Chapter 125 #43: Say Your Goodbyes
A/N: Sorry for keeping you guys waiting my lovesss. School's been eating me alive. Anyway, here's an extra long chapter as an apology. Enjoy;)
P.S. Who knows how to drop out of final year architecture school without being murdered by your parents? Send help!
~
The crash team works fast, their voices overlapping with urgency while machines shriek and someone calls out numbers that mean nothing to me except that David is slipping away again. I stand pressed against the wall outside his bay with my arms wrapped tight around myself, watching through the glass as they shock him once more. His body arches off the bed, then falls back limp. The line on the monitor flattens for a horrible second before stuttering back into something resembling rhythm. They adjust drips, push more drugs, then press down on his chest again when the beats falter.
Minutes stretch on until the alarms finally go quiet. The doctor steps back, breathing hard, and nods to the team. “He’s back. Sinus rhythm, but tenuous. Pressors are holding him. Be sure to keep him sedated and ventilated. He’s still critical.”
I don’t move until the nurse comes out and touches my arm gently. “He’s stable for now, Mrs. Calder. But he’s very fragile. We’ll monitor him closely. You can go in, but keep it brief – he needs rest.”
I nod without speaking and walk back to his bedside.
He looks smaller than he did an hour ago, swallowed by tubes and wires. His skin is grey under the harsh lights. I sit in the chair and take his hand again. It’s warmer than before, but still too still. I don’t say anything at first. I just hold on, my thumb tracing slow circles over his knuckles while I try to find words that don’t feel pointless.
The truth is I’m terrified to speak. Every time I open my mouth lately, something worse happens. Every promise I’ve made to Lucy, to him, or even to myself feels like it’s hanging by a thread. So I sit in silence for a long while, listening to the ventilator hiss in and out, watching his chest rise and fall in mechanical obedience.
Eventually the doctor returns with the latest update. “We’ve stabilized him again, but he’s still in critical condition. His heart took another major hit. Combined with the ongoing infection, surgery, and the trauma from the gunshot... his chances of survival are very low right now. If he makes it through the next twelve to twenty-four hours without another arrest, we’ll reassess. But the way things are right now, I think you should start preparing yourself for the worst. Say what you need to say while you still can.”
I nod, barely registering the words. “Thank you.”
He leaves quietly.
I look at David’s bruised and pale face that still somehow looks beautiful even now, and realize I can’t do this. Not yet. I can’t sit here pouring my heart out when I’m not sure he can even hear me, while every word feels like it might be the last. I need air. I need to move. I need to do something that isn’t just sitting here, waiting for him to die.
I kiss his forehead softly. “I’ll be back soon,” I whisper. “I just... I need a minute.”
I leave his room and head straight to Lucy’s.
She’s awake when I get there, sitting up against pillows with a colouring book open on her lap. Sel is beside her reading quietly. Lucy looks up the second I walk in and her face lights up.
“Mommy!”
I cross the room and sit on the edge of her bed, pulling her into my arms before she can finish the word. She melts against me, wrapping her small arms around my neck, and I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in until the knot in my chest loosens just enough to let me speak.
“Hey, baby,” I murmur. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” she says against my shoulder. “But the nurse said the new stuff is working. My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore.”
I kiss the top of her head. “That’s good, baby. That’s really good.”
Sel watches us with quiet eyes. “Discharge papers are ready whenever you are. They want her resting, but she’s stable enough to leave.”
I nod. “Let’s get her out of here.”
I help Lucy change into the soft pyjamas Sel brought from home. She’s slow and weak, but she doesn’t complain. When she’s dressed I lift her into my arms – she’s heavier than I remember, or maybe I’m just tired – and we walk to the nurses’ station. I sign the discharge forms with Lucy’s head resting on my shoulder, her small hand playing with the collar of my shirt.
Marcus waits in the hallway with the car keys. “SUV’s out front. I’ll drive.”
We make our way down in the elevator. Lucy stays quiet, sucking her thumb just like she used to when she was smaller. I should stop her just like I used to, but instead, I rub slow circles on her back and try not to think about David lying upstairs, fighting for every breath.
The drive home is quiet at first. Lucy falls asleep against me in the back seat almost immediately. Sel sits up front with Marcus. I watch the city lights slide past the window and try to remember what normal feels like.
Sel breaks the silence after a few blocks. “You okay up there?”
I nod without looking away from the window. “Just tired.”
Marcus glances at me in the rear-view. “We can take shifts at the hospital if you want. You don’t have to do it alone.”
“I know.” I force a small smile. “Thank you.”
Sel turns in her seat to look at me. “We’re here. Whatever you need.”
I nod again.
They start talking then – quietly at first, then louder as they forget I’m listening. Sel teases Marcus about the way he drives like he’s still in combat, with his hands at ten and two. He fires back that she’d drive us into a ditch if she were the one behind the wheel. She laughs and swats his arm. He catches her hand and brings it to his lips, then plants a kiss on her knuckles without taking his eyes off the road.
“You’re lucky I love you,” she says.
“Lucky doesn’t quite cover it,” he replies in a low but warm voice.
They keep going like that with playful jabs, soft laughter, the easy intimacy of two people who know exactly how to push each other’s buttons and still end up closer. Sel leans over to kiss his cheek. He turns his head at the last second so their lips meet instead, which makes her laugh against his mouth.
I sit there, silently watching their reflection in the windshield. The way Marcus’s hand finds Sel’s knee without him even looking. The way she leans into him automatically.
Here they are, teasing and touching and smiling like the world hasn’t just tried to rip itself apart.
And I hate them for it.
The thought hits me hard and fast, ugly and uninvited. I hate them for being able to laugh right now. I hate them for having each other while I’m watching the man I love fight for his life and my daughter recover from a transplant that might kill him. I hate them for being whole when I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.
Then shame floods in right behind it.
They flew across the country for me. They risked their lives to help me get Lucy back. Sel carried my daughter out of that lodge while bullets flew past her head. Marcus has been coordinating teams and chasing leads without sleep. They’ve done nothing but stand beside me through every awful moment.
They deserve every single shred of happiness they can get. And now, I hate myself for even thinking otherwise.
I turn my face toward the window so they won’t see the tears burning behind my eyes.
We pull up to the apartment building. Marcus parks in the garage. Sel carries Lucy while I walk beside her on shaky legs. The elevator ride is quiet. When we reach our floor I unlock the door and step inside.
Home.
Well, it smells like home anyway – faint lavender from the diffuser, coffee from yesterday morning, Lucy’s strawberry shampoo lingering in the air – but it hasn’t been home in a long while. Maybe it never was.
I walk straight to her room and pull back the covers. Sel lays her down gently. Lucy stirs but doesn’t wake.
I sit on the edge of her bed and watch her sleep. Her chest rises and falls in soft rhythm. Her small hand curls near her cheek. She looks peaceful and safe.
I stare at her for a long time.
I think about this house we’ve lived in with Vincent. The way she called him Daddy every morning. The way she ran to him after school. The way he read her stories and tucked her in and kissed her goodnight.
I think about David in that hospital bed, fighting for every breath because he sacrificed himself to save her.
I think about the years I kept them apart, thinking I was protecting her.
I thought hiding David from her was the right thing, that Vincent could give her stability, that a clean break was kinder than dragging her into the mess David and I made.
I was wrong.
I brought her up in the house of the enemy. I let her call the man who planned to kill me Daddy. I hid her from the only man who has ever truly loved me without fault, the man who’s now dying because he tried to bring her home.
I think until my brain turns to mush and I finally realise the scariest but most honest truth of all... I might be the villain in this story after all.
As the thought settles in my chest like lead, I lean down and kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
I stand slowly and walk out of her room.
Sel and Marcus are in the living room. Sel looks up when I enter.
“You okay?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I need to shower and change. Then I’m going back.”
Marcus nods. “Sure thing. We’ll stay with her.”
I head to my bedroom. The shower is hot and I stand under the spray until my skin turns pink. I wash away the blood and sweat and fear from the last few days. I change into fresh jeans and a soft sweater. I pull my hair back into a low knot. I look in the mirror and barely recognize the woman staring back, with her hollow eyes and pale face.
I walk out to the living room. Sel stands as soon as I enter. “We’ve got her. Go be with him.”
I hug her tight. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Marcus nods from the couch. “We’re here. Whatever you need.”
I leave the apartment and take the elevator down to the garage. Rhys is waiting with the car.
“Hospital?” he asks.
“Hospital.”
The drive is quiet. I stare out the window and think about David’s hand in mine, about the way he squeezed when I asked him to consent. About the promise I made to be better.
When we arrive I go straight to his room. The monitors are still beeping steadily. The ventilator hisses in and out.
I sit beside him and take his hand. I don’t speak at first. I just sit with him.
Hours pass.
Eventually, the doctor comes in with the latest update. “He’s stable but still critical. No new arrests, but his organs are stressed. We’re doing everything we can, but... you should say your goodbyes. Just in case.”
I don't respond.
When he leaves I sit there beside him and still say nothing. Everyone has one advice or the other to give to you as life goes on, there are so many published books, articles and papers by more scholars that can ever be counted, but there isn’t even a single book that teaches you how to say goodbye to the man you love.
Minutes pass. Maybe longer. But I just sit still, watching David breathe through tubes that cover half his face.
I suddenly feel dizzy and my mouth feels dry. I realise then that I haven’t eaten or drank anything in almost two days.
I stand slowly, my body protesting the movement.
“I’m just going to get some water,” I murmur, more to myself than to him.
I walk to the door, and just as hand touches the doorframe, I pause and turn back.
“You promised you’d be back for dinner,” I say quietly, my voice steady only because there’s nothing left in me to break. “You better fucking keep that promise.”
With that, I step out into the hallway.
The television in the waiting area is on, its volume low. I barely register it until a familiar name flashes across the screen.
My head turns instinctively and the anchor’s voice cuts through the fog in my head.
“...breaking news from the Hudson River. Police have recovered a body near the 79th Street Boat Basin. The victim has been identified as Elaine Reid, prominent socialite and mother of Reid Global creator David Reid...”
A photo of Elaine fills the screen – smiling perfectly and composed.
The ticker scrolls: 《Prominent socialite found dead in Hudson River. Foul play suspected.》