Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Tears blur my vision, and against Louisa’s knuckles, I whisper, “Come on, my love. Wake up. I need you.”
I close my eyes, my tears leaking out, and I know my words to be true.
I need her to look at me with those kaleidoscope hazel eyes.
I need her to be beside me, reading at night.
I need her to smile at me when we discuss our favorite parts of books.
I need to hear my name on those lips when she comes or even when she’s upset with me.
But most of all, I need her to love me.
I was so scared, so frightened, to allow myself to love her, but I have never felt fear like I feel right now.
The terror of losing her.
CHAPTER 51
Louisa
I ache everywhere.
But mostly on my right side.
I feel my hands being held, and I don’t have to open my eyes to know Ciaran has my right one. I’ve memorized the way his fingers fit with mine. But where am I? I try to open my eyes, but they don’t move. When I attempt to move my limbs, I’m met with resistance, and panic blooms in my chest.
What happened?
“Oh, he fell asleep,” Austen says with a sigh.
“He’ll probably piss his pants,” Clara adds. “He hasn’t used the bathroom at all. I get it. I don’t want to leave her side either, but even I have to pee!”
“You just don’t love her the way he does,” Elliot teases, and when I hear a slap, I know Clara popped her one. “Ouch! I was kidding!”
“Still. Not cool,” Clara snaps, and I want to laugh at them. I try to smile, but I don’t know if I do. I feel as if I’m under water. All foggy and disoriented.
“Let him sleep,” Eliza insists. “He has to be exhausted, and if he does piss his pants, no one say a word.”
Everyone agrees, but I know for a fact that they’ll tease him relentlessly. Though…why are they here? Why hasn’t Ciaran slept? What in the world is going on? Why does everything hurt? I try to open my eyes again, and it hurts to do so. I groan at the pain, and the room falls silent.
“Louisa?” I hear Austen ask. “I think she moaned.”
“You’re hearing things,” Elliot says to her. “She hasn’t moved in three days.”
Three days! What the hell! Despite the pain, I force my eyes open, blinking and groaning at the onset of pain. My blurry gaze falls on Austen, her eyes bloodshot and her face red. Her eyes widen, and she cries out, “Louisa!”
The sound pierces my ears, but the look of pure relief on her face has me ignoring the pain. “Oh my God, Lou,” Eliza breathes. “Get the doctor.”
The room is white, sterile, and I know instantly that I’m in a hospital. I move my gaze to each of my sisters, who all start crying. And I love them, I do, but I need to set eyes on Ciaran. I shift my eyes to where Ciaran is lying against my thigh, my hand in his. I see streaks on his cheek from tears. The tip of his nose is red, but he looks so peaceful. His lashes kiss his cheeks, and his deep inhales and exhales move his whole body. His brow is furrowed, almost as if he’s tense even in sleep. It kills me to see him like that. I swallow hard, but nothing leaves my lips when I try to call for him.
“Hold on, Lou. Don’t talk. You probably need water. Hold on,” Eliza stresses, brushing my hair behind my ear.
I look up at her and then back to Ciaran before meeting her gaze again.
“He hasn’t left your side.”
My heart pounds at that. My eyes widen because what about his games! It’s been three days! Oh my God, surely he didn’t fuck up his career. I feel like Eliza knows what I’m thinking, but she only shrugs as my peepaw comes into view.
“Hey there, Lou.” I try to smile, but I must look like I’m in pain, because he says, “I’m sorry. The doctors are coming.”
I look back at Ciaran, and with all my might, I wiggle my fingers. I watch as he jolts awake, his eyes on our hands before he snaps his gaze to mine. Such beautiful relief comes across his gorgeous face before his blue eyes well up with tears. They fall quickly as he stands, moving in so that our foreheads touch. “Louisa,” he says on an exhale. My heart thuds in my chest. “I love you.”
Peace falls over me, and I try to say it back, but once more, no words leave my lips. He must know what I want to say, though, for he gives me a dazzling grin before the room is full of nurses and a doctor. Even through all the questions, the poking and prodding, my eyes stay locked with his, my heart crying for him. It isn’t until Austen explains what happened that I finally move my gaze away.