"Asha," he whispers, reaching his hand out to me. "Come here, please." He’s sitting on a stool in the kitchen and he slides his arm around my waist and pulls me to him as the paramedics start to work on his burns. His left arm is stretched out on the counter. I tuck my face into his neck because I don’t want to see what I’ve done to him. I’m still crying.
I am so afraid.
Luke is gently kissing my face as he holds me tight against him. He’s whispering words of comfort and reassurance in my ear, stroking my back and kissing away my tears. I’ve done this to him and he’s in so much pain right now, but it’s Luke who’s comforting me. I want so badly to make him be okay, to make all of this be okay.
The paramedics make him go to the hospital and Luke makes me come with him. We go in the ambulance and Luke doesn’t let go of me. They take him straight into the emergency department and still, he doesn’t let go of my hand. I’m still crying I think, but I follow him anyway.
The doctors come in and treat him. They try to get me to leave, but Luke doesn’t let them. His left arm is burnt, although the doctor tells us it isn’t too bad. A large bandage is wrapped around his left arm, from his wrist to his elbow. They say he’s lucky. It shouldn’t be permanently scarred or damaged and it will completely heal. He is very lucky. He never lets go of my hand.
Eventually all the doctors and nurses leave. They draw the curtains around his bed and they leave us alone. As soon as they’ve gone, Luke pulls me onto the bed with him, wrapping his arms around me.
"Asha," he whispers to me. "It’s okay, I’m okay." He runs his hand through my hair. I can’t stop the tears. "Ash," he says, more force in his voice now. "What’s going on, talk to me, please."
I pull back and look at him and once again his thumb brushes away my tears, his hands cradling my face. "This is all my fault," I say.
"What? No Asha, no. This is not your fault, it was just an accident, a hazard of the job remember?" he says, reminding me of that time with the knife as he pulls me to him, holding me in a tight embrace. "It was just an accident Ash," he whispers. "I’ll be okay, I’m okay beautiful."
I push back from him. "Luke I’m so sorry I did this to you, I am so sorry." I pull myself from his arms and as I force myself to step backwards from the bed, my heart feels like it’s being ripped from my chest. "You are better off without me, you are safer without me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry," I cry as the tears just keep falling and I tear myself away from him.
I turn and run from the room, hearing Luke call out my name. I hear something crash and I hear Luke swear, but I keep running. I am destroyed. I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want him to die either. I need to protect him. I need to leave him.
I run.
I run forever.
I run until I’m back at my apartment. Then I run inside and collapse on the floor, unable to do anything else anymore. My breath escapes in hard painful bursts, broken by sobs and there’s an ache in my chest that feels deep and permanent. My apartment is freezing. I haven’t been here in so long, that the heat hasn’t been turned on for winter. I realise now that I’ve spent so long with Luke, in his house, in his arms, in his bed. That’s why it’s so cold in here, because I haven’t stayed here once since the very first night I spent with him. I haven’t wanted to come back here and I haven’t been able to leave him.
I feel the ache in my chest deepen, as my heart starts to break apart. I feel it as it shatters into a thousand tiny pieces in my chest. A thousand tiny pieces I know, I will never be able to put back together again.
Already I miss him.
But I should’ve known it couldn’t last. I should’ve known that everything would eventually catch up with me. That time was always going to run out and I would have to face it all over again. Losing Luke, my heart breaking, and being forced to go on without him.
I should’ve known it could never last.
∞
Part of the reason Sam’s death destroyed me so much, is I never had a chance to say goodbye to him. He was the person I was closest to, he was my whole life, the only person I had left, the only person who knew everything about me, and I never got the chance to say goodbye to him.
I never got to say I love you one last time, never got to kiss him goodbye knowing it would be the last kiss we ever shared. I never got to say sorry for all of the things I’d done to him, for all of the pain I’d caused. Never got to thank him for everything he’d given me.
Now though, I realise that saying goodbye, having the chance to say goodbye to the one you love, is worse. Because knowing they’re still out there and you’ve made the choice to walk away from them. Knowing that if you wanted to, you could actually turn around, go back and be with them. That makes goodbye so much worse.
Death by comparison, is so final, so definitive. The End. There’s never any going back.
When I lost Sam it was in an instant. One day I had him and the next day, I didn’t. I didn’t know it was going to happen then and despite everything I knew, I was never really prepared for it.