• 𝐂hapter 50

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Alarm trickled into my system the moment Gwendolyn got off the phone and I had no recollection of running down the stairs or heading out of the house or even getting into a train but somehow I was here, in the hospital, with my heart beating ten t...

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Alarm trickled into my system the moment Gwendolyn got off the phone and I had no recollection of running down the stairs or heading out of the house or even getting into a train but somehow I was here, in the hospital, with my heart beating ten times faster as I took in heavy breaths.

The whole hospital was crowded; reporters and nurses hustling around the throng.

Low murmurings and comments drifted to my ears.

Poor man. At least he died with a smile on his face.

I heard he asked for a glass of whiskey before he finally gave up.

I also heard his grandson spent the night in the morgue. He must really love him.

Killian...

I rushed past the crowd and forced my way into the elevator, not caring if I looked like roadkill or a trainwreck.

Room 16 was as jammed as I'd expected. I pushed my way through a few more reporters and felt my world slip away when I looked into the open room and found the bed empty.

Mr. Edward wasn't there, he was really gone.

"Hope?" I turned when I heard my name, not expecting to see Eve. She wiped her cheeks and nose with the sleeve of her jacket and then rubbed her eyes, causing a streak of black eyeliner to run down her cheeks.

"Oh, honey." I pulled her into a hug. I hated to see anyone going through losing someone important to them. I cared about Mr. Edward, and I hadn't gotten to say goodbye to him and now the regret that I hadn't accepted his last wish taunted me. So much so that my heart hurt.

"He's gone, Hope." She buried her face in my chest and sobbed until I felt her tears soak my shirt.

More guilt added to the already swirling cauldron of emotions inside me. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I didn't want to cry. I wanted to be strong but my eyes leaked a few drops. "It's going to be alright."

Was it? I didn't know. I couldn't tell.

When she finally had her pound of flesh, she let me go and wiped her eyes. "You should go to Killian," she sniffed. "He's been in the morgue all night."

I nodded, turning away quickly so she wouldn't see the guilt swirling inside my eyes.

After giving my condolences to Mary, I walked away from the crowd and took the elevator leading to the morgue. My heart nearly burst out of my chest when it stopped and the doors slid open. I wasn't sure if I could face Killian. My instinct wanted me to bail. I didn't even know if he wanted to see me right now. I breathed deep, fighting down the panic that threatened to overwhelm me. It didn't matter if he wanted me, it didn't matter if diner got blown off and I was probably never going to get another chance, I was going to try to be there for him.

Two guards were standing by the metal door when I arrived.

"Ma'am you can't go in."

"I'm his wife."

They both looked at each other as if exchanging words and it lasted for about a minute before they finally nodded for me to go in.

Gathering my thoughts together, I walked forward but the moment the door pushed open and I stepped in, there was a hitch in my stride as I spotted Killian seated on the bed beside Edward's passive form, his right hand currently bruised and bleeding.

"Killian." My heart started to thunder against my chest. "Are you alright?" I asked steadily, waiting for him to speak, to say something, anything.

When the silence had gone on for too long, I summoned up the courage and took another step forward but his words stopped me.

"You were here." His voice was void, torn; like he'd been screaming at the top of his lungs.

"The doctor said you were here before he died." He repeated and I felt my stomach twist. "You knew how much I cared about his health and yet you..." He inhaled sharply, his shoulders heaving and bruised fist squeezing tight.

"Killian, I can explain." He wasn't looking at me but I could feel the anger and rage oozing off him. "It's not what you think."

And then he turned, his eyes meeting mine and holding up my gaze. The lack of emotion in them scared me. I had expected to see anger, hate but there was nothing there, nothing in his face, no spark crackling—almost like he'd turned it all off.

"Was that why you told me you loved me?" His shoulders shook and his fists tightened as he chuckled bitterly. "Did he put you up to it? Did you take pity on me because he told you I was also broken and needed fixing?"

"No, Killian." I moved forward, shaking my head fervently, my heart in my throat—accelerating. "He didn't."

"Don't." He stopped me. "Don't you dare come close to me."

"It's not what you think, he called me here because he—"

"It doesn't matter." He cut me, his pale lips barely moving. "He's dead isn't he?"

"Killian please." I hadn't realized I was moving until he barked at me.

"I said don't fucking come close to me!"

Tears of fright pickled my eyes. "Killian..."

"All that tears, all that shit of me making love to you. It all makes sense." He shook his head. "God I was such a fool."

I inhaled sharply and bit back my tears. "It's not what you think. I love—"

"Don't fucking say that word." He sneered.

"But I do," I said, my voice trembling. "And yes, I didn't want to, I never allowed myself to imagine a future with you. I spent the last two months refusing to think about my emotions but I can't help it. I was afraid but I'm not anymore. I love—"

"Don't," he cut me again, the dread in his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Don't try to manipulate me."

I shook my head, fighting down the bile that rose in my throat. "I'm not trying to manipulate you."

"Doesn't matter. Just go home."

"I can't just leave you like this. I came here to—"

"Boys!"

I felt myself go cold when he barked and my breath was shaky as I dragged air into my lungs. "You'd really kick me out?"

His feature contorted with a mask of rage. "I'll do more." He turned to them. "Take her home and make sure she stays there."

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. I felt cold, crushed, heavy—my limbs weighed down by pain and guilt. "Killian."

He flipped me the bird over his shoulder and his boys got the message as they gestured towards the door. "Ma'am, please."

I swallowed the hurt and turned, hoping he'd call me back but he didn't. My hand reached for the doorknob. I was breathing hard.

Silence.

I opened the door and stepped out, refusing the urge to look back. I didn't fight it. I let them lead me out of the hospital, too cold to argue as I stumbled into the car and huddled against the door, trying my best not to cry in front of them.

By the time we got to the house, I felt sick with burden. My feet gave out on me the moment I reached my room and I slid against my bed to the floor, finding I could hardly breathe as the sobs came like a rapid waterfall. 

How could he?

My emotions reeled between anger, hurt, shame and resentment. Above all, I was disappointed in myself; disappointed for getting my hopes up because whatever we thought we had died the moment he sent me out of the hospital.

I sat there numbly, gripped by grief so thick it was hard to breathe.

For a small fragrant of time, everything was fine. Now, everything was going to change.

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