he could read my mind. “He wasn’t alone. I got there in time to be with him. I told him he was loved, and he said to tell you not to be sad. That he had everything he wanted.” His voice broke.
I looked up at Beckett, my breaths short and choppy. “You saw him?”
“I did. I told him I adopted him, that he had a mom and dad who would do anything for him.”
He hadn’t been alone. There was something in that, right? He’d been born into the hands of his mother and died in the arms of his father.
“Good. I’m glad he knew. We should have told him earlier.” All that wasted time because I was so scared. All the days he could have had Beckett and known who he was to him.
“Was there pain?” He must have hurt so much, and I wasn’t there.
“At first, but it faded really quickly. He didn’t hurt at all when he passed. Ella, I promise you I did everything I could.”
“I know you did.” That was a given, even without knowing what had happened. Beckett would have died to save Colt. “Was he scared?” I started to cry again.
“No. He was so strong and so sure. He asked about Emma. He saved her, Ella. That’s why she lived. He pushed her to safety. He was so brave, and he loved you and Maisie so much. That’s what he said last. To tell you and Maisie that he loves you. And then he called me Dad, and he was gone. Just like that.”
The sobs started again, uncontrollable and unstoppable.
This wasn’t heartbreak. Or sorrow.
It was the utter desolation of my soul.
…
“There was nothing you could have done,” Dr. Franklin said from across the table, flanked by other doctors.
I looked out the window and saw the barest hint of sunrise.
I didn’t want it to be a new day. I wanted it to be the same day that I’d kissed him goodbye, hugged him before he got on the bus. I didn’t want to know what the sun looked like if it wasn’t shining on him.
“Colton had severe internal injuries, including a severed spine, ruptured spleen, and a tear in the aorta, combined with the laceration to the femoral artery. And those are just the things we saw on the ultrasound. Please believe me when I say that there was nothing you could have done, Mr. Gentry. If anything, your quick thinking on his leg gave you those minutes that you had.”
“That’s why it didn’t hurt,” Beckett said, his hand covering mine.
“He’d lost all feeling. It didn’t hurt.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks, but I didn’t bother to wipe them away. What was the point when they’d just be replaced?
“If I’d gotten there faster?” Beckett’s voice strangled the last word.
Dr. Franklin shook his head. “Even if he’d had that fall outside our ER, there’s nothing we could have done. Not even Montrose. Injuries that severe? The time you had was a miracle. I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
My loss.
Colt wasn’t lost. I knew exactly where he was.
He didn’t belong in the morgue. He belonged at home, sleeping, warm and safe in his bed.
“We need to go home,” I told Beckett. “We have to tell Maisie.” A fresh wave of tears fell. How was I supposed to tell my little girl that the other half of her heart was gone? How was she supposed to pick up and carry on as half a person?
“Okay. Let’s go home.”
Dr. Franklin said something to Beckett, and he nodded. Then somehow I put one foot in front of the other, and we headed for the front door.
I paused just before the doors. The twins were born here. I’d stood from the wheelchair in this very spot and carried them out in their car seats, ignoring the protests of the nurses, walking because I had to know I could do it on my own.
“Ella?”
“I can’t just leave him here.” My chest seized, and I struggled for a second before I could draw a breath. My own body didn’t want to live in a world without Colt.
Beckett’s arms surrounded me. “They have him. He’s safe. We’ll take care of him tomorrow. For now, let’s just get you home.”
“I don’t think I can move,” I whispered. I couldn’t make my feet budge, to leave Colt behind while I went home.
“Do you want me to help you?” he asked.
I nodded, and Beckett bent and picked me up, one hand behind my knees and the other