Page 141 of What Should Have Been Ours

I wish I could say it back. I want to tell her that she’s my whole world. That she made every moment of this life worth living. That if I had to do it all again, even knowing how it would end, I’d still choose her.

But my voice is fading.

My body is slipping.

So I do the only thing I have the strength left to do—I brush my thumb over her hand, slow and soft, our own silent language.

“I…lo—love…you,” I barely push out.

She lets out a broken sob, squeezing her eyes shut.

Then I let it happen, knowing I’ve given it my all.

I feel it—this quiet unraveling, like the strings that have been holding me together are finally loosening, giving way to something else, something lighter.

Gabrielle’s fingers dig into my skin, and she chokes out, “Stay with me, please, Cam, just a little longer.”

I want to. God, I want to. But I don’t think I can. My chest feels tight, my lungs too heavy, and I can barely keep my eyes open.

Everything is getting quieter, softer, like the whole world is pulling away.

And then suddenly, it’s just her.

Her voice.

Her touch.

Her love.

I focus on that. On her. On the way she smells like home, the way her lips press against my temple, the way she whispers, “It’s okay, you can rest now.”

I hope she knows how much I loved her.

I hope she knows that every breath I had left, I gave to her. That every heartbeat, every moment, every whispered I love you was real. That she was my light when everything else went dark. That if love could’ve saved me, I would’ve lived forever.

The world softens around me, the edges blurring, dissolving into a weightless feeling.

Her touch is the last thing I feel.

Her voice is the last thing I hear.

Her love is the last thing I carry with me.

I become the spaces between her breaths, the warmth in the sunlight, the echo of a love too big to end.

Goodbye Gabrielle.

Don’t worry, I’m waiting for you on this side.

65

Gabrielle

“Stay with me, please, Cam…just a little longer.”

My voice is barely a whisper, but it feels like I’m screaming inside, my heart shattering as I squeeze his hand—begging. But his fingers, once so strong, so sure, are slipping from mine as his grip loosens.

And in that instant, I know. I know he can’t hold on any longer.