulder, the grip digging deep into the muscle. Glancing over, I find Douglas beside me, silent tears coursing down his cheeks.
This is the way we all stay for a long time, hovering around Molly, as she slips further away from us.
Chapter Thirty-Two
LINCOLN
A week later, I’m still at Molly’s bedside. I haven’t left the hospital at all. Family and friends come and go for visits, bringing me stuff when I need it. I refuse to leave her side. My place is right here.
Between Nancy, Lindsay, and Jenna, they’ve been watching over the kids and bringing them up here to see their mother. Gemma always clings to me when she’s here, which sends a huge amount of guilt through me. I know the kids need me, but Molly needs me more. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m not leaving her until she’s no longer with us.