Page 109 of Faded Rhythm

He leans forward and fastens Dash’s chain around my neck with careful fingers, taking care to move the heavy pendant behind me. The click of the clasp sounds like a door closing and feels oddly final.

“I wanted to return this,” he says, “and make sure you were okay. But…” he trails off and grabs my hand in his. “I have to say goodbye.”

I blink at him, confused. Bewildered.

“Where are you going?”

“Away. For a while.”

“No,” I breathe, clutching his wrist. “Why?”

“Because…I’m not good for you.” His voice cracks. “You have daughters to think about, and I need to get my shit together. I’m not what you need, and I won’t be until I figure some shit out.”

“You don’t have to leave to do that,” I whisper, tears falling freely. “Please, Julian. I can’t lose another man I love.”

His eyes moisten, but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Sable. I have to go.”

And just like that, he walks out of my room and my life.

I should have known better, I suppose. A man with no family, no roots, a man accustomed to running from trouble, not to mention creating it. I really should have known better.

But that knowledge doesn’t make this any less painful.

I cry until my chest burns and my bandages feel like they’re suffocating me. I cry until my eyes run dry.

There’s a soft knock at the door.

A doctor steps in, tablet and clipboard in hand. She looks friendly, but concerned. She quietly takes a seat next to my bed and sets the clipboard in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she says gently, handling me a tissue. “This probably isn’t the best time, but my shift ends soon and I wanted to make sure we chatted first.”

I nod my thanks for the tissue. “Might as well.”

She adjusts her glasses. “You took a single gunshot wound just below your left clavicle. The bullet missed your heart and lung, thankfully. It was lodged near the subclavian artery. If it had hit even a centimeter to the right, it would have ruptured it.”

I glance down at the bandage covering my shoulder and chest, feeling the weight of that reality.

“We had to remove part of the damaged tissue. There’s going to be some stiffness in the joint for a while. You may need physical therapy to restore full mobility to your left arm, but that’s just a maybe. We’ll see how you progress over the next few weeks.”

I nod slowly, digesting it.

“Due to the location of the wound and the trauma to the nerves, you may experience numbness, tingling, or weakness in that arm over the long term. We’ll know more when your swelling goes down.”

She pauses, adjusting her glasses again. “Do you have someone that can be with you your first week home?”

“My mom and sister.”

“Okay, good. They told me you have small children. You’re going to need a little help, that’s all. Consider it a vacation.”

I give a weak chuckle.

“Other than that, your vitals are strong. You’re a fighter.”

Funny, because I just let a man I love walk out on mewithouta fight. I wonder how that works.

“Thank you,” I say. “So how much longer here?”

“Another few days. Just as a precaution.”

---