Page 83 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

She stands from where she was crouched down and takes the card. “I will.”

“Okay,” I say, moving closer to Emma to wheel her out.

As soon as Becks vacates the room, Emma turns to me.

“Thank you, Alex.” She places a hand over mine that’s wrapped around the chair’s handle. Fucking hate the feeling that engulfs me. It’s guilt and shame, regret and self-loathing all rolled into one.

Kicking away the parking brake, I finally say, “Let’s go home, Em.”

In the rearview, I watch her sleep. Her head is in Blanks’s lap, his hand stroking idly through her hair, and the uncomfortable feeling returns. My mouth feels hot, and there’s this tingling skirting up my spine.

My fingers wrap tighter around the steering wheel as I try to pinpoint what I don’t like. The way he calls her Angel? Was it that he seemed to know within fifteen seconds what Em needed when I’d been there for six weeks? Is it paranoia? Jealousy over their familiarity?

Jealous about what specifically, though?

I should’ve been the one to pick her up off the hospital floor. I should have been with her in the backseat. There are all theseshould-haves, but I can’t wrap my mind around thewhy-nots.

Jess.

The text messages she sent sat unanswered. I left her on read for six weeks, too. She finally gave up and was moving on for good now.

While Emma was lying in the hospital bed, I grappled. I debated. And in the end, I made the choice to let Jess go. It isn’t a mountain easily moved, but I need to do it.

“I’d appreciate if you were slightly less hands-onwith my wife.”My wife.I feel like a fucking fraud saying it after everything I’ve done.

Blanks’s hand stills in her hair, then he looks at my reflection.

“Just making sure she’s comfortable. I didn’t see you exactly jumping into action to do the same.” It’s accusatory. That I hurt her. Like he has a sixth-fucking-sense about it.

“Say what you’re actually trying to say?” My eyes narrow at him through the mirror, and my jaw tenses.

“You should let her go,” he says back firmly. “She shouldn’t have almost died in your car. She shouldn’t be here right now. She-” He stops to scoff, “She deserves a hell of a lot better than an existence with you.”

A fucking dagger to the heart.

All Emma ever did was bring me light, joy, and a reason to keep living. And all I’ve given her is pain, a near-death experience, and a broken heart, regardless of whether she can remember it or not. She sacrificed her life for mine, it seemed.

And Blanks is right. My throat turns viciously tight. My body tenses with knowing.

I don’t want to abandon her, and I won’t, but she deserves a lot more than a life beside me.

I look back at where Emma’s fragile body is laid out in the backseat. Any trace of a smile is vacant from her face as she sleeps. Her skin has leached all its color and turned alabaster. With her hair just as light, she looks like an actual angel. Perfect. And pure. And it hurts seeing her. It hurts knowing I did this. Knowing we would have to relive it all someday. That I would have to tell her.

I don’t want to stop being with Emma or give her up. I meant what I said in the truck that day. And every day since, I’ve thought it to some degree, but all the signs point to me needing to step away.

Well, being away is something I do best.

I push the instinct to care for her down. I try to disregard the happy memories, the places that mean something to us, the moments that changed me, all the times she held me. And I mentally prepare that from this moment on, Emma is no longer mine. She deserved more.

Opening the door for Blanks, who carries Emma, I direct him to the first-floor suite. Emma’s old room.

I help move the covers, pushing the extra pillows away, and Blanks deposits her. I step back and watch as he covers her, adding an extra blanket. And I keep taking steps back, silently, knowing I’m already closing the door. I step out into the hall and pace while I wait. Once Blanks is there, I give him a quick head nod.

“Can you sleep on the couch? Or nearby?” It pains me to ask. “In case she needs anything or wakes up in the middle of the night?”

“You’re not sleeping in there with her?” he asks, surprised.

I swallow the bad feelings and shake my head.