Page 1
HALLIE
Song – Levitate, Sleep Token
T he doors to the operating room explode open, and my heart shoots into my throat. One look into Finn’s pale gray eyes and I already know, the second he opens his mouth, the ground will split beneath me.
He doesn’t need to speak. Just a subtle shake of his head. Eyes full of pity.
The sob rips out of me before I can stop it, sharp and strangled. I suck in a breath that goes nowhere, my chest collapsing inward as if something vital’s been torn from it.
I drop to my knees. The floor meets me hard, but I barely feel it. Everything around me blurs as my sobs unravel into wild, choking cries.
“I’m so sorry, Hallie. They tried everything,” Finn whispers beside me.
I swat the words away like they burn. I don’t want them. Don’t need them. This can’t be real.
I bury my face in my hands and let the grief break me open, wide and raw. I see flashes behind my eyelids—me as a little girl in the garage, fingers greasy from helping him with his cars, his laughter echoing around us.
All the times he held my hand when life felt too big, too brutal.
His voice right before surgery, still strong, still him.
“If this is the last time, I need you to know I’m so proud of you, Hallie. I love you so much. Always remember that. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, I promise.”
My dad’s final words to me.
I’d kissed his cheek and told him to stop being so dramatic and that I’d be right here when he woke up.
I was wrong.
He’s not waking up. He’s not coming back. And now, I’m alone.
I don’t know how long I stay there, folded in on myself like I’m broken. Finn sits beside me in the silence, his hand rubbing soft circles into my back like he can hold me together.
“Come on, let me get you home, Hallie.”
He has to lift me off the floor—my body too heavy, too hollow—and carry me to his Mercedes. The drive home is wrapped in silence. I can’t even see through the tears.
When he pulls up outside the house, I force in a shaky breath.
“Is there someone I can call to be with you? I know how tough this is. But I promise, it will get easier.”
I shake my head. No. I don’t want anyone. Not now. Not even my best friend, Lily. I just want the dark. I want my bed and my dog, Bertie. I want to curl up and cry until nothing’s left.
“I’ll be fine,” I croak.
The second I open the car door, Finn’s there beside me.
“Let’s have a coffee. I can’t leave you like this.”
I nod, just once, it’s all I can manage. He follows me inside.
My father is everywhere. His face on the walls. His scent in the air. His soul in every corner.
“Go sit down, I’ll make the drinks.”
I move through the space like a ghost. My legs barely hold me. I collapse into the sofa and tuck my knees in, facing away from the photos. Just one glance at his smile and I feel like vomiting.
Finn returns and hands me the coffee, taking a seat on the opposite sofa. Quiet. Always so quiet. That’s how he is at work, disciplined and controlled. I’ve watched him over the last year. Learned from him.
He’s the youngest heart surgeon the hospital has ever had, and he’s still the best in his field. Respected by everyone, even when he’s covered from neck to toe in tattoos.
“You don’t have to stay, Dr. Quinn.”
He raises a brow.
“I lost both my parents not so long ago. Although it feels like yesterday. My brother, Conan, struggled with my mother’s death. And the pain I just felt from you, is the same I did with him. So, I want to make sure you’re okay.”
For the first time since I walked out of that hospital, something cuts through the numbness.
“You have brothers?”
He nods.
“Two. Declan and Conan.” His Irish accent is warm and low, a strange kind of comfort.
“Oh, cool. I always wished I had siblings.”
My voice cracks around the confession. My mom and dad split when I was six. I moved here with Dad and never looked back. I didn’t need a relationship with my mom when I had him.
“Trust me, it can be awfully testing at times. Especially the youngest one. Conan is always trying to wind me into a frenzy with his antics.”
He sighs, but there’s affection buried in it.
I like the sound of this Conan.
“But, I love them to fucking death.”
A laugh slips out of me. Finn smiles.
“What made you want to become a nurse?” he asks, settling in with his coffee, his foot resting on one knee.
“My dad got sick for the first time when I was a teenager. We were in and out of hospitals, and I don’t know, it just felt like my calling. I wasn’t sure I was cut out for… what you do. So I decided to be a nurse. I wanted to help people, I guess.”
I’m too chaotic to be a surgeon.
He leans forward, places his cup on the table.
“It’s going to be okay. You know that, right? You are more than capable of doing anything you want.”
The words are sharp but kind, stern enough to make me sit up straighter.
“That’s what Dad used to tell me.” The tears rush back. I can barely keep them in.
“Look, take some time off work, as long as you need; I’ll cover it. You need to heal and find the thing that makes you happy in life. You need a break.”
I twist the rings on my fingers, eyes locked on my lap.
“You’ve nearly worked yourself to death recently, Hallie. You might think I don’t notice, but I do. You deserve a break.”
I can’t look at him. He’s still my boss. Dr. Quinn. Cold, calculated, and terrifying. But tonight, there’s something softer about him, something human.
“Is that what your brother did?”
He shakes his head slowly.
“No. He went into self-destruction, Hallie. That’s why I want you to do the opposite.”
The lump in my throat threatens to suffocate me.
“Okay. I think I know what I’ll do.”
He straightens his tie, lips curving.
“Let yourself grieve and then find happiness.”
I sink back into the cushions, a little lighter somehow.
“You’re not a bad boss, you know that, right?” I say, then pause. “And friend.”
He chuckles, running his hand through his dark brown hair, slicking it back.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone that. I reserve being nice for family and friends. No one else.”
I believe him.
“Your secrets are safe with me. Now, would you like a wine? I need something stronger than coffee.”
Yes. God, yes. I want to forget today ever happened. And Finn is right. I don’t want to be alone.
After a glass of Dad’s finest red, Finn leaves. I find myself in his bed, cocooned in the blankets that still smell like my dad. I press my face into the pillow and cry like I’m drowning.
Tears fall until I’ve got nothing left. Until my skull aches and my throat’s raw.
This house, it was never just a house. It was our home. Because he was here.
He was my constant. My compass. My everything.
And now it’s just walls and silence.
All I have left are the memories. And a garage with the cars we spent our lives fixing together.
Maybe that’s where I’ll find him again.
Maybe that’s where I’ll start to heal.
Maybe that’s where I’ll find a little piece of happy.
For both of us.
Table of Contents
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