Page 38 of Love Under Siege

I turn and see Nana and Jacob’s mom lying there, lifeless, something in me snaps. I rush over, dropping to my knees as I grab both of their hands, gripping them tightly as if holding on could keep them here. The warmth is already leaving their skin, but I can’t accept it, not yet. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry!” The words tumble out of me, choked and desperate. Nana coughs, blood splattering on her lips as she tries to speak, and I lean in closer.

“Anya, you have nothing to apologize for,” she whispers, her voice shaky and weak. “We would’ve protected you no matter what.”

I choke on a sob, clutching her hand even tighter, my heart shattering at the sight of her fading before my eyes. Her words should comfort me, but they only deepen the guilt that gnaws at my chest. I glance over at Jacob’s mom, tears blurring my vision.I got her shot. Jacob will never forgive me.A wave of panic and dread crashes over me, drowning me in its intensity.

I’m too far gone in my self-blame to notice at first, but then Jacob’s mom squeezes my hand. I look down, and her eyes meet mine, soft and filled with understanding. She knows. She knows what I’m thinking.

“Anya, dear,” she says, her voice rasping with effort. “This is not your fault. It’s theirs. You are not to blame.” She coughs weakly, her hand trembling in mine.

My world tilts as I watch both women—the two women who had been my pillars of strength—start to fade before me.

“No! Please, Nana, don’t leave me!” My voice breaks, my breath ragged as I beg. “I can’t do this without you!” I scream for help, for someone to save them, but the only answer I get is Jacob’s mom squeezing my hand again.

“She’s gone, Anya,” she whispers, barely able to form the words. Her grip on me is loosening, and I feel the air being sucked out of the room. My heart races, panic surging through me as I face the unthinkable.

“No, no, no, please don’t leave me too,” I plead, my body trembling. But I can see it in her eyes—she’s slipping away.

“Jacob will never forgive me!” I scream, my voice breaking under the weight of my grief. I reach for her, but I can’t stop what’s coming. I can’t fix this.

Suddenly, paramedics rush into the room, and chaos takes over. They move quickly, taking Jacob’s mom’s frail body from my arms and laying her on the floor. CPR, oxygen masks, compressions—the barn is a blur of frantic movements and desperate attempts to save her. But her grip on my hand has already loosened, and I can feel her slipping away.

One of the paramedics kneels beside her, his fingers on her wrist, searching for a pulse. Another rushes to ready the stretcher, shouting commands over the din of medical equipment beeping around us. I’m frozen, barely breathing, as I watch them try to save her.Her chest doesn’t rise. The once frantic pace of the paramedics’ movements slows, and the determined expressions on their faces shift to something else—grim resignation. My heart plummets as the pulse monitor goes silent, its flatline echoing in the room.

“No!” I sob, collapsing next to her limp body, clutching her cold hand. “Please! Do something!” My voice cracks, my entire body shaking as I beg them to save her. But one of the paramedics looks at me, his face drawn, sympathy etched deep in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”

Those words hit me like a hammer to the chest. My knees buckle, and I fall to the floor, my sobs shaking through me in waves. I can’t stop the tears, the pain ripping through my chest like fire. Jacob’s mom—gone. And Nana—gone. Both of them, just like that. Gone because of me.

I curl up on the floor, my body convulsing with sobs as the reality of what’s happened crashes down on me. I failed them. I brought this mess into their lives, and now they’re both gone.

Through my haze of grief, I see Marissa, Jacob’s sister, sobbing uncontrollably over her mother’s body. The sight of her anguish pierces through the storm of my own emotions, adding a crushing layer to my guilt. Her world is shattering before her eyes, and I’m the reason why.

I can’t be here. I can’t let this happen to anyone else.

I have to leave. To keep everyone else safe.

In a blind panic, I bolt from the barn, my feet moving before my mind can catch up. Behind me, Marissa cries out, her voice pleading, “Anya, wait!” But I don’t stop. Her words barely register through the pounding in my ears. I can't face her, not after everything that’s happened.

My legs carry me to the stables, where Jacob and I once spent happier days, feeding the horses and laughing without a care in the world. Now, those memories feel like a cruel reminder of everything I’ve lost—of everything I’ve destroyed.

My hands fumble as I throw a saddle onto the horse, my fingers trembling and soaked in tears. I climb on, my breath ragged, and without looking back, I ride—away from the house, away from the pain, away from everything I love.

I ride for what feels like hours, the wind whipping through my hair, my tears drying on my cheeks as the landscape blurs past me. My heart feels like it’s been ripped from my chest, the weight of what I’ve done pressing down on me until I can hardly breathe. I’ve lost them both. Jacob will never forgive me.

Eventually, as the sun begins to rise, I find myself at a small lake hidden deep in the woods. The water is still, untouched, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside of me. I dismount, my legs shaky as I stumble toward the edge of the lake. I sink to my knees, staring at my reflection in the water. I barely recognize the person looking back at me.

The guilt is overwhelming, suffocating. But here, in this quiet place, I find a moment of clarity. I whisper their names—Nana, Jacob’s mom—and hope that, wherever they are, they can hear me. I hope they know how much I loved them, how much I’ll miss them.

As the sky begins to lighten and the sun rises over the horizon, a strange sense of peace washes over me. Not relief—no, the grief is still there, sharp and painful—but a quiet resolve. I can’t undo what’s happened. I can’t bring them back. But I can honor their memory. I can carry them with me, always.

I stand, my legs trembling, and turn back toward the path I came from. I don’t know what lies ahead, but I know one thing: I’ll never forget Nana and Jacob’s mom. Their love, their strength—it will guide me. Even through the darkness.

With a deep breath, I climb back onto the horse and ride into an uncertain future, determined to carry on in their memory, no matter what lies ahead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jacob

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