I sat up.
I stared into his eyes.
I parted my lips.
And then Pippa’s scream tore everything apart.
Chapter Sixty
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G A L L O W A Y
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I HURT.
There was no other way to describe it.
I was dying.
There was no point denying it.
My fingers had become terrorists, my arm a prosecuting enemy, and my body a murderer.
I’d done this to another.
Now, my body did this to me.
I’m dying.
I didn’t know how I knew, but I did.
I was almost gone.
Trading blood and bone for phantom and wraith.
For days, I’d clung to strength, doing my best to fight against the ever-darkening shadow and heavy, heavy sickness. But now...now, I had nothing left, and somehow, I knew I had mere hours, maybe only minutes left.
Confessing to Estelle.
That had been my last spurt of energy.
I’d saved it.
I’d hoarded it.
Unwilling to waste my one chance at absolution.
I thought I’d be angrier. More terrified. More hurt that after so long of being unhappy, I had to leave so much sooner than I wanted.
And I was all of those things.
I hated leaving Estelle.
I hated letting her down.
I hated the thought of her staying on this island with no one to shoulder the burdens and hold her late at night.
There would be no voyage.
No returning to society.
Not for me, at least.
My time was up.
I hated that goodbye was such an ugly, ugly word, but I had no choice but to speak it.
Pippa’s scream came again, wrenching through our sad farewell.
Estelle’s leaking eyes flared with indecision, torn apart with love.
I tried to move, to seek Pippa and the reason for her anguish, but my body no longer obeyed my orders. It had a new master now. Death itself.
My racing heart (smoking with wear and tear from the infection), sprinted faster. “She’s in trouble. You have to go to her.”
Estelle gritted her teeth, her soul ruptured between Pippa’s scream and my imminent departure.
We wouldn’t be leaving together, after all.
But I would wait for her.
I would wait for eternity until I could kiss her again.
“Estelle...”
She sucked in a sob, anger mixing with her tears. “Don’t make me choose, Galloway. Do. Not. Make. Me. Choose.”
A seismic fissure cracked through my chest.
What an unfair situation to be in. Having to choose. Having to decide who deserved comfort when you yourself needed comfort most of all.
A heat wave resembling the surface of the sun roasted my already roasted body. “Go, baby. You have to.”
Baby.
I’d never been one to use nicknames. I hated all form of generic endearment that could be transferred to another. But in this instance, it worked. Because, this time, I’d transfused the simple word with all the magic of love.
When I called her baby.
I was really telling her I loved her.
So, so much.
She was the mother of my child. The keeper of my heart and guardian of my soul, and if that didn’t make her my baby, my wife...then I would die never knowing the meaning of what did.
Estelle threw herself onto my chest, her tears tickling my naked skin. I swore my flesh incinerated those salty droplets like a hot tin roof in a summer’s rain.
“I can’t. I can’t leave you.”
“You have to.”
“No!”
I wanted so much to hug her but every inch of me screamed with pain. The most I could do was lay my hand on her head. “Baby, you must. She needs you. She has Coco. What if they’re dying? Would you let them go over me?”
She stilled.
Don’t answer that.
I didn’t want the curse of making her verbally admit that somehow, through all my sins and failures, I’d done enough good to deserve her love over any other thing...including our own daughter.
It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t going to happen.
My voice tinged with anger. “Estelle, go to our children.”
Her shoulders wracked with sobs.
Her hands clutched me harder.
“Go.”
“No! I won’t leave you.”
Tangling my hands in her hair, I pulled her eyes to mine. “You don’t understand.” Tears filled my own gaze, wavering her beautiful face. “I’m leaving you. And you can’t abandon them when I’ve already abandoned you.”
“Don’t say that! Take it back. God, please...take it back.”
For a moment, I swore my heart stopped, as if testing to see how ready I was to die.
I wasn’t ready.
I would never be ready.
But Conner would be there. We’d find each other again. I’d see my mother. And who knew...maybe even my father if he’d died of heartbreak after almost four years of me missing.
Will she die of heartbreak?
Fear electrocuted my nervous system, giving me a few more minutes. “Estelle.” Her name became my rosary beads for my final prayer. “Promise me, you’ll look after them. No matter what happens. Promise me, you won’t give up.”
Her sobs quietened as she slowly, terribly, scooped up her grief and tucked it back into her soul. “You’re truly leaving me.”