by Coco Miller
“Oh, god.” A sob leaves me when I see Duncan on the floor, blood trickling from his lips. “Duncan.”
I put pressure on the hole in his chest to try and stop the onslaught of blood slipping through my fingers.
“Duncan? Baby, can you hear me?”
He coughs and those beautiful eyes of his flutter open. Duncan gives me that tilted smirk that always sends me into somersaults, but it isn’t as bright as usual.
He’s tired. His left-hand lands on mine covering his chest, and I notice the gold ring on his finger has blood on it. I lean over him and give him a kiss on the lips not caring about the blood.
“Hey, baby.”
He tries to open his mouth, but I place a finger over his lips.
“Don’t speak. It’s okay. I know,” I nod. “I know you love me. I’m not ready to let you go, Duncan. Fight, okay? You have to fight for me. For us. What were you thinking jumping in front of bullets? You’re a crazy man.”
The paramedics burst through the door and I don’t move my hands. I keep them on his chest, so I can try and save every bit of blood I can while they prepare to take him to the hospital.
“I’m crazy,” he wheezes. “For you.”
“Such a romantic even near—” I realize what I almost said and turn away.
“Near-death,” Duncan whispers. “That’s how all the classic love stories end.”
They take Duncan’s vitals, put him on a gurney, and start rolling him down the hall. I jog right beside the gurney making sure to keep my eyes on him. I won’t be out of his sight again.
“Not ours, Duncan. Ours isn’t a classic and it ain’t ending yet.”
They stroll my man into the elevator and I never leave his side, only noticing after a moment that it’s the same elevator Mr. Salvatore slapped me in.
Duncan saved my life. That big, bleeding heart has no bounds for the people he loves. I’m so lucky he loves me.
The elevator dings and everyone who is having fun gambling turns to us, gasping and murmuring, trying to figure out what happened on their own terms.
“That’s Duncan Gold,” people whisper.
It’s one thing about wealthy people, they all seem to know each other. After getting through the cloud of curiosity, we make it outside to the cool Vegas night and the paramedics load him in the ambulance.
“Mrs. Gold? Are you coming with us?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation and climb in the back of the box. Rowan and Easton run to their car when they see me driving away in the ambulance. I stare down at Duncan, his face pale, blood dried on his skin, oxygen over his mouth, and his slow heartbeat on the monitor. It doesn’t give me much hope.
After all this time of loving each other from afar, love is what is going to take him from me. It is his love for me that got him into this position. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it, letting him know that I’m here.
“I’m so sorry,” I place my forehead against his knuckles and weep. I’m not sure what else to do. I just want him to be okay. Losing him, I’ll lose myself.
Duncan is the happy feeling I get when I’ve had a really great day. Even the years of not being together, when I thought about him, when I researched him a little on social media. Seeing him out there, knowing he was still out there, made me feel safe. Made me happy.
Now that we’re together, I smile all the time. His love for everyone and everything is infectious and contagious. I start feeling and doing more good whenever I feel that energy. He’s the sun in my heart when it’s pouring rain, still keeping me light on my feet during the most savage storm.
He’s the journey I’m meant to take.
I had to be without him for a while, to miss him, to yearn for him, in order to appreciate what we have today.
“He’s going into V−fib,” the dark−haired paramedic says, grabbing two paddles. The other medic rips open Duncan’s chest and I sit back and watch in horror as the hum of the machine charging gets ready to zap the dying heart of Duncan.
“Come on, man, I’ve seen guys make it through worse,” the medic says to Duncan who is unconscious at this point.
“Clear.”
He places the paddles on Duncan’s chest and hits him with a bolt of electricity.
This time it’s a flatline.
“No! Duncan!” I scream through a soul−breaking sob. “You can’t leave me yet! We only just started.”
“Clear,” the man zaps him again, and Duncan’s body arches and falls from the intensity of it.
“Nothing.”
The medics look at each other as if Duncan may be a lost cause.
“No,” I cry out, holding onto my stomach when it turns and knots. I feel sick. “Duncan,” I whisper and lean to his ear, petting his hair as I talk to him. “Come back to me, baby. I love you. Don’t leave me like this, not like this. Please, we have each other now. Don’t go.”
I step back when the medic announces he is going to try again. “One last time, clear!”
And we wait..watching his body rise and fall again, and then we see something. The heart monitor jumps from the electric shock. The monitor beeps again, and again, and again.
“We have a rhythm. It’s weak, but it’s there.”
I gran Duncan’s hand tight and place my cheek against it as I cry. “Thank you, baby. Thank you for not giving up,” I whisper, clutching his hand like I’m feeling it for the last time.
We pull into the hospital, tires screeching as they come to a stop, and the medic opens the doors, dragging the gurney out. When I get out, Rowan and Easton pull right behind the ambulance, turning their flashers on and get out.
“GSW to the chest and shoulder lost him on route. He’s lost a lot of blood,” the medic states to the doctor running alongside Duncan as they run through the double doors to take Duncan in the back.
“Prep an OR right now and give me all the O−neg blood you can find. Let’s go,” the doctor barks orders at everyone around him and they move in a synchronized frenzy.
A nurse stops me from entering. “You can’t go past here, ma’am.”
“That’s my husband!” I yell, pointing toward the large emergency double doors that he was just pushed through. “I need to get back there.”
“I can’t let you do that, ma’am. I’m sorry. They are taking him to surgery. You have to wait out here.”
“But he’s my husband,” I say in a trance. “He’s finally my husband.”
“Naomi?” Easton embraces me in a tight hug. “He’ll be all right. He’s tough. We just have to wait.”
“I have blood on my hands,” I mutter as I pull away from him, flipping them over to stare at how red they are. “So much blood.”
“She’s in shock,” Rowan says right as my eyes roll to the back of my head, and I succumb to something other than this reality.
15
Duncan
The whooshing of cold air flowing into my nose wakes me up. Opening my eyes, I wince when the light pierces straight to my brain. Fuck, that hurts. It all hurts.
I look down to see what the problem is. My arm is in a sling and my chest is wrapped tightly. I look like a mummy. I touch it with my free and holy shit, I’ve never felt so much pain in my entire life. My eyes water when pain makes it hard to breathe.
“Duncan?”
Ah, I know that accent.
“Rowan,” I gasp and for a split second I swear I see dust coming from my mouth since it’s so dry.
“Here.”
He brings a cup of water to my lips with a straw, and I suck the cold liquid down greedily.
“Woah, slow down. Too much too soon, brother.”
He takes the cup away from me and I almost want to cry.
“Naomi?” I croak.
“She’s in the next room over; Easton’s with her.”
My heart rate speeds up on the monitor. “Is she okay? What happened to her? Why is she in the hospital?”
“Calm down, lad. Ye wife is okay. She went into shock when the
y wouldn’t let her go back to be with ye. She fainted but come to find out that her spleen was bleeding. It seems the bastard kicked her pretty hard in that elevator.”
My fists clench at the thought of him hurting her. I had been so close to killing him. He was in my reach and I let go. I fucking let go!
“Where is he now?”
“I took care of it,” he says. I notice the faint amount of blood around the collar of his shirt.
“What’s that mean?” I manage to eek out.
“It means you won’t have to worry about him. He tried to kill ye, I was in my right to kill him back. I have a pretty far reach, lad.”
I have no idea what he means by that, but the threat is gone permanently. That’s what matters.
“He’s dead?”
“Six−feet under, my friend.”
“Thank you.” I cough and groan when it rattles the pain in my chest. “Being shot sucks.”
He brings the water to me again and smiles. “Death would be worse.”
“You don’t say?” I take a sip of the water and lay my head down on the pillow. “She’s okay? They stopped the bleeding and everything?”
“She’s fine. She might have a wee scar; that’s what they said.”
“Wee?”
“A wee one,” he repeats, crossing his leg over his knee.
I have so many questions for this guy, like who the hell is he and how he knows Easton, but the door opens and the doctor comes in. Before he can say a word, Easton follows pushing a very tired, albeit beautiful Naomi Gold into my room.
“Naomi,” I say, my eyes filling to the brim with tears.
“Duncan,” she tries to get up but Easton stops her to keep her in the wheelchair.
“You’ll bust your stitches. It’s like dealing with a feral cat this one. She tried so many times to come to you, and I think I earned some scratches keeping her back.”
“Damn right you did,” she says. She takes my hand when she gets close enough, staring at it like she saw a ghost and kisses all over the back of my hand. “I thought I had lost you.”
“Nothing could keep me away from you, Naomi.”
“It almost did.”
“No, I would have never left, not when I just got you.”
She tries to stand, but her hand drops to her side and pain scrunches her face.
“Relax, little kitty,” Easton says. “You can kiss each other when you’re all better.”
The doctor laughs, writing down something in the chart. Apparently, he agrees.
“Your friend is right, Mr. Gold. You were lucky, as was your wife. A person can live without a spleen, but they can die from internal bleeding if it isn’t caught soon enough. She will heal quicker than you, so you have a much longer recovery. Being shot in the chest isn’t something to take lightly and your arm, you might always have pain there forever. Nothing will be the same after this.”
As I see Naomi and her big green eyes I’ve loved for nearly half my life, I know that this is the time for things to be different. I don’t ever want our lives to be the same as they were before. This is a wake−up call. A time to live my life to the best I can. A time to live with intention.
No more grieving.
No more wallowing.
No more being stuck.
I know where I need to go now and it’s in the direction of my wife. She’s the person I have to take care of now.
“You’ll need physical therapy for that arm in a few weeks,” the doctor continues.
“What kind of physical therapy and how physically are we talking?” I ask, sending Naomi a wink.
“Duncan,” she scolds. “You’re throat. Stop talking.”
“He’s halfway dead and makin’ sex jokes.” Rowan rubs a hand over his beard and then scratches behind his ear.
Easton is nodding, wiggling his brows at me. He supports me. That’s all I need.
“I’m afraid sex is out of the equation for a while, Mr. Gold.”
“All sex?”
“What’s that?”
“Duncan, let it go.” Naomi places her head on my good shoulder and once I feel her again, her warmth against mine, I know there is no way I’ll be able to stay away from her. I have to touch her.
“Oral sex? An old-fashioned handy? Can I also reciprocate?”
“Is this what we’re really talking about right now?” Naomi fusses.
“Depends on the position. No weight on the front of your body, Mr. Gold.” The doctor slams the medical chart closed and shakes his head smiling. “Oh, to be young.”
“You’re insatiable.” She says smiling at me with a grin that was blessed by the sun.
I cup the side of her face and finally feel her soft kiss on my dry, rough lips. My heart rate spikes again for entirely different reasons than health-related ones.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you too, Duncan. So much.”
It may be a long road to recovery but our path is paved into eternity.
We are destined. Like a classic love story always is.
Always has been. Always will be.
Epilogue
Naomi
Two years later
We are on the coast of Australia, watching the waves crash against the cliffside while we sip coffee on our balcony. The sun is high and hot, the water is blue, and if I squint my eyes, I can see the surfers trying to catch their next wave.
Duncan has taken me everywhere in the last two years. I’ve been around the world, eaten food that I never thought I’d taste, and met people I’ll always remember in this lifetime. Now we have settled down, and we spend three months out of the year in Australia, our favorite place that we have visited so far.
I get up and stretch and his eyes linger on my hips. It’s bikini season and the three months that we are here, he never lets me wear anything else. Men are so damn visual.
“Do you need anything from the kitchen?”
“No, I’m going to call the flower shop back home and have them deliver flowers to mom.”
I rub the scar on his chest. It reminds us both of the bullet he took for me that was so close to his heart. I bend over to kiss his cheek when he turns his head at the last minute to make my lips instead.
“I love you, Duncan. We can go home whenever you want—”
“I know that.”
He stands with me, the wind wrapping around us, and I get a whiff of his aftershave. I place my ear against his chest, right against the scar, and listen to the heartbeat that I’m so grateful I was able to hear again.
Ba−dum, ba−dum, ba−dum.
I’m so thankful for this sound. It’s something not everyone thinks to listen to, but I do, every day, whenever I can. I listen to remind myself that he is here, that I love him, and for me to cherish every moment of his life.
“I love you for that, Naomi, but I don’t want to go live in the past. We’re not going to fly across the world to visit a grave.” He taps his chest. “I have her inside of here.”
He says that every time I bring it up.
“Okay,” I stand on my tiptoes and kiss the underside of his chin. “I’m getting coffee.”
“I’ll miss you,” he says and I roll my eyes afterwards. He’s so dramatic.
“I’m not going to be far. Relish the time you have away from me,” I tease, stepping inside the cold a/c of the house. “It’s the only time you’ll get.”
“Never,” I hear him say in a whisper, not expecting me to hear.
I grin, closing the door behind me as I step inside the two-bedroom cottage. It’s an open floor plan, not big, but the view is breathtaking. We have bamboo floors and beige walls to keep it open and airy. The kitchen is painted teal to bring some color into the place and has stainless steel appliances with a large farmer’s sink.
I bypass the kitchen and head straight to the restroom. I’ve been on birth control ever since we met. Even when I wasn’t having sex I was on it because it helps with my period, and as much as he want
s to knock me up, he also wanted to show me the world.
We put kids on hold until we decided to settle down somewhere, but now that we have, we’ve talked about it, and I’ve stopped taking my birth control a few months ago. If it happens, it happens; if not, well, I don’t want to think about that.
I want nothing more than to see what our child will look like. The color of their eyes, the perfect combination of their skin, their hair, their laugh. I want to know everything, and I want to hold him or her and kiss the tops of their heads, smelling that baby smell.
I sigh as if I have the weight of the world on my shoulders and lock the door. I dig under the cabinet and open the box of pregnancy tests, tearing away the clear wrapper. It’s so small, so simple, yet it contains the answer to everything. I let out a breath and pull my pants down, sit on the toilet, and let the pee stream onto the stick.
And then I wait.
“Naomi? You okay?” Duncan knocks. “It’s been a while.”
Worry wart. It’s literally been five minutes. The man can’t do a minute without being near my side and as laughable as it is, I love it.
“I’m fine. I’m just washing my face. I feel gross.”
A lie which is semi-believable because I wash my face twice a day.
“Okay, I’ll be on the balcony.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I say in a state between shock and happiness. I pick up the test, and right there in the little box, it says pregnant. I mean, I hoped, but I didn’t think it would happen. I had only missed my period two days ago, and sometimes it’s a few days late. I took this because something told me I had to know if I was.
And I am.
I grab the stick and hide it behind my back. I can’t stop the tears of happiness trailing down my face. Not only am I sharing this beautiful life with my best friend and soulmate but to have children with him? Wow, we are certainly blessed.
He’s going to be an amazing father, and I can’t wait to go on this journey with him as well. I wipe my face down and walk back out on the balcony.
“Hey, you.” He pulls me into his lap and kisses me senseless. “You taste salty.”