Can’t speak.
Won’t ever have the chance to tell her how fucking sorry I am that I always ruin everything.
I summon all my strength and focus on lifting my hand.
On pushing up, getting closer, so I can really take her in, one last time.
Her eyes go wide.
All the pain—all the panic that I always elicit—it’s written clear on her face.
No.
I don’t want to cause her pain. Not anymore. Not ever again.
My brain rages against my uncooperative body. Every cell hurts, and yet I keep pushing, trying in earnest to sit up, to get closer.
I open my mouth again. To try to tell her I’m sorry. To try to tell her I love her.
Instead of words, a garbled, wet cough breaks free.
A mix of blood and spittle bursts out of me, speckling Sawyer’s face.
Fuckin’ A.
She’s covered in blood.
I blink, naïvely hoping that will change the sight in front of me.
I want to reach out, I want to wipe it away.
I want to tell her I’m sorry, I want to tell her I love her.
Instead, I fall back and give in to the darkness.
I tried, mon ange.
I tried and I failed, and I could never love you the way you deserve.
I ruin everything.
I’m sorry I won’t be around to fix this.
I don’t deserve forgiveness. Even so, I’m sorry for everything. I never deserved you. I’ve never been worthy of your love.
My vision darkens, but I fight like hell to keep my eyes open and keep her in my line of sight. But I’m weak. My strength gone.
There’s darkness.
There’s warmth.
There’s heartbreak.
There’s her.
The last thing I hear before I fully slip under is her high-pitched, heartbreaking scream.
Chapter two
