Chapter 159: He can’t be dead.

I stare at Rocco and for a moment, I genuinely don’t understand the words that have just come out of his mouth.

I simply stand there, shaking my head slowly, waiting for him to take it back.

"That’s not funny."

Rocco’s expression tightens.

"Nerissa, listen..."

"No." I raise a hand, stopping him. "You need to go back inside. You need to do whatever you were doing. He’s not dead."

He looks at me with an expression I don’t want to understand.

"Please, just let me explain."

"Explain what?" My voice comes out sharper than I intend. "That you couldn’t save him? No. Go back inside and fucking try again."

"Nerissa..."

"He was talking to me in the car!" I insist, stepping closer. "He was conscious. He was complaining about my driving, for fuck’s sake! He can’t be dead!"

Rocco takes a slow breath.

"I did everything I could."

I look between him and the closed door behind him, waiting for someone to tell me this is some horrible misunderstanding, that it’s just a sick joke.

But nobody does.

I take a step backwards then another. My legs suddenly feel weak, and before I can stop myself, my knees begin to buckle.

Fernando catches me by the arms.

"Easy."

I barely register his voice.

I stare at the floor, trying to make sense of what I’m hearing.

Lysander is dead?

No. That doesn’t make any sense.....He can’t be dead.

How can someone be alive one moment and gone the next?

I don’t understand, I can’t understand.

I don’t even feel the tears. I’m too shocked, too numb, too busy trying to convince myself that I’ve misunderstood something.....Maybe Rocco meant something else, maybe Lysander is just unconscious.

There has to be something.

Anything.

Something inside me snaps.

I lift my head and look him dead in the eyes.

"It’s not possible."

My voice is quieter now, but there’s something desperate beneath it.

"He can’t be dead. He was just alive a while ago. I can’t be fucking dead!"

I don’t wait for a response as I push past Rocco and head straight into the room.

"Nerissa!" I hear someone call behind me but I ignore them.

The moment I step inside, I stop dead in my tracks.

Lysander is lying on the treatment table.

Still.....So fucking still. His face is pale, almost colourless, and his dark hair is slightly damp against his forehead. His shirt has been removed, leaving his upper body exposed. There are dressings around his abdomen, and blood stains the sheets beneath him.

There is blood everywhere.....Some of it has dried, while other patches are still disturbingly dark and fresh.

This isn’t Lysander...Not the man I know.

He looks weak, fragile and almost unfamiliar.

I slowly approach the table.

"Lysander?"

Nothing.

I reach for his hand and grasp it, It’s slightly cold.

My fingers close around his, and I stare at them for a moment.

Then it dawns on me that he might actually be dead.

My lips part, but no words come out.

I squeeze his hand tightly.

"Lysander?"

Nothing.

My eyes move to his face.

"Come on. Stop this."

I try to laugh, but it comes out as a broken sound.

"You can’t be serious."

My throat tightens as I lift his hand and press it against my cheek.

That’s when the tears finally come.

They come so suddenly that I can barely breathe. My chest tightens, and the first sob tears through me so hard my chest aches with it.

It feels as though someone has wrapped a tight fist around my heart and is slowly squeezing the life out of me.

Why does it hurt so much? I don’t even like this man, right?

I mean, I can’t stand him half the time. He’s arrogant, controlling, infuriating, and has an irritating habit of believing the entire world should bend to his will.

So why does it feel like I’ve just lost a huge chunk of myself? Why does looking at him like this make me feel as though I can no longer breathe?

I shake my head and bring his hand closer to my chest.

"No, no, no..."

My voice breaks.

"Please."

I grasp his hand with both of mine, and the sobs begin wrecking my entire body. I don’t care how ridiculous I look. I don’t care who’s watching.

I just want him to open his eyes, i want him to say something irritating, i want him to tell me to stop crying, i want to hear him call me his little riot one more time.

Anything.

His hand feels colder against mine and i rub it between my palms, trying to warm it.

"You’re too cold."

I sniff, wiping my cheek with my shoulder.

"You’re not supposed to be cold, Lysander."

I look around the room, almost expecting to find a blanket somewhere.

Then I look back at him and without thinking, I carefully climb onto the edge of the treatment table. His frame is so much larger than mine that I struggle to find a comfortable position, but I don’t care.

I lean over him and wrap my arms around his upper body as best as I can. My cheek rests against his chest and I close my eyes.

Maybe if I stay here long enough, he’ll warm up.

I press my face against him and let the tears fall.

"I’m still angry with you," I whisper.

My voice trembles.

"You hear me? I’m still very fucking angry with you."

I swallow.

"You don’t get to leave me like this."

I remain there, holding him, listening to the silence. My sobs gradually become quieter, but they don’t stop. I feel completely hollow, like there’s nothing left inside me except pain.

Then...

*Thump.*

I freeze my eyes flying open.

Perhaps it was something outside the room.

I lift my head slightly and look around but I don’t see anything.

I glance towards the door, but there’s nobody standing ther so I slowly lower my head again.

*Thump.*

My eyes widen.

I pull back slightly, my cheek still resting against his chest.

Wait.

Is that...?

I hold my breath.

Another second passes.

Then I hear it again.

*Thump.*

My entire body goes rigid.

I lift my head and stare at Lysander’s chest.

No. No fucking way.

I press my ear against him again.

I hear another Thump.

Holy fucking shit.

I scramble off the table so quickly that my foot nearly catches on the edge.

"Rocco!"

My voice comes out louder than I expect.

"ROCCO!!"

I turn towards the door, practically stumbling as I rush towards it.

"I hear a heartbeat!"

I shout again, my voice cracking.

"I HEAR A FUCKING HEARTBEAT!"

The door bursts open almost immediately as Rocco rushes inside, with Fernando right behind him.

"What happened?"

"His heart!" I point towards the table, barely able to get the words out. "I heard it! I heard something!"

Rocco doesn’t waste a second. He hurries to Lysander’s side, checking him immediately. He leans over his chest, then reaches for the stethoscope beside the table and places it over his chest.

Fernando moves closer, his eyes fixed on Rocco.

"Rocco?"

"Give me a moment."

I stand a few feet away, clutching my hands against my chest. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear anything else.

Then he looks up and I stare at him, my heart full of hope.

He looks back at Lysander, then at me.

"You heard correctly."

My lips part.

"He has a heartbeat?"

Rocco nods.

I bring a trembling hand to my mouth. The tears return, but these are different.

They’re tears of relief.

I look at Lysander lying on the table, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to breathe.

He’s still here.

My husband is still here.