If she dies, my life will be over. That might sound dramatic, but some types of love you can’t carry on without. I wouldn’t even know how to live without her anymore. She is the centre of my world. Everything I now do is built around her—what I think she’d like, when I’m going to see her, or where we want our future to be.
I don’t want a tomorrow if she doesn’t finish today.
“I found a house,” I tell her. “I was going to surprise you. It happened completely by accident. It’s my parents’ neighbour. Don’t worry; they’re still a mile away, but their house is only a few years old. It’s modern, the way you like, and I’m already planning to attach a tyre to a tree over the stream.”
I pull back a little to look at her. To make sure she’s still with me. My breath catches. Her skin is pale, lips tinted the tiniest bit blue.
“Savannah, fight,” I whisper.
Fuck.
Savannah’s chest stops moving.
“No!” I shout. “Help!”
My arms shake. I lay her down. She needs CPR.
“Fuck no, don’t do this to me, babe.” I look over my shoulder and shout, “Help!”
Isla leaves Simon, still being pinned under her dad, and runs over. “Oh God.”
“Put pressure on the wound,” I snap, placing my palms over her chest.
I push down hard. Really hard. Bringing my hands up and down in succession, I pump her chest, willing her heart to start beating again.
Come on, baby, come on.
I pump.
She can’t leave me.
My eyes well. I blink tears. Fear wraps around my lungs and squeezes.
I pump. Down. Up. Down. Up.
Please, Savannah. Please breathe.
She can have mine. I’ll trade places with her in an instant. She’s so sweet, so strong, and so independent. All she needs to do is believe in herself more, and my girl could conquer the world. Savannah can’t be the one to leave. Not her.
I pump.
Isla chants, “Oh God.”
In the distance, I can hear their mum frantically relaying information to whoever has arrived first. Police or paramedics. I need it to be the paramedics.
Savannah’s life is in my hands, and it’s agony.
Come on, breathe.
I pump.
I love you. Don’t leave me.
My palms force down into her chest, and with each compression, each time my hands get close to her heart, I’m begging her to fight as hard as I am.
“Savannah,” I mumble as my efforts seem to have no effect.
Footsteps thud toward us.
Paramedics. Through tears, I see clothes.
One of them, a female, fires questions that I’m unable to answer.
How long have I been doing chest compressions?
I don’t know. Forever.
Isla has the answers and relays the information they need.
I can’t see anything but her still chest.
I can’t hear anything other than the sound of my own pulse. And I wish I could give it to her.
I’m being moved. Slumping back, I brace myself on my hands and stare dumbly at my future fading in front of me.
My heart is beating too fast.
I’m fucking overheating.
She’s going to die.
They’re going to tell me there’s nothing more they can do for her.
There will be a funeral.
I can’t go to her funeral.
My fingers cut into the wooden floorboards under me.
I can’t fucking breathe.
Is this how she felt before she stopped breathing?
They’re shocking her. Her chest jumps up.
Nothing.
Jump.
Nothing.
39
Kent
Savannah, come on.
Jump.
“There it is,” one of them says. “Okay, let’s get her out of here.”
Closing my eyes, I drop my head back and breathe in relief.
Oh fuck. Thank fuck.
She’s alive.
She’s alive, and she’s going to be okay. She has to be.
I stand as they carefully put her on the gurney and lift her up, my tears not yet drying but falling for another reason.
As I turn, the police run into my apartment. I ignore them as they head for Simon on the floor, and I go with Savannah.
Neither one of her parents asks if they can go in the ambulance. There is no way in hell I would allow that to happen anyway. Savannah wants them out of her life for the most part, so the person she needs to see when she wakes up is me.
We head down in the lift, both paramedics focused on her, checking her pulse.
I can’t keep my eyes off her. She’s so beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky. When she wakes up, I won’t waste another second. I won’t ever let anything get in the way of us again.
“She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?” I mutter, not able to tear my eyes away from her face.
“It’s looking good right now, but we can’t promise.”
I press my lips together. They can’t promise. Of course they can’t, but that’s not good enough.
The lift doors slide open, and we race out toward the ambulance parked right outside the building. They load the gurney in, and I jump up, too.
One of the paramedics slams the back door shut and goes to drive.
“Can I hold her hand?” I ask, desperate to touch her, to feel warmth.
He looks up from where he’s checking her pupils. “Of course. Talk to her as much as you can.”
I reach out, hesitating for a second because I’m fucking scared that she won’t be warm. When my hand touches hers, I feel the connection in my whole body. Closing my eyes, I savour the moment and how she makes me feel.
“Hey, babe,” I say, flicking my eyes open and giving her hand a squeeze. I rub my thumb over her knuckles. “We’re on our way to the hospital, so they can take care of you. Once they’re finished, it’s over to me. And you know that means my mum, too. You think she’s over the top on birthdays; you wait and see what she does when someone’s unwell.”
Mum is going to love fussing over her, almost as much as I am.
“Don’t worry; I’ll rein her in. She’s going to want to move in with us until you’re better, but I’ll get Dad on board. It’ll just be you and me, the way it’s supposed to be.”
I continue to talk to her for the next ten minutes about absolute bullshit. The ambulance pulls to a stop.
The back door is opened, and I’m suddenly struggling to keep up. She’s wheeled into Accident and Emergency, the paramedics relaying the information that Isla gave them. I follow, but once we reach the double doors inside, I’m stopped.
“You can’t come any further.”
I can’t go any further.
She’s on her own now.
Who’s going to make her fight?
She nearly died back there.
The paramedic in the ambulance told me to keep talking to her.
Shouldn’t I keep talking to her?
I watch the double doors swing gently until they stop. The receptionist who took Savannah’s details when she fractured her wrist comes over. She gives me information about where to wait because Savannah is going straight into surgery.
The hospital seems a lot bigger than before. The corridors area is like a maze. I’ve been told there’s a waiting room, and someone will come and find me there when there is news. So, I go because there’s nothing else I can do for her now. I text my parents and Heidi on the way. I fucking need them right now.
My parents are the first ones to burst through the door, shortly followed by Heidi and Brooke.
I’ve not relied on a fucking hug from my mum since I was a kid, but the second her arms wrap around me, I almost collapse into them.
“I thought she was dead,” I rasp, trying to ignore the very real fact that she might still leave me.
“Shh, I know. I
t’s okay, Kent. She’s going to be fine,” she coos into my ear.
I want to believe that, but there’s this masochistic part of me that can’t help thinking about her dying.
“Let’s sit, son,” Dad says, leading me and Mum to seats in the corner.
Heidi and Brooke give me a hug before sitting down, too.
“What happened?” Brooke asks.
My mind flashes back. The knife. My scream. Savannah falling in my arms. The fear that I thought might cripple me.
I tell the story, almost robotically, relaying the facts and trying to keep the emotion out. I can’t talk about how scared I was.
“She’s going to be okay,” Heidi says. She sounds so sure of herself. “Where are her parents now?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
They could be talking to the police. They’re probably making sure Isla is okay.
Pushing my arms out, I try to relieve the ache.
“What’s wrong?” Mum asks, watching me stretch out my muscles.
My arms are fucking killing me. Why haven’t I noticed that? As soon as I do, they throb.
“Nothing,” I grit through my teeth, my heart tying in knots.
“Tell me, Kent.” She puts her hand on my forearm.
“I had to …” Fuck. Breathing deeply through my nose, I manage to say, “She stopped … I had to do chest compressions.” And, now, my arms ache like fuck. It’s a bitter physical reminder of the worst fucking moment of my life.
Dipping my head, I close my eyes. More tears fall.
“Oh my God,” Heidi gasps.
I’m swarmed by more than one set of arms as my family pulls close.
We wait. One hour. Then, two.
Time is supposed to be the one consistent thing. A minute is always sixty seconds. An hour is always sixty minutes. But, when you’re waiting for something, when your whole future is suspended in the air, time crawls.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Heidi asks.
I know what she’s asking. And, no, I don’t want to talk about trying to revive my girlfriend after she technically died.
I couldn’t do it. If the paramedics hadn’t turned up, she would be dead.
The sting in my chest intensifies. I roughly rub over my heart with the palm of my hand.
I’m about to leave the room and get some air because the walls are closing in, and my nerves are burned, but the door swings open.
My heart stops. “How is she?”
The doctor smiles. “She had an internal bleed, but we’ve managed to repair the damage. She’s been in recovery and doing really well. I can take you to her now.”
My back straightens, heart soaring. “I can go now?”
She smiles again. “She’s just been transferred to the ward. Only one for now though.”
“That’s fine,” I say.
Everyone else can wait.
“We’ll follow you to the ward and wait outside until we can see her, too,” Mum says as they gather their things.
I’m already out the door with the doctor and following her down the corridor. She leads me somewhere around the other fucking side of the hospital. My pulse quickens as she swipes her card and pushes the door open to Ward E.
Savannah is in the first room. The lighting is low, like it’s nighttime. She’s lying in bed, her head slightly raised.
Her eyes flick to me, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest.
“You’re awake,” I breathe.
“Hi,” she rasps, blinking heavily.
I stride to her bed and sit down. Stroking her cheek, I say, “You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” she repeats. Her voice is low, almost a yawn. “I love you.”
“Savannah.” Her name is a whisper. “Babe, I love you so much. You scared the shit out of me back there.”
“Scared me, too.” Her eyes tear as she stares at me like she’s seeing me for the first time again. “I didn’t want to go to sleep. I could hear your voice, and I wanted to stay like you said, but I couldn’t—”
“Shh.” I lean over and kiss her lips. “None of that matters now. You’re here, and I’m never leaving your side again.”
“Not ever?”
“Not even while you pee.”
She scrunches her nose, making me laugh.
I kiss her again.
Epilogue
Savannah
One Year Later
“I want more,” Kent murmurs into my ear as he rolls beside me.
I flop my arm over his chest, facing him. He’s lying on his back, chest rising and falling heavily, but his head faces me, like always.
“You literally just came.”
He narrows his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want another orgasm.”
I glue my lips together. Only crazy people don’t want lots of orgasms. “I cannot lie to my husband.”
His eyes flit closed. “That’s the first time you’ve called me that.”
“We’ve been married for only a few hours, Kent.”
He shrugs and pulls me into his arms. I lay my head on his chest and listen to the sound of his heart racing. Kent kisses the top of my head. He’s been amazing this last year.
After the showdown and Simon stabbing me, I’ve not seen my family. Occasionally, my mum and dad send a message to let me know they still love me, but for the most part, they respect that I don’t want them in my life.
Simon is in prison still—thankfully. Mum said he’s receiving help, but I shut her down because I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to waste a second thinking about him ever again. When he gets out, I’ll get a restraining order.
I recovered quickly from the surgery, though Kent kept fussing over me for a lot longer. Can’t say I didn’t love every second of it though. We both had three weeks off work, and we spent it on the sofa, not letting go of each other.
Since everything came out, I feel so much lighter. Kent knows it all, and there’s no need for me to worry about someone from my past turning up. Looking back, I wish I’d come clean straightaway, but I wasn’t sure that Kent really wanted a relationship, and I wasn’t ready to talk about the miscarriage.
He’s been amazing with that, too. Once my family was out of my life, I started to grieve properly for the baby I’d lost. Kent took me to the stream at the end of his parents’ garden where he handed me flowers to send down the flowing water and a yellow balloon to let go. We lay on the grass until the balloon disappeared. It was really lovely to do something to say good-bye.
I hadn’t realised how important that was until he took me out that day. I broke down for the last time, and now, I’m able to look up at the stars and imagine my little angel flying high. It still hurts when I think about the one I lost, and sometimes, I have a cry, but I’m so much better now.
“Can we blow off our own reception and stay in bed?” he asks.
Three hours ago, we had our ceremony, followed by dinner. Now, we’re waiting until eight p.m. to have a massive party with family—not mine obviously—and friends.
“You know, I think they would notice.”
“That’s not what I asked, babe. I don’t give a shit if we’re missed tonight. I’m asking if we can do it.”
“No.”
“But this is our wedding night.”
“Your mum spent a lot of time, energy, and money on this reception, and we’re not missing it. Besides, I want to cut my cake and have my first dance. Those are things I’ve dreamed about since I was little.”
Sighing, he replies, “Why couldn’t you have dreamed about fucking your husband senseless?”
“When I was a kid?” I say flatly.
He frowns, pouting like a baby. Reaching forward, I bite his bottom lip, and he laughs, pulling his head away.
“I love it when you bite.” Pulling me closer, he presses his slick body against mine. I’m definitely going to have to redo my hair and makeup before we leave this room. “Now, how about you put that mouth to good use
?”
“I will if you will.”
His nostrils flare at my suggestion. “You have no fucking idea how much I love you, Savannah.”
“Ditto.”
Though I think I have some idea. Every day, he proves by little things or big things he does or says. I’ve never been happier.
Kent scrambles down to the end of the bed and lies on his back. “I’m ready, sweetheart. Come sit on my face.”
Sighing with a little dramatic flair, I get on all fours and shuffle down. There really is no elegant way to do this, but Kent groans in response to me backing up. He seems to think everything I do is sexy, and I sincerely hope that never stops.
He makes me feel sexy, to be honest, so I very slowly lower myself down and then wrap my hand around the base of his cock. His moan is muffled as his lips cover my clit.
Holy fuck.
I circle my hips, grinding against his tongue, as I take his erection into my mouth. Kent’s fingers grip my thighs, and I press my lips together and suck. Kent thrusts upward, trying and a little bit failing to control the movement so that he doesn’t choke me. Secretly, I love it when he loses control.
My lips are stretched around his erection as I take him deeper. He groans loudly and flattens his tongue. It’s intense as fucking hell.
I pump his cock and run my tongue over the tip. He grows, tightening his grip.
Kent rolls his tongue harder, faster, and keeps hold of my thighs, so I can’t move. It’s maddening, as I need to move. I need the friction because I’m so close. The throbbing between my legs is getting unbearable.
My body bursts into flames down to my toes. I’m too hot, too close. I just want to come, and the way he’s flicking my clit, I know it won’t be long.
He’s so good at this.
I hollow my cheeks and pump the base of his cock with my hand as my body builds and then falls apart. Kent lets go of my thighs, and I rock, riding out my orgasm at the same time he groans against my flesh and spills into my mouth.
Swinging my leg over, I collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily.
He chuckles. “You’re perfect, babe. That was perfect.”
“Yeah, it was.”
I’m sensitive as hell down there now. My body is still floating on an orgasmic high, legs like jelly and heart pounding. He makes me feel this way every time we’re together, and I can’t get enough.
Lie to Me Page 30