won’t erase twenty or so years of a bad relationship, but it could be a beginning of something better. Who knows? Who the fuck knows… but what if?”
She rubbed her thumb over my knuckles. I was transfixed by the movement, the gentle glide of her fingertips. “I constantly live in regret and guilt, Maddox. I know what it feels like. That burden on your shoulders, the pain – nothing physical, but sometimes that ache in your heart is the worst. I don’t want that for you. One of us living through it is enough. You deserve better than that,” she said, wrenching my chest open and squeezing my bloody heart with her bare hands.
Lila reached up and touched the side of my face, cupping my cheek. “You are worthy of love, Maddox Coulter. And you deserve everything you want.”
I want you.
All I ever wanted was her. She was everything I needed.
Yet…
A throat cleared behind me, and I snapped away from Lila, as if someone had pulled my strings and I were a puppet. I looked at the intruder and found a tall man, with greyed hair, wearing a white coat. A doctor. Must be my father’s, because he was looking at me with a familiarity that I didn’t respond to.
“Maddox Coulter?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.
I rose to my feet. “Yes. You are?”
“Dr. Fitzpatrick. Devin Fitzpatrick. A very old friend of your father’s and his doctor.”
“Is he dying?” I asked, before I could swallow the words. My voice cracked, showing the first sign of emotion, since I walked into the hospital.
Devin Fitzpatrick gave me a look of pity, and I fucking hated it. He nodded his head slowly. “Your father has a history of polyps and Chron’s disease. Colon cancer is the second most deadly cancer. And this time, we weren’t able to detect it at an early stage, like before. The cancer tissues have spread. The small tumors have made their way all over his intestines, and the cancer cells keep developing and growing at a rate that’s nearly impossible for us to keep track, hence it’s spreading faster. Your father has fought a long battle. He doesn’t have long, Maddox. I’d suggest you spend his last moments with him.”
I felt Lila coming closer behind me, her heat burning into me. She placed a hand on my lower back, a simple touch, as if to remind me she was here. “How long?”
“Two months, max. He refused any form of medical help. Your father wants his final days to be in peace.” His voice lowered; his expression pained. “Without all the constant pain, chemo, drugs and surgeries. He went through it once. He knows how bad it can get.”
“So, you’re saying… he’s just awaiting his death. Without even putting up a fight or trying to survive?”
“It’s inevitable,” he said gently, as if to soothe a wounded animal. “At this point, even if we go through chemo, it will only extend his lifespan by a few months. At most, barely even a year. But he’ll suffer even worse.”
I shook my head. “The Brad Coulter never gives up.”
He smiled a bitter smile. “All men have a breaking point. We’re not as invincible as we like to believe.”
Devin clasped my shoulder, as if to comfort me. “I’m sorry.”
He walked away, and I was left with his words and empty condolences.
My fingers slid through my hair, and I pulled at the strands, feeling the burn in my scalp. The world became blurred, and the hospital spun.
FUCK.
Lila
I splashed cold water on my face and… breathed.
My reflection in the mirror reminded me of a wilted flower. Weary. Frightened. Lost. I hated hospitals. Loathed it with every fiber of my being. It reminded me too much of the past. And I was stuck in a loop. Having to relive my past and forcing myself to stay focused on Maddox.
I closed my eyes and thought of what the doctor said. Brad Coulter was dying, and there was nothing we could do.
It didn’t matter how much Maddox hated his father… I saw it in his eyes. He cared. He was worried. He… felt.
It was a strange way of connecting all the dots. Who would have thought that the big and mighty Brad Coulter would one day fall so hard? He had been a god amongst us mortals, and now, he was… dying. That was some reality check.
I shut off the tap and leaned against the sink, rubbing a hand over my wet face. The door slammed behind me,