Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(76)

“Was I some sort of project? A way to get rid of your guilt?” she mumbled.

“Jesus, Lailah,” I cursed as my head fell to the mattress. “No…maybe…I don’t know.” I lifted my head. “At first, yes. Maybe I felt responsible and acted out of guilt, trying to make amends for what I’d done…but not anymore,” I said. “Not anymore.”

Her long hair moved back and forth as her head shook against her palms. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Crawling up beside her, I took her hands in mine, holding them against my beating chest. “Know that I love you. Know that this is real—what I feel for you. Know that you must fight for it. Fight for us, Lailah. Don’t give up.”

“It’s not giving up to want to spend the rest of my life with you,” she said softly. “Regardless of how we met or what brought us to this moment, I want to spend every minute I’ve been given with you, Jude. That’s not giving up. That’s living.”

“It is giving up when that life is being cut short! Don’t you get it, Lailah? Don’t you see? You’re my f**king life. I might have survived Megan’s death, but if you leave me, it will obliterate me. Life—it doesn’t go on without you.”

Tears poured down her cheeks as she met me halfway. Our kiss became frenzied and lacked any sort of finesse. It was raw and powerful. As our clothes hit the floor and our bodies became one, I looked into her eyes, into her soul, and I begged her to stay with me, begged her not to leave me in ruins.

I didn’t know why I awoke, but a few hours before dawn, I came to with an overwhelming feeling of dread. Looking around the room, I felt around the bed until I found Lailah’s sleeping form. She was lying still, a little too still. Her breaths were shallow and short.

“Lailah,” I said, shaking her.

Her eyes slowly opened, and that was when I began to panic.

“I don’t feel good,” she said, clutching her chest.

“Where’s your oxygen tank?” I asked, jumping out of bed to flip on the overhead light.

Her tank was in the corner, and I quickly set it up, positioning the mask over her head.

“My heartbeat is erratic,” she said through the plastic covering her mouth.

“I’m calling Marcus,” I announced, grabbing my phone from the nightstand.

Five seconds later, she passed out.

“Shit! Lailah!” I yelled, punching 911 into my cell.

I stayed calm and collected, my training kicking in, as I cradled her in my arms. She was thankfully breathing, but it was slight and not nearly enough.

“Come on, angel, stay with me,” I pleaded before kissing her pale lips.

I waited for the paramedics to come. Within minutes, the ambulance arrived, and we were being transported to the hospital. I held her hand the entire way as they started her IV and took vitals.

Marcus met us at the entrance of the ER, having rushed in after my panicked call. They let me follow her back into a room, but I was quickly left alone when they wheeled her away for tests.

Hurried footsteps came toward the door, and I looked up to see Molly standing there, breathless.

“Where is she?”

“They just took her back for some tests.”

She nodded, stepping forward to take the empty seat next to me. I was honestly surprised that I wasn’t being bitched out. I fully expected to be blamed for this entire event. Looking back on the evening, I worried I might have pushed her too much—dinner and shopping, the lack of sleep, all combined with the way we’d torn into each other just hours earlier.

“What happened?” Molly asked quietly.

“I woke up, and I just felt petrified. I looked over and heard her shallow breathing. I woke her up, and as I was calling Marcus, she passed out.”

She shook her head and dropped it into her hands. “It’s my fault, telling her about the transplant. It was too much stress. I never should have told her.”

“No, she deserved to know.”

“It’s just so hard not to protect her from everything,” she said softly.

“I know,” I answered.

We sat there in silence, waiting for her to return. The cheap plastic clock slowly ticked by the seconds on the wall, reminding us exactly where we were and why we were here.

“I wanted to hate you,” Molly said suddenly.

I turned to her and watched her brows furrow together.

“When you first showed up, so young and slick-looking, I thought you would break her heart. No one could possibly understand the cost of loving a girl like Lailah. Yet, you stayed, and I realized something yesterday. You just want the same exact thing I do.”

“And what is that?” I asked.

“To keep her here, no matter the cost.”

I placed my hand on hers. “We’re not going to lose her. No matter what, I promise you that.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but the door swished open, and a woman appeared, wheeling Lailah behind her.

“Hey,” she said weakly.

That one word was like a precious blessing from heaven.

She was awake.

“Hey back,” I answered, rising from my chair to take her hand. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Been better, but I’ve been a ton worse, too. Marcus said I probably just overdid it—maybe a bit too much salt for dinner and lack of sleep—but he’s running some tests just in case.”