Page 53 of Until August
I couldn’t let myself off that easily. I should have known better.
“Cruz’s best friend drove me to the hospital, and when we got there, Cruz had been rushed into surgery.”
Frankie was alone in the waiting room, with Cruz’s blood on her hands and clothes. I will nevereverforget the look of devastation on her face. It still haunted me.
“It was the longest, most agonizing night of my life, waiting for news.” Not that I had to tell August, he’d been there with his son.
But he stayed quiet, listening to every word, his quiet strength reassuring.
“When he came out of surgery, all I cared about was that he was still alive. The doctor told me there’s a window of opportunity in the first seventy-two hours. If they took Cruz off life support, chances were good that he would pass away peacefully.”
That’s what he called it. A window of opportunity. As if something good would be waiting on the other side, and all I had to do was choose the right window.
I closed my eyes, feeling shaky.
August reached for my hand and clasped it in his big, warm, calloused one. For a moment, I stared at our joined hands. It had been so long since someone had held my hand like this. I once told Cruz that handholding was so underrated. For me, it was such an intimate gesture. It saidI’ve got you. We’re in this together.
Such a small, inconsequential thing, but it comforted me and gave me the strength to go on.
“I didn’t listen to the doctor. And I didn’t listen to Cruz’s sister or his best friend when they asked me to take Cruz off the vent and say goodbye.” I swallowed, brushing my thumb over his knuckles. “I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”
Human selfishness knew no bounds.
And what I’d done was the epitome of selfishness.
My vision blurred, and I could barely see August through the curtain of tears.
“So I told the doctor to keep my husband alive at any cost. When they took him off the vent two weeks later, he could breathe on his own, and it gave me hope. But it was a false hope.” August squeezed my hand, drawing my gaze to our clasped hands. “Cruz never came out of the coma. He slipped into a persistent vegetative state and has been like that for two years. And I…”
With each shallow breath, my heart grew heavier, and another crack formed.
“I made the wrong choice. Instead of letting him go peacefully,with grace, I prolonged his life and subjected him and everyone who loved him to a life of living hell. And now…” My throat closed up, and I couldn’t get the rest of the words out.
“You’re punishing yourself for a crime you didn’t commit,” he said. “For loving someone so much that you couldn’t bear to let them go.”
Oh God. How did he know?
A sob tore from my throat, and I broke.
My shoulders shook with the force of my sobs.
It felt like my heart was cracking down the middle.
I didn’t know if I was crying for Cruz or myself or if the naked truth of August’s words pushed me over the brink.
But I couldn’t stop crying.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Nicola
“Hey, hey. You’re okay.”August pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. My head fell to his shoulder, and he cupped the back of my head, holding me close. “You’re okay, Nicola. I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
It had been so long since anyone said those words to me that I actually believed them.
August was so big and strong, and he seemed invincible, even though I knew he wasn’t. But I felt safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt me. As if he alone could fight off my demons. Revive something inside of me that had died the night my husband was brutally beaten in a parking lot.
