Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“Baby, no,” he said, but I smiled when I saw there was now enough room for him to lie down. He shook his head, but I could see the hint of a smile on his lips too.
“Lie down…please.” Cromwell lay on the bed. The doors of my room were shut, and frankly, even if they weren’t I wouldn’t have cared.
Cromwell’s large body felt so perfect next to mine. And for the first time since I’d woken up, I felt warm. I felt safe. Beside Cromwell, I was complete.
“My song,” I managed to whisper, my throat still sore from the ventilator’s tube.
Cromwell laid his head on the pillow beside me. “Your song.” For a brief moment I felt a sense of utter peace. Until I fought to breathe, and I realized I couldn’t keep up the feeling for long.
I leaned closer to Cromwell, using his scent and frame for courage. When I met his eyes, I found him already watching me. I swallowed. “How long?” The minute the question was out, I thought I felt my heart pounding.
Cromwell paled as the words left my mouth. “Baby.” He shook his head. I held his hand tighter.
“Please…I have to know.”
Cromwell shut his eyes. “No more than a week,” he whispered. I’d thought his words would wound me. I’d thought if the answer was only a short amount of time, it would cripple me. Instead, a strange sense of calm beset me. A week…
I nodded my head. Cromwell’s hand this time tightened in mine. It was he who needed the support. Not me. “They’ll get you a heart.” He closed his eyes and kissed my hand. “I know it.”
But I knew different.
It was funny. After years of praying a heart would come, after wish after wish that I would be healed, now I was here. At the end. Days away from my tired heart being unable to beat once more, it felt freeing to just accept it. To stop the prayers. To stop the wishes. And to embrace the time I had left with the people I loved.
I took a deep breath. “You must look after Easton for me.”
Cromwell stilled. He shook his head, fighting where I was taking the conversation. “Don’t, baby. Don’t talk like this.”
“Promise me…” I was breathless, the short request taking so much out of me that I already felt exhausted. Cromwell’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “He is fragile…but he is stronger…than he knows.”
Cromwell’s nose flared. He refused to look at me. I lifted my hand and steered his face toward mine.
“Don’t,” he whispered brokenly. His lashes grew wet with the start of tears. “I can’t…I can’t lose you too.”
I rolled my lips to stop myself from falling apart. “You…you won’t lose me.” I laid my hand on his heart. “Not in here.” Cromwell ducked his head. “Just like your father isn’t gone either.” I believed that now. I believed that when someone is so imbedded in your heart, your soul, they never truly leave.
A strange look passed over Cromwell’s face; then he tucked his head into my neck. I felt the tears pour. So I wrapped my arm around his back and held him close. I stared at the keyboard and violin and knew that he would create music that would change the world. I was as sure of it as I was sure the sun would rise each day. It was the biggest sadness I held. That I wouldn’t be beside him to hear it. To watch him perform at sold-out theaters. To see him on podiums, bringing people to their feet.
When Cromwell raised his head, I whispered, “Promise me… Look after him.”
Cromwell, eyes red and cheeks flushed, nodded his head. A weight I didn’t know I carried lifted from my shoulders. “And compose.” Cromwell stilled. I tapped my hand on his chest. “Don’t lose your passion again.”
“You brought it back to me.”
His words were heaven to my ears. I smiled, and I saw the love in Cromwell’s eyes. “My bag…” His eyebrows pulled down in confusion. “A notebook…in my bag.”
Cromwell found the notebook. He went to hand it to me, but I pushed it back at him. “For you.”
He looked even more confused. I motioned for him to lie back down. He did, settling beside me. “My words…” I said. Realization spread on his face.
“Your songs?”
I nodded. “The one at the end.” Cromwell ran his eyes over the book filled with my thoughts and dreams and wishes. And I just watched him. I realized I could have watched him for an eternity and never grown tired of it.
I knew when he had reached the last page. I saw his eyes raking first over the words, and then the notes. He didn’t say anything, but the shine in his eyes and the words that never came told me enough.