THERE’S SO MUCH BLOOD. Too much. I’ve seen this much blood before; Richard, when he was murdered in front of me at our shop. That monster cut his throat with total disregard for what he was taking from the world, and his blood soaked into me, just like now, only this time it’s different. This is Finlay’s blood.
I can’t lose him, not like this. Not because of me.
“Finlay! Stay with me! Please God.” My hands shake uncontrollably as I try to stop the life from leaving him… leaving me.
Willing him to be okay is a fool’s errand, yet my soul screams for him not to leave me all the same.
Fat, salty drops leak from my eyes, dripping my fear onto the perfect white flesh of his face. Penetrating green pierces me through the blur of my tears, and I see his own sorrow, crystalized like jade, staring back at me.
“I’m sorry. I love you.” He gurgles as his body becomes limp in my arms. His head lolls and crimson stains taint his lips.
All we are, everything we’ve been through, has brought us to this moment; him dying because of me.
I was right; we’re destruction for each other.
All the good, the love, the lust, doesn’t justify the pain, sorrow, and turmoil.
My heart bleeds through the holes left from our chaotic past.
His breathing shudders, causing his chest to concave.
Fear almost stops my own breathing. This can’t be real.
Acid burns over my tongue; the room expands and fades.
Gavin is saying things but it’s distorted and distant. Focusing my eyes on his lips, I urge myself to hear him. I’m losing myself; my soul is trying to flee so it doesn’t have to face the reality of what it’s witnessing. Darkness begins to drag me away.
“An ambulance is coming. Stay with us, Fin. Fuck,” Gavin barks, and I’m dragged back to the now. Gavin’s hand comes over mine, pushing down on the wound with me.
Our eyes meet, and I can see the defeat alive in his, and the grief crushing his features.
He knows the blood in Fin’s mouth means internal injuries.
We’re going to lose him… I can’t… I’m not ready.
THERE’S SOMETHING COMFORTING ABOUT the aroma of coffee potent in the air around you, arousing you from slumber, and energizing your mind while warming your body.
“Mmm.” I smile, rolling over my crisp white sheets and stroking the warm space Finlay vacated to resume his morning routine. I’ve become accustomed to his routine over the past few weeks.
I take the cup from him with a smile and inhale the scent steaming from the mug. The sun has risen and is casting an orange glow throughout the room, highlighting his form as he looks down on me. There’s a mist on the window from a light spray of rain.
I hate the rain.
“Decaf coffee, baby.” He smiles brightly, which lights up his gorgeous face.
Pulling away from the comforter, I shuffle slowly over to pat the space I’ve created for him to sit. His dark green eyes roam over my body with hunger, stopping at my exposed legs, making him bite down on his bottom lip.
He makes me feel like I’m a beauty, a sex goddess, as opposed to the reality of being the bed head, sleep-deprived mess that sits before him.
My morning sickness has kicked in already, but being the awkward, troublesome creature that I am, I had to be different and have a middle of the night sickness - or early hours - depends on how you look at it.
Gavin was too drunk to remember Finlay hugging my stomach and asking me if our baby was really in there, and no one else knows. My parents are going to freak when I tell them, but I’m more worried how this will affect my degree. I’ll need more time out to have the baby, although we are yet to discuss it.
I know Finlay plans on having me at home, tied to the baby’s crib. His possessiveness is at an all-time high, even going as far as snapping at an over-eager Gavin when he tried to innocently order me Mexican food that was ranked with four red chili’s (super-hot).
Poor Gavin didn’t have a clue why it was such a crime. After all, he knows Mexican is my favorite food. What he didn’t know was that the baby is opposed to anything spicy.
It’s been an emotional few weeks, and although truths were revealed, the pain of it all is still raw, nerves frayed, and I’m not sure how we’re going to move past it. All I know is I love Finlay; I only breathe to love him.
“Antonia.” The sharp sound of my name on his tongue summons me from my mind.
My body trembles, dull aches pulsing throughout, my stomach churning with hunger pain.
Dragging my eyes to find the doctor talking to me, a frown mars my brow. He waits for me to focus on him.
“Now, can you tell me where you really are and what happened to you?”
His pen is poised, ready to write down that he thinks I’m crazy. I swipe my hand over the crisp white sheets of the hospital cot; the cotton is rough and firmer under my palm than my own sheets. I’m not in Finlay’s bed. I’m not happy. I’m not pregnant.
“I’M IN THE HOSPITAL, a bad phone call came in, and the shock caused a miscarriage.” My tone is flat, the warmth from before has left my entire body, and agony and misery adorn the spaces inside me. They told me it wasn’t the shock, just unfortunate and common.
Like it’s a freaking cold.
But I know it was the trauma of hearing his voice in my ear like he was standing right there, whispering into my soul.
“Do you understand why we have admitted you?”
He speaks slower than an average person, stopping every few words to make sure it’s sinking in. The torrential rain pounds against the window pane as if it’s trying to get inside to flood the room with the misery I’m feeling inside.
I hate the rain
“Because I didn’t want to believe it,” I croak, shifting slightly on the bed. My ribs echo pain from the fall down the stairs a couple of weeks ago.
“You were creating a separate reality as a coping mechanism,” he states, nodding his head, waiting for me to confirm that I know what he says to be truth.
“I’m not crazy. I just don’t want to live in reality right now,” I tell him firmly, sounding insane even to my own ears.
The door opens and another doctor enters, they talk in hushed tones, occasionally flicking their eyes to me. If I were crazy, the way they conduct themselves wouldn’t help me.
She leaves, and the first doctor moves closer to where I’m sitting on the bed.
“Doctor Evans has agreed to take over your care after you requested her. We would like to keep you for a few more days, but we’re happy for you to carry on your care outside of the hospital.”
Thank God.
As much as I don’t want to face the outside world, being in here will send me rushing to jump in front of the crazy train.
“Your parents are here.”
Just hearing the word parents builds a sob in my chest, desperate to rip free.
Who called them? What did they tell them? How long have I even been here? I’ve lost count.
My mind wanders back to the call, and me throwing the phone across the kitchen.
My cell makes an unfamiliar noise, distracting me from Finlay, Gavin, and Gaby’s drama. It’s the first time I’ve charged it since I’ve been home. When I answer, my legs weaken, forcing me to slip down to the floor.