Finally, on the morning of the fourth day...mere hours from when he’d hurt himself, Galloway opened his eyes and wrenched my tortured heart from my xylophone-stark ribcage.
“I’m dying, Stel.”
I convulsed with the need to cry. I was desperate to cry. To find some avenue from the over-cooked pressure inside me.
But I couldn’t.
I billowed and swelled until I was tight and achy with tears. But I couldn’t let go. If I did, who would be there to catch me? Who would be there to drag Galloway back to life?
Wild, tangled hair slid over my shoulders as I shook my head. “No. No, you’re not. You’ll be fine.” I stroked his forehead, wiped the sweat from his cheekbones, and avoided looking at his blistering red arm. “You’re fine, see. You’re talking. That’s an improvement. You’re talking to me, G. You’re on the mend. See...you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. I can’t tell you how much you’ll be fine.”
Stop saying fine.
I couldn’t.
“Please, G. Believe it. You’ll be fine. So, so fine.”
His smile crumpled my soul into dust. “Estelle, baby...stop.”
Baby.
He’d never called me baby. Never given me a nickname other than Stel or Stelly. Now, he called me baby. Right before he decided to leave me?
He’s not leaving me.
I won’t let him.
Anger replaced my tears. “Don’t baby me, G. You’re going to get better. You hear me. You’re not allowed to leave me.”
Pippa appeared from the house, holding Coconut with tears streaking down their faces.
They’d heard us.
They knew yet another soul would be gone soon. And then, it would just be us.
Three females.
Alone.
All masculine energy and bravery...gone.
No!
I glowered at my adoptive daughter, wanting her gone with her pessimism and useless grief. “Go! Leave. Don’t stare at him as if he’s already dead!”
Pippa gasped.
For a moment, rebellion illustrated her face with war colours, but then she turned on her heel and dashed away, carrying Coconut with her.
Good.
Good riddance.
I didn’t need them if they didn’t believe in miracles.
Galloway will be okay.
You’ll see.
Everyone will see.
He’s not allowed to leave me.
The tears did flow then. Undammed and unwanted, they waterfalled down my cheeks despite my rage at them falling.
Galloway moaned, reaching for me.
I folded into him, placing my head on his chest, listening to his infected racing heart...doing its best to keep him alive just a little longer.
“Estelle, I need to tell you something. I need you to grant me absolution. Will you do that?”
I could only nod and hold him tighter, whimpering and sobbing, drenching his overheated body with my over-hot tears.
He took a while to form a sentence, to mull over the words he wanted because this was it. The final conversation we would ever have.
I knew that.
He knew that.
The damn forsaken world knew that.
Death’s cold laughter existed on the breeze as my one and true love, the husband of my heart and father to my daughter, gathered his strength for salvation.
“I—I killed a man.” He breathed rather than spoke; his confession barely audible. But it slithered into my chest, churning like butter, like sour milk, like fermented cream until I wanted to vomit such a sentence and pretend he was the good, hardworking man I’d given my heart to.
But I couldn’t refuse him.
I couldn’t ask questions or demand answers.
I could only listen and forgive so he could go to his grave one soul lighter, and hopefully, find Heaven after fearing Hell.
“I wish I could say it was an accident. I wish I could fabricate a tale of a ruined boy who made a terrible mistake. But I can’t.” He sucked in a rattling breath. “I can’t lie to you like I lied to myself for so many years. I willingly bought an unlicensed gun. I caught the train to his house. I knocked on his door. And I hit him over and over again for what he’d done to my mother, to my father, to me. And then...once he’d paid for his crimes, I shot him.”
No, no, no.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. Murder is never okay. And I don’t pretend to think I did the world a favour. But he was a killer, too, Stel. You have to believe me. His toll was much higher than mine. I couldn’t save the patients he’d destroyed, but I could save the families left behind. He can’t hurt another, and I’m willing to take that price with me.”
Don’t, don’t, don’t.
“I forgive you. I believe you’ve paid enough for your sins, Galloway.”
He kissed me with blazing lips. “Only you could trust me so blindly, Stel. Only you could overlook a prison sentence and corrupted past and see what’s good inside me.”
Please, please, please.
“You are only good, G. So, so, so good.”
“I love you, Estelle.”
“G...”
“Tell me you love me, too.”
I want to.
I do.
But something prevented me.
As if those three little words would be the defibrillator to stop his heart. As if he only clung to life to hear them. Was it wrong of me to want him to remain in pain so I never had to say goodbye?
Yes, it’s wrong.
Don’t let him go.
You love him.
Tell him.
He deserved to hear such a thing before leaving.