Page 120 of Wild Tangled Hearts

“I don’t want to talk to you,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

“Bella, please—” Sebastian coughs roughly. And I take a moment to glance at him. His disheveled appearance surprises me. His face is pale, his hair is a mess, and his shirt is untucked and unbuttoned at the collar.

His vulnerability makes my heart ache, but I ignore it.

“Hear me out,” he implores, his voice strained and desperate. He takes a hesitant step closer, and I shake my head.

“There’s nothing you can say, Sebastian.”

“I promise you, Bella, I would never betray you like that. I was—”

“How stupid do you think I am?” My voice raises, and when a man walking his dog lifts an eyebrow at me, I lower my tone. “You were alone in a hotel room with another woman, half-naked.”

“She’s a doctor.”

I laugh, the sound holding no humor. “Right. How long did it take you to come up with that?”

He takes another step towards me, those dark eyes imploring. “I promise you. Her name is Dr. Jasna Loncar. She’s a pulmonologist. You can look her up.”

My anger wavers, and for a moment, doubt creeps in.

Could he be telling the truth?

As much as I want to believe him, my heart has been through too much pain already.

“Why was she there?” I know that even asking puts my fragile heart at risk once more.

“Because—” As he attempts to speak, he coughs uncontrollably, doubling over in a fit so violent he clutches his chest in pain. I take a step toward him, my anger momentarily replaced by concern.

“Are you okay?”

He doesn’t respond immediately, still wracked with coughing. But as he pulls his hand away from his mouth, it’s streaked with blood.

Alarmed, I gasp, “Sebastian.”

He shakes his head. “I’m okay, I just...I need you to know that I love you. So fucking much, Bella.”

I meet his gaze, and in that moment, I see the undeniable truth in his eyes. Despite the pain and confusion between us, his love for me is unwavering, and I can feel it deep within my soul.

Sebastian coughs again, and this time it’s even worse. He staggers and collapses onto my porch, gasping for breath. Panic courses through me when he pulls his hand back, displaying more streaks of bright red blood.

My heart races, and without hesitation, I grab my phone and dial 911, my hands trembling. “I need an ambulance,” I say urgently, trying to keep my voice steady as I provide my address.

Fear grips me as I kneel beside him, and he struggles to breathe.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says, between gasps of air.

A team of paramedics rushes to help Sebastian as soon as the ambulance arrives. They quickly get to work, assessing his condition and administering oxygen to help him breathe. I watch in sheer terror, helpless as they work to stabilize him.

The paramedic looks at me and asks, “Does he have any underlying medical conditions?”

I’m taken aback by the question, but before I can respond, Sebastian speaks weakly, “Cystic fibrosis.”

“What?” I stammer, unable to comprehend his words. My mind races with a thousand questions, each more urgent than the last.

The paramedics work diligently to stabilize Sebastian as they prepare to move him into the ambulance, and a sense of dread grips me. The memories of the stories he’d shared about his brother Tobias linger in my mind like a haunting shadow.

I step closer, my voice shaking, but filled with determination. “I’ll meet you at the hospital,” I tell him, my eyes locked onto his. “It’ll be okay.”

---