I nod and let go of her hand. I glance over to the nurse.
“Can he come in with me?” I ask, my voice small.
She shakes her head sadly. “I’m sorry, we need to get you prepped for theatre.”
I nod. My heart races as he steps towards me. He takes my hand and kisses it, sending shivers down my spine. He pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“I’m not going to say goodbye, because then you have to come back to me,” he whispers hoarsely.
I smile and kiss him, praying he is right. I wish I had more time to prepare myself—even just another day.
“Fine. No goodbyes.” I grin. I stare into his eyes, trying to remember every little detail about him. I ignore the nurse trying to hurry me up by coughing not so discreetly.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I’ll see you soon.”
Letting go of his hands and walking away is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. When I reach the nurse, I turn back around. I laugh, because here I am using all my strength to hold back my tears, and every single one of them is bawling like a baby. I take a deep breath.
“Love you all,” I say through my tears. “I’ll see you on the flip side.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cade
He said it would take hours.
He said he has the best team of surgeons assembled to assist him and not to expect to hear anything for at least a few hours, so when I see him walking towards us so soon into the operation, I know it’s not good.
Calli sits next to me. She breathes in sharply and grips the seat below, her knuckles turning white.
Turning my attention back to the doctor approaching us, I search his face for a sign—anything—to tell me that my gut is wrong, but I know it’s not. No eye contact. Bowed head. When he removes his hat and clutches it in his balled fist, I know she’s gone.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he murmurs to Erin’s mother. “She haemorrhaged shortly into the operation. We worked on her for a long time, but we couldn’t bring her back.”
“God, no. Not like this,” Mrs Camden gasps. She falls into her husband’s arms, and Calli wraps hers around both of them.
I sit there awkwardly, lost in my own grief, my head buried in my hands. I can’t believe she’s gone. Her mother’s screams pierce my thoughts, slicing through them like a knife.
I’ll never see that smile again, or hear that laugh. I’ll never get to tease her about her shitty taste in movies, or argue over who knows more. I’ll never get to tell her how much I love her, ever again.
Her mother’s wails jolt me back to reality. I want to tell her it will be okay, but I can’t, because I can’t see how it will be. Why should they listen to me anyway? They only found out about the surgery two days ago. The surgery that I convinced her to do. If it wasn’t for me, they would have had more time with her. Hell, I would’ve had more time with her myself.
I stand up and walk away, stumbling down the corridor. I need to go, because I don’t deserve to grieve with them. I’m numb, yet at the same time the pain is unbearable. I can’t think straight. Even something as simple as breathing feels impossible.
“Cade?”
My heart leaps as I turn around. For the smallest moment I thought maybe there had been a misunderstanding, and that Erin was there, calling out to me. But all I see is Calli and her heartbroken expression, telling me that this nightmare is real. God, she sounds so much like her sister.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“Away. Anywhere but here,” I mumble. My heart pounds. I breathe in, my lungs burning, crushing against my chest. All I can focus on is getting out of here, because if I’m not here, then I can pretend this isn’t happening. I can’t do this without her. She was my reason. My person. My everything.
Calli puts her hand out to stop me, but I jerk away. I can’t handle her touch. Listening to her voice is hard enough.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. Turning around, I run, and I don’t stop until I’m outside.
I get back to the hotel, where I’m surrounded by her. Her smell. Her belongings. Her memories. She’s everywhere and I can’t escape. I’m still in shock that she’s gone. All I want to do is sleep so I can escape the pain consuming me.
My hands shake as I raid the mini-bar, looking for anything that might knock me out. It’s all useless, so I call the reception and order a bottle of scotch. I slump down in the chair, defeated and alone, with no clue where to go from here. I can’t close my eyes, because she’s there, haunting me.
I jump at the sound of the knock on the door and get up. Yanking the door open, I grab the bottle from the porter and mumble something that resembles a thank you before slamming the door in his face.
My hands shake as I unscrew the lid and sit on the end of the bed. Our bed. I grab a glass and fill it, ignoring the tiny grey line a third of the way up the glass that indicates a standard drink. The liquid burns as it slides down my throat. It’s just what I need, a distraction from the pain. I down another glass, then lie down in the same spot where I held her last night.
I glance over to the bedside table and see her painkillers. Without thinking, I get up and walk over to them. I unscrew the lid, shaking a few pills into my hand. I throw them in my mouth, washing them down with another glass of scotch. I don’t care anymore. Life is too fucking cruel for me to give a shit about anything. I had her for less than three months, and now I’ll never see her again.
Throwing myself back down on the bed, I’m feeling woozy. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or the meds, but something is kicking in and it feels good. I close my eyes and remember last night, before everything went to shit. I held her in my arms as she told me she loved me. I curse and roll over. I’m so fucking tired. I feel like I didn’t sleep at all last night, and then today…
I can’t even think about today.
Flicking open my eyes, I curse at the pounding in my head and then close them again. The banging on the door continues, and I remember that’s what woke me in the first place. I lie there, ignoring it, for as long as I can, until it becomes too much. Angry, I drag myself out of bed, my feet thumping on the floor as I stalk towardss the door. I swing it open with so much force it hits the wall.
“What,” I growl. I scowl at Calli through my half-closed eyes.
She jumps, her eyes wide. She looks terrified and I don’t blame her. I’d be scared of me too at the moment.
“Cade,” she whispers. Her voice jolts through me. She sounds so much like Erin I can barely stand it. “I-I came to see how you are.”
“How the fuck do I look?” I mutter.
“Can I come in?” she asks hesitantly.
I sigh, quiet for a long time, before I step aside.
“Sure, if it gets rid of you faster,” I mumble.
She looks taken aback by my comment, but follows me inside. I lie back down on the bed and throw my arms over my head to shield out the light. I can feel her awkwardly standing there, as if she’s not sure what to do or say.
“What are you doing here, Calli?” I growl. I just want to be left alone to dull the pain.
“I told you I wanted to see how you are,” she says.
“Why bother? We’re done communicating now, right? I upheld my end of the deal. You paid me. We’re even, right? What’s the problem?”
“You know what the problem is.” Her voice is soft. “This whole thing didn’t exactly go to plan.”
“When does life ever go to plan?” I ask bitterly.
I lower my arms and glare at her. What have I got to do to get her to leave?
She glances around, taking in the half-empty bottle of scotch on the coffee table next to the pills. Her forehead creases. She walks over to them and picks up the bottle. Her eyes widen.
“Erin’s painkillers,” she gasps. “Are you serious, Cade?”
“It’s none of your business what I do in my room.” I get up and grab her arm, leading her to the door. “I think this conversation is o
ver.”
“You’re not the only one hurting, Cade.” Her words barely register because I’m still so strung out. “I lost her too,” she whispers, but I’m not listening.
I stumble back to the bed and fall back to sleep before she’s even closed the door.
Hours later I wake up with an intense need to pee. I stumble over to the bathroom, stubbing my toe on the doorframe along the way.
“Fuck,” I growl as pain throbs through it. It’s light outside, so either I’ve been asleep for a hell of a long time or a very short time. I’m not sure which is worse. I do what I need to do, wash my hands, and then hobble over to the couch. My toe throbs as I sit down to inspect it. Too bad. I think I’ll live.
Sighing, I pick up my phone. Holy shit. Eighteen missed calls. Most are from Mum, but there a few from Calli, and a text from Chris, making sure I’m okay. I toss it aside, not in the mood to talk to anyone.
My stomach growls, but I can’t bothered eating. I can’t be bothered doing much of anything at all. Except maybe drinking. Yeah, I can be bothered doing that.
I reach over to the coffee table and grab the scotch, sculling it straight from the bottle. I glance around the room and wince. I pity the cleaner who gets to deal with this mess. I flick on the TV just for the distraction and noise before retreating to the bed. My head pounds, but I’ve taken so many painkillers that I don’t trust myself with any more.
Instead I just lie there, thinking about how I failed her. I hate myself for not saving her, and I’ll punish myself because that’s what I deserve. I don’t believe I’ll ever feel anything other than the soul-crushing pain I do now.
They say it gets better over time, but I call bullshit.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cade
Today is the first day since Erin died where feel like I can almost function.
The last few days have been a haze of drinking, sleeping, and not much else. I’ve been dodging calls from my family since Erin died three days ago. It’s been three whole days. Three days that I have very little recollection of because I’ve been off my head drunk.
Then I remember Calli. God, I treated her like shit.
She’s probably hurting more than I am, and I said some God-awful things to her. I cringe, wishing I could erase everything. I grab my phone, desperate to speak to her, because at least this is something I can fix. Groaning, I clutch my stomach. I feel sick, but I’m not sure if it’s my body punishing me for the bucketloads of alcohol or guilt that I’m feeling.
Me: Are you still in London? Can we meet up today?
She replies almost instantly.
Calli: I’m still here. Are you going to attack me again?
Me: I want to apologize
Calli: Meet me in Hyde Park then. Half hour.
I jump in the shower, washing the shame of the last few days from my body. As quick as I’m in, I’m out, dried, and dressed. I grab my wallet and the hotel card and head towards the elevator.
Erin would’ve loved this place.
I walk through the gates of Hyde Park, sadness engulfing me. It’s just her kind of thing: towering green trees, laughing birds, children running and laughing through the lush green grass. I shove my hands in my pockets and walk over to the edge of the lake, trying to think about anything other than her. But she’s everywhere. It’s like my heart is being ripped from my chest. Is this what it’s going to be like from now on? Every place I go will leave me thinking of her?
I knew the chances of her surviving the operation were small, but I’d convinced myself that she was going to be okay. She had to be okay, because we’d just found each other. I should have been prepared. I should have been open to the possibility that I might lose her, but every part of my being was sure she was going to get through that surgery.
“There you are.”
I turn around. Calli stands there, wrapped up in a thick jacket so big it looks like it swallowed her. The matching pink beanie on her head pushes me over the edge and I chuckle. She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Erin once told me you hated the cold weather,” I explain with a grin. It’s the first time I’ve laughed in days. “That’s the first time I thought of her and not felt like crying.” I pause, shaking my head. “How do you do it?” I ask. “You knew her longer than I did, but you’re handling this so well. I need to know your secret, because every second I feel like I’m going to fall apart.”
“I’m not handling it well,” she replies, her green eyes empty. “I’m as broken as you are, only I try to hide because I need to be strong for my parents.”
“How are they?” I ask softly. That should’ve been my first question.
“Not good, but they’ll be okay.”
“How do you know that?” I ask. How can she be sure they’ll get through this? How can any of us be sure that we will get over her and move on?
She smiles helplessly. “Because what choice do they have?”
We grab a coffee at a nearby cart and walk around the park. We don’t say much, both lost in our own thoughts, but knowing the other is feeling the same loss says more than words ever could.
“I owe you an apology,” I say, turning to her. I hope she can see how sincere I am.
“You don’t owe me anything, Cade. You were hurting. I knew that wasn’t you talking. I’m just glad you’re keeping it together now. That would make Erin happy.” She smiles, and gazes out across the park. “I came to see you because she asked me to. Before she died. She made me promise to keep an eye on you.”
“She asked you that?” I mumble. I swallow past the lump in my throat, fighting back tears. That sounds like something she would do.
“She loved you, Cade. I’ve never seen her like that with anyone. You’ll always have that, you know.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “What are you going to do now? Go back home?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. I have eighteen grand in the bank and nothing tying me back home. I hesitate, a morbid thought entering my head. “What’s happening with her body?”
“She’s coming home with us tomorrow,” Calli says through her tears. “She planned her funeral all by herself shortly after she found out she was terminal.”
That’s Erin. Always in control, even after she’s gone.
“She wants…” She hesitates before correcting herself. “…wanted to be cremated because she hated the thought of being in the soil. She said if she was cremated then she could go anywhere and do anything.”
I smile. I like that.
“Knowing that no matter where I am, there might be a little piece of her there with me is strangely comforting,” I say, my voice thick. “I’m thinking of continuing our trip, actually.” It’s something I literally just decide that very second. It’s the best way I know to be close to her, and right now that’s all I want.
“Will you be coming back for the funeral?” she asks softly.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly.
She nods, and I know she understands. “I better get back. We still have things to sort out, and I don’t want to leave Mum and Dad alone for too long.”
I lean over and hug her, kissing her on the cheek.
She smiles at me. “Keep in touch, okay?”
After she leaves, I walk through the city streets alone with my thoughts. It starts to rain so I duck into the pub I’m passing. I haven’t eaten in days, and though I’m not hungry, I order a pizza. I get a soda to go with it because I don’t trust myself with anything stronger.
Leaning back in my chair, I run my hands through my hair. Where would I go from here? I love the idea of taking her memory around the world with me. There are so many places I know she would have loved, had she been given the chance to see them. If she were here she’d say I’m avoiding my life back home, and maybe she’d be right, but for now that’s the only way I can see myself getting through this.
I wait until the rain dies down before going back to the hotel. I sit on the bed and stare at her suitcase,
wondering if I dare go through it. Anything to feel closer to her. Besides, it should be going home with her where it belongs, and in order to do that, I need to pack it.
I spy something sitting on the top of the case and smile. Her Romeo and Juliet shirt. I walk over, sinking to the floor beside her case. I sift through the other trinkets she bought during our trip: a small Eiffel Tower, some perfumes, her mask. I smile fondly, remembering how excited she was to see Venice.
I keep the shirt for myself, burying my face in the soft fabric. I breathe in, her scent overwhelming me. I close my eyes and it’s like she’s right here with me.
“I miss you so much,” I whisper. I listen to the silence, waiting for a response that never comes. God, this is too much.
I shove everything except the shirt back into her case and zip it shut. Something falls out of the front pocket as I’m struggling to move it. It’s an envelope. I pick it up and turn it over. My name stares back at me, scrawled in her handwriting. I run my finger over the ink.
What is this? Taking a deep breath, I tear open the envelope and pull out a letter.
Dear Cade,
Where do I even begin?
Firstly, I hope you haven’t forgotten that you still owe me for that jump. You didn’t think you were getting out of it, did you? And because I think you’ll agree that it’s in bad taste to argue with a dead girl, I’m giving you three things that I want you to do.
The first thing you’re going to do is be strong. You probably feel like your world is crumbling down around you right now, but you can get through this. I’ll be right there by your side, every step of the way, but you need to do your bit. You’ve worked so hard to get your life back on track, please don’t let my passing derail everything. You have so much to live for, and so much to look forward to. Remember that.
My second request is I want you to live for me. Do all the things I never got to do. See the world. Try new experiences. Go back and finish your degree. You will make an amazing doctor one day because you’re passionate and caring—two traits that are rare in doctors these days. I want you to push yourself, and believe in yourself and never put yourself down.
Don't Hold Back (Love Hurts Book 4) Page 19