The Ending I Want

by Samantha Towle

  My heart stills. “So, you are planning on going back to the hospital?”

  Her stare catches and holds mine. “Yes.”

  She says yes, but I can still see that darkness called guilt lining her eyes.

  “And the surgery?”

  “I’ll have it done,” she says the words quietly.

  And she’s saying them, but I can hear the doubt and anguish still in her voice.

  But she’s saying she’ll have it done, so I’ll take whatever I can to keep her healthy and alive and with me.

  “But, Hunter, you have to know…the surgery isn’t a guarantee. I’ve left it so long now, and—”

  “Shh.” I press my lips to her forehead. “I’ll get you the best doctors, Boston. You’ll get through this. You’ll be fine. And I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  She blinks up at me. “Holding my hand?”

  I smile gently. “If that’s what you need.”

  “I just need you.”

  “Right back at you, babe.” I capture her lips with mine again, kissing her. Moving from her mouth, I kiss her cheek, her forehead, down her nose, and back to her lips. “I love you.”

  She runs her fingers through my hair. “And I love you.”

  I kiss her one last time, and then I reluctantly break away. I might want to stay like this with her forever, but in reality, she needs to go back to the hospital.

  Taylor might look okay on the outside, but I know the inside is a very different story.

  “We need to think about moving. I need to get you back to the hospital.”

  “Not just yet.” She wraps her arms around me, pressing her face into my chest, holding me tight.

  “Babe…” I take hold of her arms, pulling them from around me. Then, I bring my hands up to cup her face.

  Her eyes are closed.

  “Open your eyes,” I gently command.

  She sighs, and there’s a moment of reluctance before she blinks them open.

  “You need to go to the hospital.”

  “I know. And I will go back. I just want a little more time with you before I do.”

  “Boston…” I don’t want to say that time isn’t something we have right now. So, instead, I say, “I’ll be there with you the whole time. I’m not leaving you. We’ll be together at the hospital.”

  “Not the whole time.”

  I know she’s thinking of the surgery. I’m thinking of the surgery.

  I’m afraid for her. I’m afraid for me. But she has to get through this because, for me, there isn’t a world where Taylor isn’t breathing and alive and with me.

  “I’ll be with you right until it’s time, and then I’ll be there when you open your eyes. I need you healthy, babe, and the only way that will happen is if I get you back to the hospital. And, as soon as you’re well, I’ll take you on a holiday, and we can spend every second of every day together. And, after that, we can spend our lives together.”

  “You mean that?”

  “I never say anything I don’t mean. Especially with you.”

  She’s staring into my eyes. Emotions are moving so quickly through them that I can’t grab ahold of one.

  “Okay,” she breathes. “Let’s go to the hospital.”

  “Well, we can either take a cab, or I can call Paul and have him drive us.”

  “Where’s your car?”

  “It’s currently sitting at Heathrow Airport with a clamp on the wheel.”

  Her eyes round. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle.

  But she’s not laughing. She looks sad.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “It’s my fault.” Her tone dips along with her eyes.

  I place my fingers under her chin and tilt her face up to mine. “What’s your fault?”

  “Your car getting clamped.”

  “And why do you say that?”

  “Because you went to the airport, looking for me.”

  “Hush.” I kiss her on the lips. “It’s just a clamp.”

  “On a million-dollar car.”

  One point seven million, but who’s counting? “Boston, the car’s not damaged. It’s fine. And I’ll be getting her back tomorrow. Now, are we getting a cab, or am I calling Paul?”

  “Call Paul.”

  “Okay.” I lead her back over to the sofa.

  She sits down. I get my phone out of my pocket and take the seat beside her.

  “I can’t believe your car got clamped.” Apparently, she’s still on that.

  I guess it is better than talking about where we’re about to go and how difficult these next few days…weeks are going to be.

  “Well, I did leave it in a no-parking zone.” I shrug. “They probably did me a favor by clamping it. It would probably have gotten stolen, if not.”

  “I can’t believe how blasé you’re being about it.”

  “It’s only a car.”

  “An expensive car.”

  “And you’re worth more.”

  Her eyes soften on me, and she leans in close, kissing me with a featherlight brush over my lips. “I love you,” she says the words like she needs to keep saying them to make it real.

  And I’m far from complaining.

  For that time, thinking Taylor didn’t feel the same as I did about her…it was fucking torture.

  To know she loves me…is the best feeling in the world.

  “I love you, too, Boston. Now, stop trying to distract me with your hot mouth, and let me call Paul.”

  “I wasn’t trying to distract you.”

  I lift a brow, and she laughs.

  “Okay, maybe I was trying to distract you a little bit.” Grinning, she shows an inch with her thumb and forefinger.

  Shaking my head, I laugh.

  Fuck, it feels good to laugh.

  I put my arm around her shoulder, pulling her to me. She lays her head on my shoulder.

  I call Paul, and he answers on the first ring. I tell him to come and pick us up from my apartment.

  “Paul will be here in fifteen minutes,” I tell Taylor as I hang up the phone. I slide it back into my pocket.

  She doesn’t say anything. And I notice how tense her body is with her fingers curled up in her lap.

  “Hey.” I lift the shoulder her head is on, gently nudging her.

  She slowly lifts her head and looks at me. Her eyes are shimmering with tears.

  “Babe?”

  She shuts her eyes and lets out a ragged breath. “I’m afraid, Hunter.”

  A vise clamps itself around my chest and squeezes hard.

  Turning to her, I take her face in my hands. “Don’t be. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m here. And I’ll be here with you the whole time. I’ll keep you safe. I will always keep you safe.”

  But that’s a lie.

  Not that I won’t keep her safe because I will. I’ll always do everything in my power to keep Taylor safe.

  But this…this is out of my hands, and that scares me.

  No, fuck scared. It terrifies me.

  Part of me is afraid that the surgery won’t work. That, after all of this, I will end up losing her anyway.

  But I don’t vocalize it. I hide it.

  And, when she opens her eyes and gives me a weak smile, I return that smile, forcing mine to be stronger. All the while, I conceal my fears as I lean close and kiss her forehead one last time.

  The room is dark, except for the soft glow coming from the television across the room.

  We’re back to where we were last night—Taylor in a hospital bed and me by her side. But I’m sitting this time, not pacing around the room, pleading with her to live.

  The same, but everything has changed.

  I’ve arranged for her to have the best brain surgeon in England to come to do her surgery, and it’s scheduled for first thing in the morning.

  Also, we’re in a different hospital room than the one Taylor was in last night. I want her to be comfortable. So, I had them put her in a p
rivate room, the best they have.

  Donations to the hospital go a long way in getting what you want.

  Money brings power, and I have a lot of both, so I will use all of it, if necessary, to ensure Taylor gets better.

  Something else that’s different now…I know she loves me.

  She loves me, and we’re together.

  And we’ll be starting our life together as soon as she’s better.

  She is going to get better.

  I glance back at her face. Her eyes are closed.

  I pick up the remote control from the bed and turn off the television. The moon is full and bright, giving some light to the room.

  I stare out the window, up at the moon and the stars glittering around it.

  I’m not a religious man. I’ve never been the kind of man who prays, but right now, I’m praying.

  Don’t take her. Please.

  Turning my chair to face Taylor’s bed, I lean over, resting my arms on the bed, and I gently press my face into her stomach.

  I inhale her scent. She smells of everything I want.

  Her. I just want her.

  Fingers touch my head, slightly startling me.

  “I thought you were sleeping,” I say against her stomach.

  “Just resting a moment. Talk to me, Hunter.” Her voice is a soft whisper.

  I turn my head, resting my cheek against her stomach, so I can look at her face. Even in the muted darkness, I can see how beautiful she is. I will never tire of looking at her.

  “What do you want me to talk about?”

  “Anything…but not about what’s going to happen tomorrow. Don’t talk about that.”

  The surgery.

  My mind goes blank as I try to think of something to say. Because the surgery is all I can think of.

  “Nothing to say?” Her lips lift into a smile. “Not like you, Hunter.”

  “Your beauty has stolen all my words.”

  “Did you steal that line from a book?”

  “Probably.” I grin.

  Her fingers start gently sifting through my hair. “Tell me about the time you sang to that girl. The one you were trying to win back.”

  “I thought Cam and Eddie told you all the gory details?”

  “They did, and it made me laugh. I want you to tell me, so I can laugh again.”

  God, I want to hear her laugh. More than anything, I want to make her happy.

  I want her to be healthy and happy.

  But I don’t have the power to make her healthy. And I hate the way that makes me feel.

  Weak and powerless.

  But, for her, I shove my feelings aside and decide on the best and quickest way to make her laugh.

  I start singing the words to “I Want It That Way.”

  She laughs, and it’s fucking music to my ears.

  “You’re crazy,” she tells me.

  “Crazy about you.”

  My eyes meet with hers. She’s smiling, but even in this darkness, I can tell she’s not happy. She’s afraid. And it hurts to know that there’s nothing I can do to eradicate that fear.

  “You shouldn’t sing that song to me, Hunter. That’s your breakup song with another girl. It’s not our song.”

  “We have a song?”

  “We do.” She smiles. This one seems more genuine. It reaches all the way to her eyes.

  That smile makes my heart beat faster.

  “Are you going to let me in on what our song is?”

  “‘If You’re Not the One’—that’s our song. So, if you’re going to sing to me, you sing that to me.”

  “If You’re Not the One” was the song that was accidentally playing on repeat when I asked her to stay in London with me. The night when she told me she didn’t love me and then ran out of my apartment. The night that was the start of my world spiraling out of control.

  Two nights ago.

  How was that only two nights ago?

  “I don’t know if that’s our song, babe…”

  Her fingers stop moving through my hair. “You told me you loved me for the first time while that song was playing.”

  “You left me while that song was playing.”

  Her hand slips from my hair. She goes silent, and I worry that I’ve upset her.

  Fuck. Upsetting her is the last thing I want to do.

  I look back at her face. Her eyes are on the ceiling.

  “Taylor…”

  “You’re right. It was a stupid thing to say.”

  “I’m being stupid. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t stay then. It matters that you’re here now.”

  That’s all I care about.

  Her eyes drift back to mine. There are so many emotions in them that I feel them wrap around my chest and clamp down tight, making it hard to breathe.

  “I wanted to stay,” she whispers. “In that moment, when you asked me to stay with you, I wanted to say yes so very badly. I wanted to tell you I loved you. Because I did love you then and before, and I love you now.”

  I suck in air. “I know,” I say, pressing my face back into her stomach.

  I’m such a fucking idiot. Why did I have to say that about the song? It’s important to her, so it should be important to me. And it is.

  Her hand comes back to my hair, her fingers slipping into the strands. “We’ll get our song one day,” she says softly.

  “No.” I turn my cheek back to her stomach. “You’re right. It is ours. It might not be perfect…but it’s ours. Only I can’t sing it to you because I don’t know all the words.” I grin.

  Laughter falls from her lips, and my heart feels light again.

  “Play it to me?” she suggests.

  Sitting up, I get my phone from my pocket and find the song in my playlist. I press play and set my phone on the bed beside her. Then, I lay my cheek back on her stomach, and I stare up at her face while our song plays.

  “What changed your mind?” I ask quietly.

  Her eyes come back to mine, and I know I don’t need to elaborate because I see the understanding in them. She knows I’m asking about having the surgery.

  “You. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left. The things you said. And my heart…she’s kind of weak when it comes to you.” She smiles sadly. “Also…Eddie came to see me.”

  “Eddie?” I sit up. “He came to the hospital to see you?”

  “About an hour after you’d left, he turned up. He said he was due to start his shift. Wanted to check in on me. See how I was doing.”

  “And what else did he say?”

  Her eyes come to mine. “He told me that he knew…what I was planning to do.”

  “I’m sorry.” I push a hand through my hair. “I was a mess. I needed someone to talk to. Cam and Eddie are my best friends.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t mind that you told them. It was the truth.”

  Was being the operative word, thankfully.

  “So, what did Eddie say?” I ask, laying my head back down on her stomach.

  Her hand comes back down to play with my hair. “He didn’t beat around the bush. He was pretty straight to the point, but that was okay because I think it was what I needed.” She blows out a breath. “He said that we all die someday, under different circumstances, and he asked me why my day had to be today—figuratively speaking. He knew that I wanted to be with my family, but he said that my family would want me to live, and that…I would be with them one day. It just didn’t have to be right now. That I had someone here, who loved me.” Her eyes soften on mine. “And he said to be loved by you…that was worth fighting for. Life was worth fighting for.”

  My throat feels all choked up. “What else did he say?”

  “Not much. He left soon after that.”

  I don’t care that Eddie’s words were the turning point for her. I just care that she changed her mind. I guess, sometimes, it takes someone on the outside to make you see sense.

  Guess I owe Eddie a pint. Or maybe his own private jet.

/>   “After Eddie left, I couldn’t get his words out of my head and all the things that you had said to me…knowing that you love me. And knowing that I love you and you didn’t know…I just had to see you. Tell you that. I guess…” She bites her lip. “I wasn’t a hundred percent convinced that I wasn’t still going to go through with it…but then, when you walked in and I saw you standing there, I just knew that I couldn’t leave you again. I know that makes me selfish.”

  I lift my head. “Wanting to live isn’t selfish.”

  Her head tips back, her eyes going to the ceiling.

  “Babe, what happened to your family…it wasn’t your fault. You have to know that.”

  She exhales a sad breath. “I want to believe that…and I hear everything that you’re saying…but I just don’t feel it in here.” She touches her hand to her chest, over where her heart lies.

  “After you lost your family, did you talk to anyone?”

  She brings her eyes to mine. “Like a therapist?”

  “Yeah, like a therapist or a grief counselor.”

  Turning her face to the window, she shakes her head.

  She’s been struggling through this alone for all this time. The thought of her alone and hurting kills me.

  “Boston…I think talking to someone who understands these kinds of things would be a good idea. I saw a grief counselor after my mum died. It helped me a lot.”

  She blows out a tired-sounding breath. “Yeah, I guess I could talk to someone.”

  After the surgery and she’s better, I’ll arrange for her to see a therapist. I will do anything to help her.

  She takes a breath, and it sounds shaky.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  I hear tears in her voice, and it guts me.

  “For not telling you I was sick right from the start.”

  She turns her face back to mine, and I see those tears shimmering in her eyes.

  “I know it was wrong of me, not telling you, but…” She nervously bites her lip. “Well, a part of me doesn’t regret not telling you, and I know how awful that sounds. But it’s because…well, maybe if I had told you from the start, you wouldn’t have stayed.”

  “Boston”—I brush my fingers over her cheek—“I would have stayed.” I tell her this with the certainty I know I feel. “I would have stayed because I’m pretty sure I was in love with you from the moment you surprise-kissed me on the plane. You had me instantly. I wasn’t going anywhere then…and I’m not going anywhere now.”