Unspoken Fears (The Unspoken Love Series Book 4)

by H. P. Davenport

  Brandon leans down, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Take all the time you need. No one will rush you. I’ll give you some privacy.”

  Sitting in the chair, I grab Keith’s hand in mine. “I love you so much. I can’t watch you suffer anymore.”

  I’m paralyzed, dead inside. I wish I could escape the pain inside, but I can’t. Seeing Keith on all these machines leaves me cold, crippled, hollow.

  I can hear Keith’s voice if I close my eyes and push through the pain. He wouldn’t want this.

  Brandon stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders giving me the support I need.

  If Keith has to leave me, I know his presence will always be with me. This pain is just too real to watch him lie here lifeless. I take Keith’s hand in mine and lift it to my mouth, placing a soft kiss against it.

  “Rory, let me go. I love you, baby.” I hear Keith’s voice.

  My eyes snap up to his, but I don’t see his blue eyes staring back at me. Instead, all I see is his lifeless body hooked up to machines. I know the decision I need to make.

  A few hours pass, and Keith’s parents walk into the room.

  Kathy embraces me, “You know Keith wouldn’t want this.”

  “I know. I want you to be here when they take him back.”

  “Of course, sweetie, we would never let you go through this on your own,” she speaks in a suffocated whisper.

  Pulling away, I exit the room to speak to one of the nurses at the station to advise them of my decision. I sign the papers necessary for the organ donation and return to Keith’s room.

  Thirty minutes pass by and Dr. DiGorio enters the room along with the CORE coordinator. “Keith’s donated organs have matched with five potential recipients. As you know, recipient selection is based on blood type, body size, medical urgency and length of time on the waiting list.

  I lift my hand, wanting him to stop speaking. “I’m a doctor. I know the procedures. You don’t need to tell me.”

  “The transplant surgery team has arrived,” Dr. DiGorio states.

  I nod. “He needs to be taken to the operating room. I know.”

  In a short time, Keith’s heart will no longer be his. My heart breaks with this thought. I’m letting Keith go, but that doesn’t mean I want to. Knowing his organs will help save others is my only saving grace.

  My fingers grip Keith’s wrist. It pulsed and pulsed again. This will be the last time I’ll feel it.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” the CORE coordinator says. “He will save so many others.”

  A tense silence envelops the room. I shake my head as I hear his words, but I can’t respond. This can’t be real. This is just a fucking dream, a horrible nightmare I’ll wake up from.

  The reality finally hits me. Keith is gone. I knew it in my heart because it no longer felt as though it was beating, rather shattering. I can’t feel Keith anymore. His body may have been lying right in front of me, but he was gone. A lifeless body was here, his soul went to live with angels.

  Touching his face, I leaned down and kissed his lips for the last time. “You will always be with me. I will love you forever,” I whisper against his lips.

  Brandon pushes the chair over, “Here, sit.”

  I fall into the chair and clasp Keith’s hand within mine. “You will always be a part of me. I will forever feel your strength when I need it most. You’re gone, but I will never forget you.” My chest feels as if it’s going to burst.

  Standing, I move to the window and stare out it. Keith’s parents stand beside the bed saying their goodbyes.

  Heaven opened its door tonight to us. In a few hours, Heaven will gain another angel.

  Dr. DiGorio clears his throat. I walk over to the side of the bed, lift Keith’s hand to my lips, and whisper. “I’ll see you again, sweetheart. You may not be here anymore, but you will walk beside us for the rest of our lives.” I breathe in shallow, quick gasps. My throat thick with saliva.

  Losing Keith’s love leaves me hollow.

  Barren.

  Crippled.

  I don’t know how I’m going to be able to go on. How I’m going to be able to escape the pain buried inside my heart, my soul.

  We exit the room and Brandon pulls me into his arms and cries with me in the hallway. We seize each other and grieve the loss of a man we both love. We hold each other for what seems like hours.

  Our special moments will always bring a smile to my face. If only I could bring Keith back again, I would. Our love story wasn’t finished. There was so much more to be written.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rory

  April 2017

  Thousands turn out for the Mass at the cathedral to remember their fallen hero. People stood in line for hours to pay their respects. Not everyone could fit into the cathedral for the services, large screens were set up outside so all could view.

  The city I love more than anything blanketed me today with their support.

  Philadelphia comes to a standstill as the funeral procession travels north on Interstate 95. The roads are closed as we make our way to Keith’s final resting place. An escort of hundreds of police vehicles guide the funeral procession from the Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul to Resurrection Cemetery.

  I sit quietly in the limousine, staring out the window. Cars line up on the overpasses, police officers salute, and civilians wave American flags as our procession passes beneath them.

  When we reach the entrance to the cemetery, a large American flag moves freely back and forth as it hangs from the apex of two aerial extended Philadelphia Fire Department ladder trucks.

  Grey skies chase the light away as a storm brews in the distance. I watch as the clouds grow larger and hover over the pristine grounds, above the sorrowful crowd. I don’t want to be here. I want to close my eyes, click my heels, and wish to be in a place far, far away. To go back to when my life was perfect, to when we were perfect. To when we were whole.

  We exit the limousine, both my parents and Keith’s rode with me. Brandon approaches and stands by my side. He takes my hand in his and holds it tightly. My eyes meet his as unshed tears swell but never fall. Brandon leans in and kisses my forehead softly, whispering, “I’m so sorry, Rory.”

  I pinch my eyes shut and nod my head.

  I’ve known Brandon for nine years. Keith and Brandon were in the academy together. They were partners for six years in the Strike Force. Brandon is family. He wasn’t just Keith’s brother, he’s mine, as well.

  Members of The Philadelphia Police Honor Guard walk in front of the horse-drawn caisson as it winds its way through the cemetery. We follow behind the flag-draped casket as bagpipes play. Police officers in formal dress stand on both sides of the path and salute as we pass.

  Finally, we reach the site where Keith will be laid to rest. Bagpipers continue to play as the six pallbearers, members of the Strike Force—his brothers—in ceremonial dress carry the casket to the open grave site. Many bow their heads, many salute, many cry.

  Brandon helps me into my seat at the front. My eyes focus on the one thing that sits before me… a silver casket covered with an American Flag. The casket holds the body of my husband, the father of my child, who was killed in the line of duty.

  Hundreds of uniformed officers surround the site. Some I recognize, most I don’t. I was told officers came from all over the country to honor my husband. Each wears a solid black band horizontally across the center of their badges. The officers will wear the mourning band for thirty days from the date of Keith’s death. A small smile appears on my face knowing my husband is surrounded by so many people who love and respect him.

  A crucifix lay on the top of the flag, placed there by the priest. I close my eyes, trying not to allow the tears to fall.

  When I open them, all I can do is gaze straight ahead, willing this day to be over. Words are spoken around me, but I hear nothing. Everywhere I look everyone has the same grim expression on their face.

  My father places
his arm across the back of my chair and pulls me into the side of his body. That’s all it takes—my father’s embrace—for the dam to break. I cry uncontrollably into his shoulder. My father doesn’t speak, his hand rubs up and down my arm. No words are needed. Nothing can take away the pain I feel, the emptiness in my heart.

  I am numb.

  I am tired.

  I am worn.

  I am weak.

  My hope is crushed.

  My heart is broken.

  I have nothing left… except…

  My hand moves to my stomach. My swollen belly that isn’t yet noticeable to everyone.

  My body shudders as tears stream down my face uncontrollably.

  My perfect life crumbled in a matter of a few hours. What was my worst nightmare became my normal.

  The priest stands in front of the casket and clears his throat. He speaks of how Keith is no longer in pain, how he is by the Lord’s side watching over us.

  I only half listen as I struggle to hold it together. The misery presses the weight as heavy as steel on my heart, making it sink from the unfairness of it all. The only beauty in the cloud of ugliness are the flowers around the casket.

  “May it comfort you to know Keith is safe in God’s care. Know that your friends and family are praying for you in your time of sorrow,” the priest says.

  I wrap myself in a cocoon of anguish. He speaks of comfort. How can I possibly find any comfort knowing I’m alone? Alone in the world, where Keith is supposed to be by my side. My eyes bounce around the crowd. I feel as if everyone was staring at me, focused on me. My chest tightens, my breaths come faster.

  “I can’t breathe,” I murmur as I grasp Brandon’s hand.

  “Inhale, exhale. Listen to the sound of my voice, Rory. Inhale, exhale,” Brandon whispers.

  After the priest finishes the prayer, Commissioner Robert Williams stands before us.

  “We are here today to honor fallen officer, Keith Gormley. As officers, we are trained to protect others. Keith not only protected others, he was a hero on the streets of Philadelphia. Before Keith joined the Strike Force, he was a patrolman. Citizens in the community knew Keith. He would stop and talk to those who sat on their steps. He would help those in the community who needed a helping hand. Whether it was food, clothing, or even just someone to talk to, Keith was always there.

  “Our families fear every day when we leave the house. People don’t realize officers fear as well. We are afraid, too, but we never express those feelings. Every day we risk our lives for others. Every day we risk losing our families.”

  Swallowing the sob that rises in my throat, I look up. His expression is grim as he watches me. He’s had to stand before a crowd like this quite a few times. He’s been the commissioner for ten years, and in that time, thirteen officers have been killed in the line of duty, Keith is the fourteenth.

  “Officer Gormley faithfully served Philadelphia County with dedication. He will forever be loved and missed, by not only his brothers and sisters of the police force, his family, but also by the entire city.”

  Commissioner Williams walks over and stands in front of me. He takes my hands in his. “Rory, your husband is a hero,” his voice drops in volume.

  He turns to Keith’s parents and takes his mom’s hand in his. “Mr. and Mrs. Gormley, your son sacrificed his life for this city. He will never be forgotten.” He lets go of Kathy’s hand to shake John’s. John wipes his face and sighs heavily, his voice filled with anguish. “Thank you.”

  John sits next to his wife in uniform. He’s a veteran of the force of nearly thirty years, joining the force when he was just barely twenty-one. He’s slated to retire this coming January, so I know this hit really close to home for him.

  I watch as Kathy closes her eyes, my heart aching with pain. She covers her face with trembling hands and gives vent to the agony of her loss.

  Commissioner Williams returns to his seat as I’ll See You Again by Westlife filters softly through the speakers.

  Brandon holds my left hand tightly the entire time. His body shakes as tears roll down his cheeks. Brandon is struggling with Keith’s death. On numerous occasions, he’s told me he wished it was him rather than Keith. The mere thought of that was ridiculous. Keith and Brandon knew the dangers of their job and they accepted it.

  Keith wasn’t allowed to tell me when or where drug raids were going down. I would hear about them on the news, or when he came home from work that night. He would kiss me before he walked out the door and whisper in my ear, “I promise I will return home safe.”

  Every night when he came home from work, he would say the same thing, and kiss me. That fateful night, I didn’t get a kiss, or a promise. Rather, I received a knock on my door… a knock that destroyed me.

  Brandon lets go of my hand and stands. He pushes his hands deep into his pockets and walks to the podium by the casket. He turns toward the casket and places his hand on top. Brandon squeezes his eyes shut, then turns to face us, clearing his throat.

  “On behalf of the entire Gormley family I want to thank each of you for being here—not just today, but over the past several days. As we have tried to come to grips with this horrific tragedy, the Gormley family has been comforted by knowing Keith was loved by so many.”

  He clears this throat, although his voice is still hoarse when he speaks. “Losing a loved one is one of the most painful and difficult experiences for anyone to withstand. When Rory asked if I would say a few words about my partner, my brother, my best friend, in addition to being humbled and honored, my first thoughts were: What can you say when there are no words? What can you say or do when there is nothing that will take the pain away? So here we are—heartbroken, devastated, and lost. We are drowning in grief.”

  Brandon’s eyes lock with Keith’s parents. “A parents’ greatest fear is to bury a child.”

  His gaze shifts to me. “A wife’s greatest fear is to bury her husband or child. One should never have to experience this.”

  My chest feels like there is a weight sitting on it. I sit back in my chair with my folded papers in my trembling hands and take a deep breath.

  “To Kathy and John, I cannot comprehend the depth of your grief. You’ve lost your only son. We all know how much you loved him and how proud of him you were.

  “To Rory, we grieve with you for the future you will not have with Keith. We grieve for the child Keith will never meet. We grieve for the father he wasn’t able to be.”

  Kathy weeps louder at the announcement of our unborn child. Keith and I hadn’t make our pregnancy known yet, only our immediate family and Brandon are aware we are expecting our first child. Tears streak down my cheeks and my bottom lip quivers.

  Brandon looks around at the officers surrounding the site. Seeing Brandon’s pain as he looks at his fellow officers chokes my throat with my own tears.

  “To my fellow officers, sometimes things are out of our control. The pain each of us feels is raw and devastating. Do not think that you could have done something different. The what ifs in life will kill us all. I stand before you today and I know my best friend knows we did all we could to save him. He wouldn’t want his brothers to carry guilt on their shoulders with the what ifs of the world. So, I ask we gather not just to mourn the death of Keith, but to celebrate his life that brought joy to so many.”

  I close my eyes, wishing I could feel Keith’s embrace. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, wishing this was a dream I could wake from. This has to be a nightmare. This can’t be my life.

  Brandon’s voice brings me back to my reality.

  “Keith loved his family and they will always love him. I promise you, Rory, I will always be here for you. You are like a sister to me and I know Keith would do the same if the situation were different.”

  Brandon folds the papers and tucks them inside his suit coat.

  I stand up to meet him when he reaches his seat.

  “That was beautiful.” I wipe tears from my cheeks.

  He
pulls me into his embrace, whispering in my ear, “You don’t have to do this.”

  I nod my head, swallow the sob that rises in my throat, and look up. “I have to. Keith would want me to,” I say softly as I wipe the tears from my face.

  I clear my throat and stand behind the podium. Quickly, I brush away the tears. With shaky hands, I open the sheets of paper holding my speech. Swallowing the sob rising in my throat, I look up.

  “Life isn’t fair. I should never have had to feel this pain. Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am, but I’m not. Each day has been a struggle to go on,” my voice wavers.

  “My husband was the bravest man I know. He was courageous, loving, and strong. Keith followed his dreams of becoming a police officer and I’m proud of the man he’d become.”

  My voice cracks with emotion and my eyes fall closed when I feel the sting of tears coming on. Fat tears streak down my cheeks, and my bottom lip quivers. When I look up from my papers, Kathy is sobbing into John’s shoulder. Seeing their pain breaks me even more.

  My mother takes Kathy’s hand in hers. Our parents have known each other for years and are close. Keith’s parents aren’t the only ones grieving, my parents are as well.

  Taking a deep breath, I clear my throat. My heart hammers strongly in my chest and my palms are sweaty.

  “Keith always kissed me goodbye and promised he would return home safely. That was a promise he couldn’t keep, a promise out of his control. I feared for his safety when he left the house. Fear would sometimes blind me. I feared my husband would be injured. I feared he would be killed. In my heart, I had always been afraid. We talked openly about our fears.”

  My body shakes as fearful images build in my mind. Thoughts of what Keith endured shatter me. The mere thought tears my insides, causing my stomach to clench tightly. Tears well in my eyes.

  I swallow the despair in my throat. Brandon captures my eyes with his. He gives me a little smile which encourages me to continue.