Page 90 of Then Came You

We sob together until we’re both too exhausted.

I stare at her beautiful emaciated face. Her eyes are the same as mine - rich chocolate. I don’t dare glance away out of fear it will be the last time I see them.

Sometime later in the silence of the night, she flutters them closed for the last time, her heart slowing and stopping against my beating chest.

My sister is dead.

The coding of the heart monitor confirms it, along with Dr. Cecily.

Clinging to her lifeless body like a koala, I refuse to part from her. Eventually, I’m pried away and placed in a chair. I again refuse to move, wanting to stay with her as long as I can. I watch the nurses cover her with a sheet and wheel her out of the room to the morgue.

“Sweetheart,” Nurse Dee consoles me as I collapse in her arms. “What can I do for you, honey?” I cry out in anguish.

I have nothing. I have no one. I have no home. I have no idea where to go and what to do from here.

I’m not allowed to leave the hospital after a doctor assesses that I display behaviours of self-harm. He’s way off base. I’m just a grieving sister who lost her last family member. Staying overnight is really the best option considering I don’t want to go back to Tori’s just yet.

The next 24 hours are a blur, between being discharged, organising an emergency counselling session, arranging details for Tori’s funeral, and packing just enough clothes to last me the week so I can crash at Trish’s house.

I’m officially on leave from work, so Blade is none the wiser that Tori is dead.

Not wanting to burden him anymore with me or my problems, I write him a generic text telling him to take all the time he needs.

Chapter 38

Blade

Four days have passed and not a second has been wasted on anything other than trying to talk to Avalon and Xander. Avalon wasn’t the type of person to keep Haven away from me, but she was so pissed when she caught Row and me that I couldn’t be sure.

Av has yelled at me a lot, while Xander has flat out ignored me completely.

The only fragment of a rainbow peeking out from behind this massive shit storm is the fact that Row and I are fine. She’s perfect and knows just what I need. I told her I didn’t want to burden her with this and would make it right, and she seemed amiable for me to take control.

Tonight, I plan to actually call my girl to check in, but I can’t say I’m not grateful that she allowed me the time and space to work things out.

What I’m more looking forward to is actually taking my girl out on dates and showing her off to the world. There’s no more hiding. No more secrets. The media didn’t seem too fussed with my dating life, which is an enormous relief. It just meant there was one less fire to put out, which at this stage was a huge blessing.

The last obstacle to tackle is one I have no idea how to hurdle over. Zee.

My broken heart has been in constant agony over how he found out and the distraught look on his face. He hates me, and I can’t say I don’t blame him.

I’m not overly concerned about his whereabouts or if he’s okay. I’ve checked his bank account and he’s still tapping his card, plus Alex and Dad have been checking in and he’s responding. I’ve been blocked on social media, but I can see his bitchy friend, Cindy, has been posting stories about both of them.

After things settle this week, I’m going to do everything in my power to win his trust back. I’ve called and texted, apologizing profusely for my anger toward him, as well as all my other fuck-ups, but I don’t blame him if he never wants to speak to me again.

I’ll do almost anything for us to be father and son again - except give up Row.

Flopping my head back on the lounge, I feel the weariness of the last few days setting in. I’ve lived off V drinks and KFC, and haven’t even bothered to shower. I know a good meal, piping hot shower, and a decent night’s sleep would solve half my problems, but to be truly sated and rested, I need Row.

She instils this peace and comfort that I’ve never known before.

I miss her madly, in an obvious way, from the soft texture of her skin, her gorgeous soulful eyes, edgy pink hair, and her sugary sweetness.

But I also miss the things that may go unnoticed, like how when I bite her on the shoulder just below her neck, goosebumps light up her skin, or the two tiny freckles on her left hand that look like she’s been bitten by a snake.

I miss her random drumming on the desk when she’s listening to Bad Omens in her headphones, forgetting that she’s in an open-plan office, or how her eyes light up in childish wonder when I introduce her to a new experience.

I miss how devastatingly divine she is the first thing in the morning and remains that way until the last minutes of the night.

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