Tears are falling down my mom’s cheeks. My dad has his fist against his mouth to fight his own hurt.
They know before even asking questions.
I stride across the room to hug my mother, rubbing her back as she lets out her hurt, and then move to my dad next. He’s not much of a hugger, but he keeps a tight hold on me, understanding my pain.
I lean back on my heels. “Will you give us a moment?”
They nod, and I’m back at Willow’s side when they’re gone. I scrub my other hand over my face and try to control my breathing. “You honestly can’t believe I’m not in love with you. I’ve been trying to show you how damn good we are together.”
Her chin trembles as she prepares herself to break my fucking heart. “I might be younger than you, but I’m not stupid, Dallas. We have fun together. We like each other. We’re attracted to each other. But your heart isn’t ready for anyone else. And my heart isn’t whole enough to give someone a piece I’m not sure I’ll get back. We were caught in the moment, moving too fast, even though we told each other in the beginning that a relationship was off the table.”
“That was before I brought you into my life, before you showed me how wonderful you were with my daughter, before you showed me what it was like to be happy again.”
She stares down at her stomach without saying another word. She said what she needed, and now, she’s done.
“So, this is it, huh? Where you want us to go? I’ve lost two people in my life that fucking meant something. No, make that three if you walk away from me.”
She keeps her head bowed and grimaces.
“Please, look at me. Goddamn it, look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me.”
She appears almost frail while slumping down on the bed. “I understand you’re upset about our baby, but please don’t try to act like you’re hurt because I’m asking for space. We would’ve never worked because you’re not ready to open your heart to me.”
“Glad I know where I stand with us.” I push off the railing on the bed. “I need some air.”
I speed out of the hospital without stopping to talk to anyone else, get in my truck, and slam my fist against the steering wheel, taking all of my anger out on it. The pain hits me like a brick. I let the tears fall freely, and I’m certain my heart is dying in my chest.
My tears were finally starting to dry from losing Lucy.
I’m back at square one.
My life keeps falling apart.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dallas
ELEVEN MONTHS AGO
You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
It’s a bullshit cliché.
But fuck me if the reality of those nine words isn’t smacking me in the face.
I knew what I had.
I cherished what I had.
But I sure as hell didn’t plan on it getting ripped away from me at thirty-one years old.
The beeping of the machines next to Lucy is the only noise in the room. I have a love-hate relationship with them. They’re her helping hand, her strength, but they won’t be here much longer.
And neither will she.
A relentless surge of panic rips through my veins like a drug when I grip my hand around hers. Watching someone you love die is like your flesh torturously being stripped from your bones, inch by agonizing inch, baring the most vulnerable parts of yourself.
I wipe away my tears with the back of my arm, pissed at them for blurring my limited view of her. I haven’t cried like this since I was in Pampers.
I’m a Barnes boy. We’re known for our resilience, for our strength in the most desperate times. Emotions don’t bleed through our skin. We hide them underneath and let them eat us alive.
At least, that’s what I thought until I had to shoot myself with the truth. She is going to die, and there is nothing I can do. No one I can fight. No amount of money I can pay to stop it.
That shit does something to a man.
I tilt my head up to painfully stare at the tiled ceiling and wish it’d cave in on me. Her lips are a bruised blue when I bore my eyes back to her.
Metastatic breast cancer.
It spread fast, too fast, and was caught too late. There was nothing we could do. Chemo didn’t work. Praying didn’t work. Her liver is failing. Her body is shutting down.
I’ve followed her wishes. This is where she wanted to do it—not at our home where our daughter lays her head. Here, with just the two of us, so that’s what I’m giving her.
“Take me,” I plead to the good man above. “Take me, goddamn it!” My chest aches, my lungs restricting airflow, and I pound my fist to my chest. “Let her fucking stay! Take my last breath and give it to her!”
My throat is scratchy and sore, like I’ve been screaming my pleas, but they’ve merely been coming out as a whisper.
I tighten my grip on her, wishing I could be her lifeline, as she starts to let go. I gulp down the urge to beg her to hold on, beg her not to leave me, but the thought of her enduring more pain kills me just as much as losing her. I have to let her go in peace even if I selfishly don’t want to.
I don’t know how to live without her.
I sob as the radiant eyes I fell in love with dim.
No!
Take my light! Take it all from me!
Let her keep shining!
I slump down in my chair like a fucking coward when the machine starts to fire off.
And, with her last breath, she takes me with her.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Willow
Gone.
I was on the verge of a panic attack when they brought me to the hospital. I cried. Man, did I cry. I’m shocked I have any tears left. I didn’t know what was happening—if I was miscarrying, if it was something serious, if I was overreacting. The pain told me something was off, and I was hoping that it wasn’t the something that happened.
I shrank into my bed, a cry escaping my lips, when they couldn’t find the second baby’s heartbeat. They checked it once. Checked it twice. Nothing. Blame wrapped around me like a blanket when Dallas walked in. I shouldn’t have been on the road in the middle of nowhere. I shouldn’t have been stressing myself out over a man when I had babies to worry about.
At first, I blamed myself.
Then, that blame shifted to Dallas.
He shouldn’t have asked me to go to his house.
It’s not my fault we lost the baby.
It’s not his fault we lost the baby.
But, sometimes, you want to blame someone because you can’t handle knowing they’re just gone. Even though I haven’t been pregnant that long, I’ve already started to fall in love with my babies, and now, one of them has been taken away from me. My heart is hurting, like someone stuck a knife inside and is twisting it until every part of me has ruptured.
I still have a baby relying on me. I’m not going to put myself into any other stressful situations. I won’t be worried about Dallas’s heart because I’m only going to focus on keeping mine sane for the baby, and trying a relationship with him isn’t going to do that.
I need space. I need to step away. I stare at the door, wondering if he’s going to come back or not, and tense up when a knock comes.