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Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series)
Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series) Read online
Losing Love
Laura Ashley Gallagher
Gala & Co Publishing
Copyright © 2021 Laura Ashley Gallagher
First published in 2021
Copyright © 2021 Laura Ashley Gallagher
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without the prior permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-3999-0556-5
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For my mother,
Thank you for showing me that the love between a mother and daughter is forever and for always.
Part One
Lost
Prologue
“Hey, baby. I’m guessing you’re getting ready, which is why you left your man to go straight to voicemail. I’m joking. I can’t wait to see you. Sorry, I’m running a little late. I got caught up at practice with Garry. I’ll be at your house in fifteen minutes. Missed you this week. The movie starts at eight, so we have time to grab something to eat first. There’s a jerk in a car in front of me, swerving everywhere. What the hell is he doing? I think he might be drunk, so I better hang up. Love you. Oh, before I go. I totally forgot to tell you…”
Chapter One
Six Years Ago - Then
I had everything I wanted.
I had him, and our life was on the right path.
Until it wasn’t anymore.
Why him? Why did it have to be him?
I asked myself that so often; it felt like my chest was going to explode.
What did I expect?
For weeks, I sat there watching him wither away. I was the definition of helpless.
His muscular frame had shrunk, the sparkle in his brown eyes diminished, and his once-booming voice was weak. What was most worrying—he had no eagerness for life. Not anymore. He left his fight in the car that night, or it flew from his body and through the windscreen just like his head.
I swallowed back the bile in my throat.
But I could get him back. He was in there somewhere. I refused to lose hope when I searched his face and couldn’t find the man who used to hold me with so much heat I could melt.
We’d work hard and get everything back because together, we could conquer anything. I needed him to get healthy again. The hope would return to his eyes, I’m sure of it.
Only three weeks before, I thought I’d lost him. He was so badly injured, his face was unrecognizable, and it took me hours to accept it was him.
When I noticed I missed his phone call, I checked my voicemail, and at once knew something was wrong. Every nerve in my body stung with an icy chill, and my legs were running out the door before I could even comprehend what I was doing.
Five minutes away from my house, the ambulance was already on the scene, dragging his lifeless body onto a stretcher. I never felt fear like it, as if all the heat left my body, and my blood had turned to water. I screamed when they forced me back, kicking and screaming as a firefighter yanked me around the waist. They had to cut him from the car and wouldn’t allow anyone to ride with him to the hospital. I didn’t want him to die alone.
I hadn’t told him I loved him that day.
After his surgery, he laid in the intensive care unit in an induced coma. No one gave much hope for his outcome. And if he did wake, doctors weren’t sure in what state.
A week later, his tubes were removed, and they brought him round. My body functioned on fear and anticipation. Fear won in the end when he woke with voiceless screams.
After, he laid there, staring into the abyss with his mind in torment. He remembered nothing about that night. From what police gathered, he was correct about the drunk driver. The man in front had steered onto the other side of the road, driving directly into a passing truck, and Nick’s car was hit with the brunt force of both vehicles. It was a miracle he made it out alive.
I smoothed my hand over his forehead and adjusted his oxygen tube.
“Do you need anything?” I whispered.
He said nothing and simply nodded. His eyes never left the white tiles of the ceiling. Waves of frustration, anger, and helplessness washed over his gaze all at once. He was twenty years old. He loved sports, hiking, and swimming. But he couldn’t walk anymore. They said he would, but he would have to learn again, and he’d never get his full strength back.
Most of the time, he dipped in and out of consciousness. Tiredness overrode everything else his body commanded of him. Each time, before he dozed off, he murmured, “Mandy, I forgot to tell you something.” As if sleep brought him back to the moment before the crash. His last words to me before he welcomed blackness.
It plagued me, gnawing slowly in the back of my mind. But he never remembered when he woke.
His neck cracked painfully as he turned his head. Pale eyes locked with mine, and he enchanted me completely. When he looked at me, life left only the two of us, and everything in the room faded away. The thought of no longer having him pained me deeply and battered my body from the inside out.
“What is it?” he asked, noticing how I was looking at him. His words cut short as each painful breath escaped from his chapped lips.
I shook my head. “Nothing,” I replied softly.
I didn’t want to tell him my life would be unbearable without him. I wanted to grab him by the arms and shake him. Beg him not to give up. I wanted him to fight for himself. For me. For us.
His lifeless body clung to the hospital bed so much I thought I might be able to peel him off. He was so weak, blinking came as a struggle, and he was so different from the Nick he once was.
He fought so hard to come through it. But he seemed too tired to go on hoping everything would work out okay.
His lack of hope scared me the most.
“I wish I could make you happy again,” he mumbled, rubbing his thumb across the flesh of my palm.
His lips trembled, and I fixed the blanket, but I didn’t think he was cold.
Inhaling deeply, I wiped the strands of hair from my face with my free hand.
“You always make me happy. Every day,” I said as I kissed his hand. “You are everything to me. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”
The way he looked at me made my heart tighten and misty tears burned my eyes.
Was I asking too much by expecting him to continue fighting this horrible battle? I wasn’t stupid. I could see his fight sourly turning into a struggle.
With that, there was a light tap on the door, and I quickly brushed away the tears threatening to fall.
“Am I interrupting?” His mother’s slim figure stood against the door frame.
I admired her so much. Even then, when her son was sick, she dressed so elegantly. I’m sure it was for Nick’s sake. She didn’t want him to know how hard it was for her. Unfortunately, the dark circles around her eyes betrayed her efforts.
“Of course not, Kate,” I answered.
Stepping into the room, her heels clicked against the tiles. She kissed her son and sat on the edge of the bed.
“You can go home, babe. You’ve been here all day.”
I checked my watch, surprised at how fast the time had gone. My time at the hospital usually passed at a snail’s pace.
I tried to object, but a yawn cracked through my cheeks and my eyes watered.
“Go home,” he warned, squeezing my hand. “Get some sleep.”
“N
ick, I’m fine.”
But I knew he wouldn’t give up.
“Mandy, I love you but go home. Please.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, swallowing the fearful lump growing in my throat. I hated leaving him. Anything could happen.
Though I needed a shower.
He raised his hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I’m sure babe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Standing from the chair, I could feel my legs throbbing as the blood rushed through my veins. I leaned over and kissed him, hugging his mother before heading for the door.
“I love you,” he called after me.
I winked, tapping on the door frame. “I love you too.”
It took all my power not to fall asleep at the wheel. I parked in front of my house, almost bumping into the back of my mother’s car. I was beyond relieved when my father opened the door before I could root through my bag for my keys.
“Hey sweetheart,” he chimed with a bright smile.
I love my dad, but I couldn’t find the energy to talk to him. I could hardly keep my eyes from closing.
“Hey Dad,” is all I managed. Any conversation with my father would have to wait. All I wanted was a hot shower and my bed.
But even the shower could wait until morning.
I almost drifted off to sleep in my struggle upstairs.
“Ouch,” I groaned with a loud thud, snapping out of my daze after my toe clipped the edge of the top step and I plunged to my knees. “Ugh. Why am I so clumsy?”
In my bedroom, I kicked off my shoes and flopped belly first on the bed.
The streetlight from outside shone on my face, reflecting on my skin. It was then, as the streetlights dimmed, I heard light knocks on the door.
I didn’t bother to move. “Come in.”
My bed dipped when my older brother, Matt, sat on the edge. He took some time off from college for a few weeks to be with me while dealing with Nick. My mother worried I wouldn’t open up to anyone but my brother. She was right. I talked to Matt about everything. But with this, I couldn’t. I preferred to deal with things myself, in my own way, and that meant keeping things inside until I got home at night. Then I’d cry until I tired myself out.
Matt was good to me, though. He never pushed me to talk. He often sat with me until my tears dried, or I went to sleep without saying a word.
My brother knew me better than I knew myself, which is why I loved him so much.
He was about to switch on my bedroom lamp when I caught his hand.
“Don’t you dare. You’ll be wearing the lampshade,” I warned him, but he only smiled at me. Even in the darkness, I saw his smile turn sorrowful. He was going to ask about Nick.
“He’s fine.” I yawned before he said anything.
“I was going to ask how you are?”
“Tired,” I retorted.
“Sorry, sis.” He attempted to stand, but I pressed down on his thigh.
I needed to stop being such a bitch.
“It’s okay. I’m doing fine.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m worried about you. You’re spending every minute at the hospital. You love him. I know, but it can’t be good for you. You’ll get sick because you’re not eating or sleeping.”
I wanted to remind him I was about to sleep until he came in, but I bit the inside of my cheek.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not, Mandy. And Nick hates seeing you wear yourself out. Just ease off on yourself. If not for me, for Nick.”
But I wanted to do things for him. He was almost stolen from me.
“I’m doing it to make him happy. I was so close to losing him. And losing him means I lose everything, Matt.”
“I know.” He smoothed the curls of my caramel hair. “But Nick needs you and only you. He appreciates everything you do, but he only wants you.” He stayed silent for a long second. “Do me a favour. Go back to college on Monday. You haven’t been there since the accident. Occupy yourself with something other than the hospital.”
I knew he was right. If I wanted to get into my final year of university with Nick, I would have to focus more on my assignments.
The thoughts of going back there made my blood run cold. Eyes of sympathy and pity would follow me everywhere. I didn’t want their stupid pity. I wanted a normal life. I wanted to go back in time and tell him not to get in his car that night. We didn’t need to go on a date, but I insisted we spend more time together.
Guilt rose inside me, and tears stung my eyes.
“Fine. I’ll go back. But I swear, if one person looks at me like my world is about to fall apart, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
He chuckles. “We will stand by you in the courtroom.”
“You better. Now, can I please get some sleep?”
The light from outside disappeared as he closed my curtains.
“Night, sis,” I heard him say. He sounded miles away. I already succumbed to a darkness of my own—my sleep.
Chapter Two
Then
Returning to university was the nightmare I thought it would be. Glares from across the hall and pitiful glances as I walked through the corridors. The campus was big, but not big enough for the anonymity I needed.
The student union organized a candlelight vigil the night after the accident. I appreciated the sentiment, and I also hated it. Why was everyone acting like he was dead?
Some looked disgusted as I glanced around the halls, and I knew what they were thinking. They wanted to know why I wasn’t at the hospital, nursing my ill boyfriend back to health. But nothing they were thinking was as bad as what was in my head. I punished myself every minute I was there because I should have been with him. But if I wanted him to have hope, then I needed to have some too. I needed to show him that life would be normal when he got home. We could do it together.
The only people to treat me with a semblance of normality were my close friends. I gave them a stiff warning before they walked with me to class.
“Don’t even think about it. I know you think I’m the biggest bitch to walk the planet, but I’m here against my will.”
Their eyes narrowed in confusion.
“We don’t think you’re a bitch, Mandy. We’re proud of you,” my friend Claire assured, pursing her red glossed lips.
“We think it’s great you’re here. You were spending too much time at the hospital. Nick was sick of looking at your face,” Garry said, rubbing my hand and tugging at me to walk with them.
“Gee, thanks.”
I attempted to turn back on my way, but they dragged me along.
“Guys, I can’t stand this. I should go home.”
“You don’t have a hope, Mandy Parker. I’m not opposed to throwing you over my shoulder. We’ll be by your side the entire way.” Garry smirked ruefully.
It was times like that I wished I was a loner with no friends; someone nobody knew. Getting attention was fine with me, providing it was for the right reasons. Sympathy has always been my worst nightmare. The tilt of people’s heads as they spoke to me like I brought a puppy to class.
I grunted loudly for extra measure, but I knew all of this was for Nick. He deserved this, and so much more.
Inhaling a calming breath, I focused on keeping my eyes trained on the ground. If I couldn’t see the sympathy, it wasn’t there.
Claire caught my hand before I had the chance to walk further. I raised my head to meet her eyes. Deep blue orbs glazing and the small dent on her chin wobbled. She was holding back tears, and I hated it. I reached out, stroking my palms along her upper arms in my best attempt to bring her heat and comfort. My friends felt this as much as I did. We’d been together since we were four.
“He’s going to be fine,” I reassured her, wishing my voice sounded more confident.
She swallowed, biting on her red lip. “I know,” she choked.
“And I’ll be fine, too. I have Garry with me today.”
Claire studied social c
are, while Garry and I both had ambitions of becoming teachers. None of our classes crossed paths and I could see it scared her to leave me alone. Or maybe she was the one afraid to be alone. I pulled her into a tight hug, holding her against me as her shoulders rattled.
“I love you. I know it’s hard, but we will get through this. Before we know it, Nick will walk these corridors with us again.”
I was making promises I didn’t know I could keep, but she needed it. And to be honest, I did too. Because I didn’t know where Nick would be the next day, let alone in a year. Would he walk again? If he couldn’t, how would he cope?
All I knew: there were many bridges to cross.
She leaned away from me, wiping the fresh moisture from her cheeks before hugging Garry.
“Look after her,” I heard her whisper before she ran her fingers through her long, mocha-coloured hair and turned to walk to her class.
My eyes followed her, and I wished I could have run after her and brought her with me. Maybe she’d enjoy teaching.
Garry threw a hand across my shoulder, gently kissing my temple. “Ready?”
“No. But let’s get this over with.” I shrugged, wrapping my hand around his waist.
I was grateful for his support because my legs felt weak. We needed each other. Nick was his best friend, and he was with him ten minutes before the accident.
“Garry?” I said, looking up at him. I had to ask because I needed the jumbled thoughts to settle. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. “Do you know what Nick needed to tell me? Did he say anything to you at practice before he left?”
His eyes roamed around the halls, searching in his mind for an answer before he lifted his shoulders and his mouth turned down. “Sorry. He said nothing to me. I’m sure he’ll tell you.”
“Maybe.”
I kept my eyes on the floor, tracing the pattern of the red tiles all the way to our early education class.