Deeper Healing

68| Goodbye

Nikolai Coleman

They say that the sudden death of a beloved is an amputation—a permanent sever of a part once essentially functional.

In an instant, the lights go out and you realise, the hardest goodbyes are the ones you never get to say.

Burning, glaring pain gnawed ruthlessly at my pounding heart, the hurt reaching its peak. It blew up in my head with a terrifying blankness. It made my head spin. It was nauseating.

The pain felt like a hot, sharp knife, covered in salt, slicing through my skin and into my muscles and bones, my torn heart beating for us both.

I loved her desperately—more than I loved myself. She'd planted roots so deep in my heart I couldn't fathom existing in any meaningful form without her.

Losing her meant uprooting those roots and taking my life out with them. There was no me without her and that complex idea had sunk deep into my brain the second I took her in and promised myself and I that I'd keep her safe and happy.

Every promise I'd made to her made no sense if she lifelessly lay on the stretcher like this.

My hands were covered in blood—hers or mine, I wasn't sure—but that didn't keep me from holding her hand tightly as though my desperation would wake her.

She'd shattered her knuckles smashing the window wall which caught my attention and alerted me of the situation.

I instantly knew something was wrong and my instincts were proven correct when I reached the top floor. Gas leaked from the securely shut door which I had to force open manually, resulting in bruises, cuts and tears all over my hands.

I should have never let her go by herself. I should have never left her side when I knew of the threat she faced.

Now, I was on the brink of losing the woman I loved—my everything—and I couldn't keep my shit together.

She wasn't waking up despite the frantic efforts of the medical staff transferring her to a special unit. I'd found her unconscious, as well as Isla and since then, she hadn't shown any sign of life.

Would I ever get to see those eyes open again? Would I ever hear her voice again or listen to her hearty laughs over silly jokes? Would I—

Shit.

Thinking about it hurt so badly. I couldn't arrange my life into a time before and after losing her. It was simply impossible.

There was no after without her.

Please. Please don't leave me.

The longer I held onto her bloody hand, the cooler it felt and the heavier my heart sank.

No. Please don't do this to me.

Tears fell from the corners of her eyes and I held onto her hand tighter, trembling with unshed, hot tears of denial prickling the back of my eyes.

Her chest began moving as her lips parted, a faint gasp slipping past them. She opened her eyes, her breathing so laboured I knew she wouldn't last long before falling back into unconsciousness.

I looked into her eyes and my heart shattered into a million pieces. The light in her eyes was fading so quickly it stabbed a sharp knife into my chest.

"Leila—" My voice cracked, my lips quivering. "Leilani."

She weakly held onto my hand and my emotions went into a frenzy, filling my eyes with tears.

"I—I'll make it—"

She was struggling so badly, her voice hoarse and filled with pain.

I could hear people talk to me, hands on my arms pulling me away from her, but I couldn't let go.