Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(71)

Her expression turned tender, and she nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” she answered.

She silently followed behind me as we made our way through the hospital and down to the lonely long hallway I’d claimed as my own. When we reached the wide wooden beach, I stopped and turned to face the closed door of my past.

“This was where she left me,” I said, “where she took her last breath.”

The doctors, her parents—they were all wrong.

They didn’t understand, they didn’t realize how strong she was, how strong we were.

She would fight.

She would fight for us.

Because if she wasn’t here, I wouldn’t know how to go on. I couldn’t face this life without her.

“Son, it’s time to say good-bye,” Megan’s father said through choked tears as his hand rested on my shoulder.

I looked up to see red-rimmed eyes staring down at me. His eyes reminded me so much of his daughter.

“No,” I whispered, my head shaking back and forth, as tears poured down my face.

She wasn’t dying.

She couldn’t.

We had to get married.

I looked down to her empty ring finger where I’d placed her engagement ring not two weeks earlier. The paramedics had cut it from her hand in preparation for surgery, and it had never been returned.

This couldn’t be happening. Any second now, I’d wake up, and Megan would be lying in my arms. She’d be happy and whole, and all of this would be nothing more than a terrible nightmare.

But deep down, I knew there was no waking up from this.

“We’re going to give you a few minutes alone with her,” Megan’s mother said before a door clicked.

I looked around the sparse room. It beeped and hummed as Megan slept before me. Her head was wrapped in white bandages, and bruises and scrapes covered her perfect skin.

Gently taking her hand, I traced the lines of her palm and watched her features for some sort of response. But like the hundreds of times before, there was nothing.

“Please come back to me,” I begged. “I can’t do this. I don’t know how to say good-bye to you.”

My head fell forward, and I kissed our joined hands.

Loud beeping and alarms jolted me upright, and I watched as nurses poured into the room, trying to push me out of the way.

Megan’s parents rushed in, and I watched as her mother collapsed to the floor, crying out in agony.

With my hand still clutched in hers, everything happened in a blur, and soon, the nurses and doctors slowed before turning toward us with blank expressions.

“I’m sorry. She’s gone,” the doctor announced.

“I never got to say good-bye,” I said, turning toward Lailah as she took my hand. “I think I’ve been refusing to do so ever since. I can’t tell you the number of hours I’ve spent in this hallway, staring at that door while sitting on this bench. I wasted years here.” A strangled laugh escaped my lips. “God, she would kick my ass if she knew how I ended up.”

“You’re not that person anymore,” Lailah reminded me. “She would be proud of the man you are today, and the journey you took to get here.”

Reaching up, I caressed the soft skin of her cheek. “It brought me to you. But now, it’s time I say good-bye,” I said, turning toward the bench. “I lost contact with Megan’s parents after I refused to attend the funeral. I wasn’t in a good place back then, and the only way I knew how to cope was by pushing everyone I knew away. They didn’t deserve that. They were always so good to me. They had this bench put in place when they found out I was still here. I guess they thought it might help me mourn in some way. I’m not even sure I understood the meaning of the word until recently.”

She took a seat, and I watched her fingers trace the golden edge of the plaque that had been placed the day before.

“Life: It goes on. It’s a Robert Frost quote,” she said as her fingertips brushed across the elegant script.

I joined her on the bench and smiled. “Yeah, she loved that quote. She had it taped on the visor of her car as a little reminder to keep going when things got tough. She was a constant force of positive energy, and she never would have wanted me to let life pass me by while I sat in this hallway, waiting for her to come back.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” she said, skimming her hand over the shiny brass one last time. “Thank you for sharing her with me. But like you said, it’s time for you to say good-bye, and I think that is something that should only be shared between the two of you. Pour out your soul, Jude. I’ll be waiting outside.”

She kissed my cheek briefly, and I watched her disappear down the hallway.

I didn’t know how much time had passed as I sat there. I stared at that closed door—thinking, breathing, waiting for the words to come. People shuffled past as I tried to find the right way to say good-bye to the woman and the life I’d been holding on to for far too long.

“I would have given you everything, Megan. You would have been my world, my wife, and my reason for existing. There wouldn’t have been a single moment I would have regretted,” I whispered into my palms as I cradled my head.

“But life had a different plan for us, for me. And now, I have to say good-bye,” my voice cracked as I said the words. “I met a girl. She pulled me out of the darkness, and I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t stay here with you and love her at the same time. She deserves all of me, and I want to give her everything. So, please believe me when I say I love you. I love you enough to remember you for the woman you were and for the beautiful life we shared. I love you enough to let you go, so I can live the life you’d want me to have. Every minute I have on this earth is even more precious because of the time I spent with you.”