Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Voices.
Questions that I can’t answer.
Finally, after what feels like days, although it’s only been a couple of hours, I’m led into Justin’s room. He’s already in a room? How long have we been here?
Everything is a blur.
And through his window, I can see the rain still coming down.
“You need to say goodbye, Jules.”
My eyes move to the kind doctor standing next to me. Her arm is around my shoulders. I feel cold. I hate the smell in here.
“But before you do that,” she continues, “do you know if your husband is an organ donor?”
Something about that doesn’t feel right.
“Uh, why would you want a cancer patient’s organs?” I ask her, frowning in confusion. “Can they even donate?”
The doctor shakes her head in confusion. “Jules, Justin doesn’t have cancer.”
“Yes, he does. He gets treatment at this hospital. Check his records.”
“I looked through all his medical records. He had his tonsils out here as a child, and a broken arm when he was sixteen, but I assure you, your husband was a very healthy man before the accident.”
I stare at her. Swallow. My jaw drops, but no sound comes out.
“There was never any cancer?”
She shakes her head slowly. “No.”
I look back at the man lying in the bed. He’s completely still, his face swollen and broken. They had to shave his head because of the injuries there. His hands are on top of the covers. Tubes are breathing for him. I know he’s brain-dead and is never going to wake up.
There was never any cancer.
He tricked me into marrying him, just so he could treat me like shit for EIGHT MOTHERFUCKING YEARS.
“Jules—”
“Can I give consent for organ donation if he isn’t able to?”
“Yes, you can do that.”
“Take everything.” I don’t look away from him. I speak to her while keeping my eyes pinned to this piece of garbage in this bed. “Take whatever you need. Organs, eyes, skin. Take it all. His life should bring some good to someone.”
“Are you sure? That doesn’t leave—”
“I’m sure.” I swallow hard, feeling hollow.
He lied about everything.
He was never going to kill himself.
He was never sick.
I lost everything because of him.
“Does he have parents or siblings?” she asks. “Anyone else who would want to come and say goodbye?”
“No.” He has no one. Just me. And he wasn’t going to have me for much longer. “I’ll sign whatever you need me to sign.”
She nods at someone who’s standing outside the room, and they bustle in, showing me where to sign the forms.
“The sooner we’re able to har—retrieve the donation—”
“You can take him after I have just one minute alone with him.”
She nods and offers me a sympathetic smile. “Take your time, Jules.”
I cross over and bend so my mouth is near his ear.
“I hope you can hear me, wherever you are. I never loved you the way you wanted me to. You stole everything from me. I thought you were my friend, but it turns out you were nothing. I hope you burn in hell.”
With that, I stand and walk out of the room.
Chapter Twenty-Six
BROOKS
All I can think about is the fact that my wife is at home, doing normal everyday things, and I can’t be there with her because I’m at work.
Yeah, I’m a sap. But fuck, I lived without Juliet for fifteen years, and now that I have her back, nothing is better than being with her, even if it’s just to watch her read, or if we’re cleaning the house together.
Normal shit is sexy on my girl.
I love that she’s taking the rest of the day off for herself. Jules is as dedicated to her business as I am to mine, and she puts in long fucking hours. Her work ethic is one of the things that I’ve grown to respect and appreciate the most.
But today, she’s at home, and I’m stuck at work. Normally, I look forward to being at the garage with the guys, but not today.
“Why are you glaring at that manifold?” Gabe asks me.
“I’m going home.”
His eyebrows climb in surprise. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. I just need to go home. There’s nothing here that can’t wait for tomorrow.”
“I’ve got things here,” Gabe agrees. “I’ll see you later. Let me know if you need anything.”
I nod, wash my hands, and then check the time. It’s late afternoon now and rainy outside. The perfect time to strip my wife down and bury myself inside her.
With that goal in mind, I drive home. The storm is a doozy, with thunder and lightning and a shit ton of rain, so I drive slower than normal.
When I walk through the back door, I take a deep breath and grin. I missed Juliet’s candles. She used to burn this same one all the time when we were younger, and it seems that hasn’t changed. It smells … clean. I have no idea what it’s called, but it’s so her.