Sin & Suffer (Pure Corruption MC #2)(115)

If he’s left me …

“Arthur … don’t do this.” The sobs I’d tried to swallow erupted. Tears flooded my cheeks. “You know me … remember?” I fumbled for his hand again. “I’m yours. Buttercup …”

He sucked in a breath. The blankness shifted like fog on a lake. “B-Buttercup …”

I shivered so hard my teeth rattled. “It’s me. Please, don’t forget me. I can’t manage if you forget me!”

Suddenly, his lips twisted in horror. “Fuuuuck, Cleo …” The drugs cleared, his pain receded, and he truly saw me. His soul shone, glittering with agony. “Never. Oh, Christ, h-how could I e-ever forget you.” His large body shifted beneath the sheets. His broken arm tried to wrap around my shoulders. He grunted in pain, breathing hard. “I kn-know who you are. I do.” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry—I’m a little out of it w-with whatever they gave me. How could you ever t-think—”

“You didn’t recognize me.” I tried to hide my face. The lack of sleep and overwhelming worry gave me no room to hide. I became unhinged on a nightmare that wasn’t true.

What if this was all in my head? What if the words I heard weren’t real? Could he wake from brain surgery and start talking as if everything was fine? Is that what the doctor meant?

“Hey …” He managed to cup my cheek with his uncased hand. His rough thumb traced my damp tears. “You’re t-tearing me apart, Cleo. Don’t c-cry. I’m here. I’m still me.”

Part of me didn’t believe him. Part of me still feared the worst—that the doctors had chopped out the parts of his brain coded to me, the synapses that made him mine. I couldn’t shake the debilitating terror that there was nothing I could do to stop him from leaving me—to keep him alive and in my arms.

Nothing!

Only fate. And fate had proven to be a merciless bitch.

I cried harder.

“Hey … Buttercup. D-don’t.” His hand wrapped around my nape, pulling me into him. “Christ, you’ll make me c-cry in a moment, baby.” His lips pressed against my forehead. “I love you. I will always l-love you. You’re my world, Cleo.”

His words were a balm to whatever terror held me hostage, slowly smoothing the more he shed his grogginess. My legs gave out, tumbling me into his chest.

He flinched, sucking in a ragged breath, but he didn’t let me go. His arm banded tighter, crushing me with love. “I’m here. I’m still yours.” His voice haunted with pain. “I’ll always be yours. I p-promise.”

I was a mess. He was the one in the hospital. He was the one on morphine and dealing with a brain injury. Yet he consoled me. He was once again the strongest, giving me sanctuary, holding me while I came apart.

“I’m sorry,” I choked. “I c-can’t. I just n-need—”

I couldn’t do it any longer.

For so long, I’d pretended to cope. I’d painted on a mask and acted out the highs and lows of life. But I’d been dead inside. I’d missed more than just my memories. I’d missed this.

This wealth of emotion.

This undying affection.

This unswerving connection.

I’d been so alone. So afraid. And now … I was home.

A sob ripped itself from my soul, opening the floodgates of my tears. For eight long years, I’d never let myself come undone. I’d never undone the tight corset around my feelings to purge and heal. For eight years, I’d fought away sadness as if it was a plague trying to kill me. I couldn’t fall apart because I had no one to glue me back together again.

But here … in a hospital, in my soul mate’s arms, in a country I’d left behind, I jumped off the precipice I’d always clung to and fell.

I fell into sadness.

I fell into happiness.

I fell into love all over again.

And he caught me.

Arthur never stopped murmuring, his croaky voice the best chorus for my shattering psyche.

Tears streaming, I snuggled into him, inhaling the scent of him smothered with medicine. “You’re a-alive.” More tears. More sobs. “Thank G-God, you’re alive.”

He flinched as I kissed his brow, his eyes, his lips.

I wanted to kiss every inch, imbed myself into his every pore so he could never carve me out.

“Life and death don’t mean shit to us, Buttercup. My love for you makes us immortal.” His arm tightened, wrapping fiercely. “I get it. I get your pain.” His kissed my eyelids. “Just let go, baby. Let me catch you.”

More tears poured. I never knew I had so much liquid pain inside me. It all evicted, torrential waterfalls, unable to stop.

Time ticked past but I wasn’t aware.

The door opened and closed but I didn’t notice.

All I cared about was Arthur, his warmth, and his ever-steady heartbeat.

For a while, all I could do was hang in his embrace and sob.

I cried for everything.

For the past.

The present.

For good and evil.

And when I finally cried my last tear, I found completion. Every splintered piece realigned and for the first time since fire licked my skin and cast me from my world, I felt whole.

No more missing pieces. No more holey memories.