Waiting for me to let go.
But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I pressed my mouth to his hand, kissed blood and dirt, and whispered broken prayers against his skin while the monitor held its dead line.
A nurse’s voice broke through, careful, measured, like she’d rehearsed it a thousand times. “Dr. Hawke… he’s listed as a donor.”
The words slammed into me harder than any trauma I’d ever faced. My head snapped up, vision swimming. “No. No, you don’t say that. Not while he’s still warm. Not while I’m holding him.”
Her eyes flicked to mine with sympathy. “We have to prepare, sir. We’ll need to notify transplant?—”
“Prepare?” The word shredded out of me, half snarl, half sob. “You think I’m going to stand here while you carve him up? He’s not gone! He’s right here!”
“Adrian…” the resident doc tried, quiet but firm, like he was coaxing me toward a cliff edge.
“Don’t Adrian me,” I snapped, tears blinding me as I turned back to Eli. My lips brushed his knuckles, trembling. “He’s my husband. Myhusband. And he’s not done. You hear me, Eli? You don’t quit on me.” The words came out in broken gasps, eachone tearing my chest open wider. “We haven’t had our last fight yet, our last morning coffee, our last kiss—I won’t let it end here. I won’t.”
The team moved slowly, as if gravity had thickened. Hands hovered over instruments. A clipboard shifted. The RN’s compressions faltered under the weight of the silence, each push pounding like a hammer in my skull.
And still I begged, incoherent, rocking against the bed with Eli’s limp hand pressed to my mouth, my cheek. “Please, baby. Please, don’t let them take you from me. Not yet. I can’t—I can’t?—”
The monitor screamed its steady death knell, filling the pause where no one knew what to say.
Oblivious to the cold, hard tiles biting into my knees, I clung to him. “I should’ve come home earlier, should’ve made more time, should’ve told you every damn day how much I love you. I thought we had years left—I thought we had time.” My words dissolved into breath-stealing sobs. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye…” The words fell from my lips in a whisper of regret.
I didn’t get to tell him how fucking sorry I was.
The last time we spoke—was it even kind? Or did I rush out the door, leaving him with silence and the echo of my absence? If that was the last thing he remembered of me, I’d never forgive myself.
I had saved strangers a thousand times, but when it mattered most, when it washim, I was useless. A fraud in scrubs, a husband masquerading as a doctor.
I was incoherent, shaking, raw, falling apart in the onlyplace I’d ever truly felt powerless, beside the person I loved more than life itself.
The machine continued to scream at me that I was out of time.
Hands slowed. Eyes averted. The room had already surrendered him. All but me.
I pressed my face to Eli’s palm, his ring biting into my cheek, anchoring me to the life they were trying to strip away. “You’re mine,” I whispered, fierce and broken. “And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”
The world became still and hushed, my body folding in on itself, everything collapsing until there was only his hand in mine, then nothing at all.
Chapter 2
The Last Day
ELI
The last morning of my life began the same as too many others—waking up alone in a cold, empty bed. Adrian was already halfway out the door, coffee in one hand, phone in the other.
“Morning,” I said softly, like I was testing whether it still meant anything.
“Mm,” he answered without looking up, thumb scrolling.
I tried again. “You’ve got a conference today?”
“Just rounds.” He checked his watch instead of me. “I’m late.”
That was it. No kiss. No teasing about my cooking. Nous.
“Right,” I muttered, staring at the two plates I’d set out, eggs cooling on both. “Don’t let me keep you.”
