Within These Walls (The Walls Duet #1)(78)

“You know we can’t stop her from going after you once she’s recovered.”

I shook my head, my stomach churning in disgust. “You won’t need to. After tomorrow, she won’t want to see me ever again.”





TELLING MY MOM had been harder than I thought.

Seeing her break down in front of me, knowing I’d caused it, had nearly torn me in half. I’d been her world for as long as she could remember.

Keeping me alive had become her life.

And I’d basically just thrown that in her face and said, No, thanks.

I knew they all thought I was giving up, and in a way, I guessed I was.

But it was my choice.

Mine.

I was done being coddled and given half-truths. I was a grown woman, and it was time I started acting like one. If I had only a limited time left on this earth, I would choose how to spend it.

Me.

Not anyone else.

In the short time I’d known Jude, he’d given me a taste of what life could be like if things had been different, if I had been born normal. It was bittersweet, knowing what kind of life we could have had, and my soul ached, knowing it was something we’d never have. But growing up abnormal, apart from society, I knew I had to be thankful for the time I had been given.

And I wanted to spend that remaining time with Jude, not fighting for something that was never meant to be.

A knock on the door pulled my attention upward, and I watched as Jude walked in, reminding me of all the times he’d done so in the past. I had been moved upstairs, back into the cardiology unit, and even though I was in a different room than I had been previously, it still brought back fond memories to see him enter.

The day had passed in a blur, and I’d slept most of it away. The moonlight now lit up the room, casting a warm glow on his tanned skin.

“Just couldn’t stay away,” he said, pulling a chair up to the bed. His mood was heavy even though his words were light and joking.

“Well, they do have pudding here,” I joked, attempting to pull a smile from his lips. “Marcus said all my tests came back fine, so I should be good to go in a day.”

“Good.”

His fingers laced with mine, and I watched his brows furrow together.

“Talk to me, Jude. I know you’re upset about what I decided, but I—”

He rose from his chair and crawled next to me on the bed.

“I don’t want to talk right now,” he whispered, lifting the hem of his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor.

My hands eagerly reached out to touch him, moving over his chiseled lines and defined muscles. “What if someone walks in on us?” I asked, my gaze slowly rising to meet his.

“I sent your mom home for the evening, and Marcus is on his break. As for anyone else, I just really don’t f*cking care.”

His daring words excited me, and I moved to quickly shed my clothes, but his hand steadied me.

“No, let me,” he said.

As if we had all the time in the world, he took care in removing each piece of clothing, watching in utter fascination as each tiny part of me was revealed.

“I could spend a lifetime staring at you,” he breathed against my skin.

His lips kissed every inch of me until I was moving uncontrollably against him. He pulled a condom from his wallet and shed the rest of his clothes. Pulling the blanket over us, he gently settled himself over me. Every touch felt deliberate—like he was memorizing each curve and valley with his palm, like he was already losing me.

“Hey,” I said, turning his chin upward. “I’m still here. Be here with me.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he answered with a torturous long kiss that I felt down to my toes. My fingers dived into his hair, and I pulled him closer, needing more.

“Slow,” he said against the crook of my neck. “I need slow tonight.”

It was so different from the frenzied, passionate lovemaking we’d done the night before. He’d been nearly frantic, overcome by emotions and anger. Tonight, I still felt the emotions in him, swirling under the surface, but they were different.

As he cradled my face, looking into my eyes with such love and devotion, I struggled to find the puzzle piece I seemed to be missing.

“I love you, Lailah Buchanan,” he chanted.

He thrust deep into me, causing spirals of bliss to ricochet through my body.

Never breaking his agonizingly slow pace, he stayed steady, burying himself deep, as his mouth captured mine. His hands caressed my milky shoulders and squeezed my round breasts before finally sliding down to grip my hips as he continued to move against me. I felt my body clamp down, and I moaned, our kiss muffling my cries of passion, as Jude jerked against me, finding his own relief seconds later.

We redressed, and I curled up next to him once again, loving the warmth his body gave off. I never felt cold when I was in his arms. I drifted off to sleep, his arms closed around me, and I felt safe.





I had a dream.

Jude and I were walking hand in hand through an airport. With smiles plastered across our faces, we proudly handed over our passports to be stamped.

We got the keys to our rental, and with no directions or instructions at all, we hopped in our tiny toy car, laughing as Jude’s head hit the roof. We were exhausted from our flight but so exhilarated and happy. We were here—finally.