by Kristy Love
“Oh, Roman. I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her eyes and she rested her hand on my arm. Her support helped the rest of the words come.
“I was at work and we got the call about the robbery. We were told two people were shot and injured, one was dead. I went in to do my job.” I took a shaky breath to hold my emotions at bay. She needed to see the demons inside of me, ravaging my soul and breaking me apart. She needed to know why I wasn’t whole. “I didn’t see her on the floor at first. I didn’t recognize her. Her face was covered in blood and brain matter was on the ground . . . everywhere. When I realized it was Laura, I collapsed to my knees. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I broke down on the spot. The guys had to haul me out. I was sent to the hospital where they sedated me.
“I should have been there to protect her. That was my job. I was her husband. I should have been there.” My voice broke and Mia moved closer, wrapping her arms around me, holding me. A lump filled my throat and my tears threatened to spill over. It was hard to control myself. It was like ripping open the wound all over again.
“I took a leave of absence after Laura. I couldn’t face going back out there. I was a wreck. She was my world. We married young, but we were so in love. I loved her, Mia. She was everything.” A few tears escaped, though I rubbed them away quickly. “Eventually, I left my job and moved to Fairfax. I couldn’t stay there. I tried, but every time I saw that gas station, the memories came back. I ran.”
I took a few shuddering breaths and tried to calm myself down. “Instead of facing it like a man, I ran away with my tail tucked between my legs. I couldn’t stay in the same house where we planned to have a family.” Mia ran a hand over my cheek. I closed my eyes, relishing the touch. “We were trying. To have a baby, that is. When I got off my shift, she was going to take a pregnancy test.” Mia made a noise that sounded like a sob stuck in her throat.
“Roman . . .”
Now that I’d started, I couldn’t stop. I needed to get it all out there, to explain myself, my actions. “It was the anniversary a few days ago. Five years.” I scoffed. “It’s been five years since that day. I was pushing you away because it was the anniversary and I couldn’t handle it. It was all too much. I’ve been dealing with so many emotions when it came to you.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to admit this, but knowing I needed to.
“You could have told me and I would have understood. If anyone knows how you feel, it’d be me.”
“It’s not that easy.” I ran my hand over my head several times, trying to come to terms with everything that was happening right now. “How can I give you my heart when I already gave it away once? Is it my heart to give?” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I promised to love Laura for the rest of my life. What does it mean if I love someone else?”
“I don’t know what to say, Roman. I don’t think love is easy. You loved Laura, obviously, so much.” She squeezed my arm. “It doesn’t mean you don’t love her anymore if you move on with your life.”
“That’s what Jessie said.”
“I’m also not going to force you to care about me, to want to be with me.”
I raised my hand to her cheek, feeling her soft skin and the warmth coming from her. Her cheek was still wet from her tears. “That’s the problem, Mia. I’ve fallen for you.” Her chin wobbled, emotion playing out across her face. “I still love Laura; I’ll always love Laura. But you make me believe I’ll be okay, and that’s not something I ever thought I’d feel again.”
She moved close to me, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I’m glad I can make you feel it’ll be okay, because you’ve done the same for me, Roman. My life is such a mess and you bring me peace.”
I closed the distance between us and kissed her, getting lost in her. She held onto me tightly, moving her lips with mine. Her tongue darted out, tasting my lips. I didn’t hold back. I came at her with my lips, tongue, and hands. I wanted her to feel me.
All too quickly, she shoved me off her and wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand. Her chest moved rapidly as she panted. “This isn’t right.” She blinked, tears falling down her cheeks. “Your wife.” Her voice caught in her throat. “It’s the anniversary of her death. I can’t.” She touched her lips. “I can’t do this right now.” She rose. “I’m sorry, Roman. I’m so sorry.” She fled, leaving me behind.
I sat there, my heart in my throat and my mind reeling. I’d let myself hope for a few moments. I thought everything would be okay.
But that’s what happened when you hoped. You ended up disappointed.
CHAPTER 22
Mia
ROMAN AND I WERE TWO broken souls, traveling through the abyss trying to stay afloat. We’d kept each other above the surface for awhile, but I was drowning. My mouth was filling with water and my lungs were flooding. Every breath was a struggle as I tried to stay alive. My days were numbered. I couldn’t keep the fight up much longer.
I couldn’t keep him afloat any longer. I saw the pain in his eyes, felt the pain radiating off him.
He’d loved Laura more than I could comprehend. I never had someone I loved that much. I loved my kids fiercely, but that was a different kind of love. I’d never be enough for him because he had already found the other half that completed him. And she was gone. There was no way for me to compare. It was foolish to even dream that I could.
Just once in my life, I wanted to be enough.
My phone rang. It was the hospital. They never called me.
“Hello?” I answered, my heart leaping into my throat.
“Mia,” Monique said, her voice strained as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. “I think you should get here right now.”
“What?”
“Please, just hurry.”
“Is everything okay?”
She took a deep breath, not quite a sigh; it seemed she was bracing herself. “This isn’t a conversation to have over the phone, honey. You need to get here. Right now.”
My whole body trembled. “I’m leaving right now.” I hung up, grabbed my keys and rushed out the door. Something was wrong, I could tell. What could have happened since I was there last night? I’d been working on a bakery order this morning. I wanted to get that started and have the conversation with Roman before I spent the rest of the day with Gia. Was that a mistake? Should I have been there?
Had everything been a mistake?
My hands shook against the steering wheel as my eyes blurred with tears. David entered my mind briefly, but I wanted to wait. I wanted to see what they had to say.
I weaved through traffic, fighting the emotions clawing at my chest, threatening to spill free. Somehow I found a parking space and raced up to Gia’s room. I didn’t remember how I got there or where I parked. It was a blur, lost in the panic of the moment. My lungs were barely pulling in enough oxygen, my body on some kind of weird autopilot as I fought my way to my daughter. Every step, every breath, every second was a battle.
I burst into Gia’s room, my eyes wide, my heart pounding against my ribs, my mind a jumbled mess.
“Mia,” Monique said, her voice soft, her eyes round. “Honey. Come sit down.” Still on autopilot, I navigated toward the chair. Monique held my hand, patting it. Words wouldn’t escape my throat. My eyes fell on Gia. Her breathing was raspy. How had that happened? Last night she seemed normal; well, her new normal. Each breath sounded painful as her small chest fought to breathe. My eyes filled and spilled over.
This was serious.
“Let me call for a doctor.” Monique talked to someone, but my eyes stayed glued to Gia.
I fell to my knees next to her bed, clutching her hand, resting my head gently against her chest. It rattled and wheezed. Her skin was hot to the touch.
Fuck. That was all I could think. My mind was empty. My body felt empty.
I was empty.
I lifted my head and smoothed my hand over her hair, trailing my fingers through her limp locks.
“Mia,” Dr. Brendo
n said as he walked into the room. I continued stroking Gia’s skin, though it was slightly clammy. “I’m glad you made it in.” I nodded. “Things have changed drastically in the last twenty-four hours.”
My hand stuttered against Gia’s forehead as my eyes rose to meet Dr. Brendon’s. “Twenty-four hours? I was here less than twelve hours ago.”
“We noticed some signs in Gia. Her temperature began to rise, so we drew some blood. Her white blood cell counts were high. Her breathing became labored, so we took some chest X-rays.” He paused, assessing me. “Gia has pneumonia, Mia.”
The world stopped, crashing around me. Faintly, I felt Monique’s hand on the small of my back as though she was trying to give me reassurance. Dr. Brendon’s words rolled around my mind as I tried to make sense of them, tried to discern how they fit together in relation to my daughter. I looked down at Gia, listened to her breathing, felt her warm skin and saw her hair sticking to her forehead. My baby was sick. “Why does she still have a fever?”
“We’re working on getting it down. It’s not responding to medication. We’ve started an antibiotic, but we’ll have to be more proactive.”
“What are her chances?”
“We need to treat this aggressively.”
“What are her chances?” I demanded, holding him with my eyes. I needed to hear it.
“If we can’t get the fever down, not good. If the antibiotic doesn’t start helping, even worse. We’ll also have to put her back on a ventilator. The oxygen level in her blood is poor.”
“Do whatever you need to do.”
Her room became a flurry of activity. They put her back on a ventilator, put cold rags across her forehead, and gave her more medicine. I sent a quick text to David and Roxie, telling them they should get here now. My gut said we all needed to be here. Gia needed our support.
Nurses fluttered around the room, checking vitals and monitors, making sure Gia was okay. My phone buzzed, notifying me of a text.
David: We’ll be there in twenty.
I didn’t respond; instead, I went back to hold Gia’s hand. I had to move out of the way earlier for them to work, but things had calmed down. I brushed my fingers through her hair, hoping my touch brought her some comfort and peace.
David and Roxie burst into the room, their eyes wild and worried. “What’s going on?” David asked, his long stride eating up the space between him and the bed. “Is she okay?”
“Honestly? No. She has pneumonia, David.”
David stumbled back a step. Luckily, Roxie was behind him and she grabbed his arm. David’s eyes swept over Gia. “Why aren’t they doing anything?”
“They’re doing everything they can for her.”
“They sure as hell are not!” He came over, his hands moving over her though not actually touching her.
“I’m sure they’re working hard to make sure Gia is okay, David,” Roxie said, her voice soft and comforting.
“She’s back on a vent,” David mumbled. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to us or to himself.
“She was having trouble breathing. Her heart rate is elevated, as well.” I couldn’t bring myself to mutter anything else. I couldn’t tell him that things didn’t look good.
Roxie moved forward, touching Gia’s forehead. “We’re here for you, baby girl. You be strong. You fight this infection and open your eyes. We’re all staying here until you do, okay?” She leaned down to kiss her forehead. Her lips lingered as a few tears slipped out from her closed eyes.
We sat there, all of us holding on to Gia in our own way. I clutched one hand and Roxie held her other. David rested a hand on her leg. We kept our eyes glued to her, hoping against hope that she’d pull through. There had been a few other minor scares, but something felt different this time.
All my problems and worries from this morning seemed insignificant. What did it matter if Roman was in love before? My entire world was contained within these hospital walls, and what if she didn’t make it? There was nothing left for me. How did you move on from this moment?
Eventually I passed out, my head on the bed, pressed against Gia’s hand and leg. I didn’t want to move from her side. Roxie and David sat in their chairs, sleeping off and on. David looked haunted, as though he couldn’t believe this was happening to our girl. Roxie looked resigned, though she didn’t say anything. I knew how she felt because I felt it too. This could very well be the end of Gia.
Why had I held out hope? Brain scan after brain scan had showed minimal activity. She’d stopped responding to pain or other stimulus, and she seemed to regress a little at a time. My little girl wasn’t in that body, but I just couldn’t give her up. I didn’t want to give her up. I wanted a miracle.
I wanted Gia’s miracle.
Time slipped on as the doctors and nurses fought for Gia’s life. She was given medication and fever reducers. Things were done that I didn’t understand and I didn’t want to understand.
It all meant my baby girl was slipping away from me.
I held her hand as long and as often as possible. I whispered stories in her ear because I couldn’t seem to find my full voice. I stroked her clammy skin and sticky hair.
My baby girl fought hard, though it was a roller coaster. Sometimes it seemed inevitable that she’d pull through. Her color seemed a bit better and her fever would go down. She didn’t seem to be in as much distress. Then her fever would begin to climb and all the hope that I’d built up would be dashed away and I’d be desperate for any sign that things would be better, that she still had a chance. Then the fever would go back down and she’d seem okay.
And then, at four in the morning, Gia’s body gave up. Her heart stopped beating, her lungs stopped working, and she lost the fight.
Doctors and nurses rushed into the room, trying desperately to save her as I stood in the corner with Roxie and David. Roxie stood between us, an arm wrapped around each of us. I could hear her quiet sobs as the doctors did their best. David sniffled, though I couldn’t look at him. If he was crying, I’d lose it. Everything would be undone. Any strength I had left would leave my body and I’d be left with nothing.
A short twelve minutes later, my baby girl, my beautiful Gia was pronounced dead. I was a hollow body, vacant of thoughts and feelings. Doctors talked to me, gave me information. Nurses held me. My eyes stayed dry. My voice stayed gone. The only indication that anything was going on was the slight shaking of my hands.
We stayed with Gia for a little bit, visited with her, said goodbye to her beautiful soul.
Roxie and David stood in the corner of the room, holding each other. Silent tears fell down Roxie’s cheeks and David rubbed a hand up and down her arm. She rested a protective hand against her abdomen.
I tuned them out, trying my damnedest to hold it together. I held Gia’s hand and stroked her forehead. I whispered in her ear as tears wet my cheeks. My throat swelled with a lump that threatened to strangle me. It almost seemed surreal. Gia looked the same as she had for over a year, but she wasn’t in there. She was an empty shell.
She’d never get her miracle. She’d never live the life she wanted or the life I dreamed for her. It was over. Just like that, her story was finished. It was way too soon, way too early. She should have had chapters left. She should have had sequels and spinoffs.
Instead, it was cut short, left unfinished.
I kissed her forehead one last time, lingering. I left my lips pressed to her beautiful face for as long as I could, not caring about anyone in this moment but me and Gia and our final goodbye.
“I love you, baby girl. For now and always,” I whispered against her smooth flesh, breathing in her familiar scent. I stood, offering a small nod to Roxie and David, then slipped out of the room and down the hall, my hands clenched tightly. I kept my eyes lowered, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. Surely, they’d see the way my soul had just been ravaged.
They’d know I was an empty woman walking.
CHAPTER 23
Roman
I’D FUCKED UP. I SHOULD have gone after Mia, but I couldn’t. I stayed rooted to the spot, regretting everything. By the time I got my head out of my ass, she had raced out of the driveway. I thought maybe she needed some time. She’d go see Gia, visit with David and Roxie, and things would be okay. A small glimmer of hope blossomed in my chest.
Time. She needed time. Hadn’t I needed time to come clean to her? To reveal my past, all of my secrets? She needed time to handle everything I unloaded on her and to process it. I was good at waiting, at giving people time. Hell, I’d given myself nothing but time for years. I’d stayed away from forming bonds with anyone, afraid.
It sounded like such a bullshit thing now. I held everyone at arm’s length, keeping myself safe out of fear. What kind of man did that make me? Not a strong one.
I was sure Mia would come home soon and we’d be able to figure everything out, so I waited. I watched TV, drank a beer, texted with Jessie. I went to work and slept after my shift. Mia’s car didn’t return and it had been a few days. Was everything okay? I tried texting her, but I didn’t get a response. Regret, worry, and fear formed a knot in my stomach, making it hard to do anything. Something wasn’t right. I tried calling and texting David, but nothing. Every call went straight to voicemail.
Something was going on.
Finally, after four days, my phone rang. It was David. I answered on the first ring.
“Is everything okay?”
“No, Gia’s gone,” David responded, his voice strangled. He was clearly still crying.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, a lump forming in my throat. A child losing their life was always a tragedy, no matter the circumstances. “Is Mia okay?”
“That’s why I’m calling. She left a few minutes ago without a word. Please be there for her.”
There was nothing I wanted more than to be there when Mia needed someone, and she definitely needed someone. She’d just been torn apart; her world was likely crumbling. But . . .”I’m not sure she’ll want me there. We had a fight.”