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I felt myself stiffen. “What?”

“I don’t think this other one is going to make it, ma’am,” he whispered.

I closed my eyes as something close to devastation, utter and complete depletion of feeling, washed over me.

We started Murphy on hospice care today. They were supposed to be here at eight in the morning. I glanced at the clock and saw it was close to seven thirty.

When the nurse had arrived early, I’d wanted to close the door in her face.

“I’ll come after eight…” I hesitated. “Is that okay?”

He knew why I was waiting until eight.

Yesterday, when I’d met him, he’d told me that he would watch them. Take care of them.

And I’d thanked him and told him that if he ever needed me, I would be more than happy to come after eight, because that was when I knew for sure that Murphy would have someone here to help him if he needed it.

Then again, between his mom and me, we were always there.

This morning, the hospice nurse hadn’t been the only one to show up. It was more than obvious that when Guilia arrived this morning, she wasn’t the only one that didn’t want to leave.

I invited her in and set her up in Vlad’s bedroom since it was the only one with the extra bed.

Vlad would be happy.

Now, we were both watching miserably while the nurse did her thing with the man that we loved with all of our hearts.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of them.”

I closed my eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

That’s when my voice broke, and he started to murmur to me softly, “I’ll take care of everything down here, babe. Don’t worry.”

Like a punch to the gut.

Repeatedly.

The blows just kept coming.

My sister had sent me a text telling me that Vlad’s father was in town, but I seriously couldn’t care less.

I wasn’t leaving the house any time soon, so why would I care if he was here?

“If you need anything, let me know,” he murmured.

As we said our goodbyes, I was once again left staring at the nurse in front of us.

I hated her.

Literally, I hated her.

I hated what she represented.

I hated that she had her hands on my man.

I hated that Murphy was laughing softly.

I just…hated her.

Murphy, upon sensing me done with my phone conversation, held out his hand for me.

I swallowed hard past a lump in my throat and walked toward him.

Guilia snickered as I passed, and I shot her a ‘watch it’ glare.

She looked away with a smirk on her face, her eyes going to Vlad who was busy playing with the nurse’s stethoscope.

She really was nice.

I wouldn’t have given my stethoscope to him.

Apparently, though, it was one she had for backup. And one her own child played with from time to time.

At least, that was what she said, anyway.

When I got there, Murphy’s hand came out to me. The hand that now had the IV in it.

“Everything okay?” he asked quietly.

I smoothed my hand into his and squeezed lightly.

He squeezed back, and I felt like fucking crying.

Because I knew he’d given it all he had.

“Yeah,” I lied through my teeth. “Everything is fine. That was Jeremiah. Just checking in.”

Murphy may be dying, his body failing him one organ by one organ, but his brain was still sharp as a tack.

He didn’t call me on my lie, though.

Not until the nurse left after giving him some meds to help.

“What happened?” he asked again the moment the door closed behind her.

I sighed and pressed my forehead into his thigh.

“I don’t want to tell you,” I admitted.

I felt his fingers sift through my hair, and I groaned and pressed a little deeper between his legs.

He was in the recliner propped up with some pillows.

I was on the ground after just slipping his feet into some warm socks.

Except, I hadn’t realized how comfortable I was.

How tired.

How…

I fell asleep right there and wasn’t woken up for an hour.

Not until the cramping in my leg forced me to move, and I realized what I’d done.

Lifting my head slowly, I looked up at Murphy who was staring down at me.

He had tears coursing down his face.

I was on my feet in an instant, my eyes wild, as I took everything in.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep.”

He held his hand out to me, and I reluctantly crawled in his lap, being sure to put the majority of my weight toward the side so I wouldn’t hinder his breathing any more than it already was.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated again.

He pressed his forehead against mine before saying, “I don’t want to leave you.”

A sound, one similar to a wounded bear, left me.

“Alessio…” I whispered. “Don’t.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he repeated. “I want to grow old with you. I want to have five babies with you. I want to have them all running around us while Vlad chases them in our fully restored house. I want to go on vacation with you to Disney World and experience all the chaos it brings with it. I want to go to CrossFit forever and watch your ass in your leggings as you accomplish your goals. I want to bring you food at work and spend your lunch hour with you. I want to buy you an American-made car.”

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