The 18th Floor

Chapter Sixty Two

Lucien's POV

I spend the night with her again and tell her dad he's okay to go home. I know he's been here for her for the past 6 years and he still wants to be here now, but I can see the tiredness of it weighing down on him and after a small fight to say he'll stay, he finally gives in and heads home.

I don't know how he's done it these past few years, with these 5 days alone streaking my hair with grey. The thought of losing her again suddenly becoming all too real and I felt 18 again, back with my parents. In and out of hospitals, no rest, no peace.

I lay down in the chair and look over to her sleeping body, the way she slightly flinches every time she breathes in or laughs too hard, still in pain but refusing to admit to it. The more I look at her, the more I feel my heart twist and ache for the love I've grown to have for her.

She doesn't know that I would lay down my life for her if someone asked, I would strip my soul apart piece by piece if it meant that she would live a happy life. When I look to the future, I can't see anything that isn't centred around her anymore. My life is no longer mine, but hers too. What use is it to me if I can't spend the rest of my days creating memories with her. So, if that means I have to go through with this stress, then so be it. I'll happily spend months by her side, taking care of her, if it means that she's ok, that she's safe.

How do I even begin to tell her that when her heart stopped, so did mine. How me and her dad had to watch as the doctors shocked her body, watching the defibrillators come down and pull her body up into the air. I felt some part of my soul crack that day. The moment her breathing deepened and became irregular, the way her chest suddenly started moving in an abnormal manner. The ringing in my ears that started as her the machine started to flatline out of thin air. It took hours, possibly even days to stop myself from shaking. To stop myself thinking the worse. The way every time my eyes shut; my body jerked itself back away into survival mode to look out for her.

I couldn't tell her, nor could her dad. She doesn't need to know; it will only upset her further. But it scared the shit out of us, the thought of her being taken from her that quickly.

I listen to her monitor of steady rhythm of heart beats and pray thanks to whatever gods listen that she's okay.

Although I've always felt welcomed by her dad, these past few days together in the room I feel closer to him. I realised that Cyrene never explained my full family history and I thank her for keeping our pasts so close to our chests, so I tell him some more. We talk about growing up, our childhoods, he talks to me about Cyrene's mother and it makes me realise how little she mentions of her.

"She was my true love, Lucien. I still think she is", he admitted.

"Even after she left?"

"Even after, there's some part of me that still loves her. Not in the same way, but rather for what we had, what we shared together over those brief years."

"I think she's my true love too", I whisper.

"I know son. I think your hers too", he said to me gently, the use of the word son creating a flurry of goosebumps along my body and paired with the admission and approval of our relationship, I felt the ache in my heart that I've missed over the years of not having my parents.

In the darkness, I also think back to the interaction I had with Elias and cringe at my stupidity. As I was entering the hospital, I caught him leaving. Of course, my dick was thinking before my head, jealously going into overdrive.

"Hey", he had said, smiling at me I wanted to wipe it off his face. "I just came by to check on Cyrene, glad to see she's on the mend. How are you holding up?"

His question took me aback, for some reason I didn't expect him to ask about me, still in his freshly pressed suite; he clearly came here straight from work and I can't help but quickly look behind him in the car park for his bike.

"Good, as long as she's good, I'm good", I say.

"I don't know if Cyrene ever mentioned it, but my younger brother has cerebral palsy", he says and I suddenly feel like a dickhead. "He had limited oxygen go to his brain during my mother's pregnancy, impairing his speech and mobility. He can't do anything by himself, wheelchair bound, and like Cyrene, his immune system is compromised. So, I know, I know how draining and tiring it can be for both parties and how something as little as a cold can cause a large impact."

"I didn't know", is all I managed to say, imaging a young Elias growing up under the shadow of a younger brother who needed constant, undivided attention.

"It's ok. Just take care of yourself too, yeah? I'll see you back in the office soon", he says as he puts me on the shoulder in a sympathising way starting to walk away.

"I was a carer too, for both my parents. At 14, I'm sure it doesn't compare to 29 years, but I know what weight it puts on you", I say, my own admission taking me by surprise.

He nods, "it's not easy."

"No, it's not", I say.

We stand there for a few moments in silence, thinking about how even though we would walk to the ends of the world for the people we love and want to care for, the longer we walk the heavier the distance and weight grows.

"Thank you", I say and he nods once more before turning back around and making his way. I get up and out of the chair pulling myself back into the present moment, longing for her touch, her smell and squeeze myself into the bed with her. Maybe I should just get us some private healthcare.

She stirs as I lay down and I kiss her forehead.

"Lucien", she murmurs, folding one hand over my chest.

"I'm here darling, don't worry, I'm always here."