Page 97 of Lassoed Love

I laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the corridor. “Understand what, Isla? If I leave, then what?” She can’t be that blind—she can’t be that blind to not understand my feelings for her. Does it have to be spelled out?

“You’re shutting me out for what? For what fucking reason?” My voice now a tad bit raised. Imogen, sensing the tension, steps forward cautiously. “Guys, maybe it’s best if—”

I cut her off. “You’ll get your space, Isla, but I’m staying right outside that door,” I declare, crossing my arms defiantly. “I’m not abandoning you.”

“Xav, I just think we should take a break,” Isla says, her voice trembling.

“A break? From fucking what?” I question, searching her eyes, my jawclenching.

“Us. This... whatever it is between us,” she replies, her gaze avoiding mine.

Anger flares within me. “But why? Why do you keep saying that?”

“It’s not about you, Xavier. It’s about me and sorting out my priorities right now.”

“Bullshit,” I retort, frustration evident in my voice. “I’ve beenhereforyou, supportingyou, and now you just want to throw everything away?”

“It’s not that simple,” she insists, tears welling in her eyes.

“Then, make it simple, Isla,” I retort. “Don’t shut me out like this. We can get through this together.” I’m left standing there in silence—shock and hurt no doubt evident in my expression.

Her lips tremble—her eyes watering, as she stands there with her arms wrapped around her midsection. Unbelievable.

“Okay,” I mumble, nodding once. Her silence is the only answer I need to understand what she wants. Complete and utter disbelief surges within me. Why is she doing this?

I raise my hands in surrender. “I’ll go. If that’s what you really want, Isla, I’ll leave. I’m gone.” I mutter, my words laced with complete sympathy for her.

With that, I take one last lingering gaze at Isla, and I turn to leave. Her choked sobs echo through the walls, and I briefly hear Imogen’s voice soothing her. While walking down the corridor, I spot my brother, Bradley, leaning against the wall.

As I approach, ready to continue my exit, Bradley puts a hand on my shoulder, attempting to form words. “Xav,I—” but I cut him off with a stern “Don’t.” That’s all I offer as I stride towards the lift, desperate to leave this suffocating place behind.

As I enter the lift, it’s a painful departure from the only thing in my life that gave me purpose, the light in my shitty, lonely world I’d succumbed to over the years.

The weight of the realisation hits me like a tonne of bricks—Isla is the one person, after all these years, I actually thought I could spend the rest of my life with, like she wasmadefor me.

And here I am, leaving behind the one person who felt like home.

With every step as I exit the hospital, I let her slip away, and the echoes of what we could’ve had linger with each heartbeat.

38

Breathe - Taylor Swift, Colbie Caillat

Iwake up to the light seeping through the hospital blinds, the exhaustion of the previous night clinging to me like a heavy fog. The nurses had kindly allowed me to stay the night, and I opted to sleep in the small lounge in the room. The couch, though far from comfortable, served as my makeshift bed.

Sleep eluded me as I tossed and turned on the cramped sofa. Every few minutes, I found myself getting up to check on my father, the rhythmic sounds of the machines providing a haunting backdrop. The weight of the night, the worry for my father, and the unfamiliar surroundings contributed to my restlessness.

Imogen, sensing my fatigue, returned in the morning and insisted that she would keep watch over my father. Reluctantly, I allowed myself a few hours of sleep, knowing that Imogen was there, a reassuring presence in the room. Despite the small reprieve, the exhaustion clung to me like a second skin as I faced another day in these small confines of the hospital room.

As I rouse from my fitful sleep, the hospital room comes into focus. Imogen sits by my father’s bedside, her presence a source ofcomfort. I quietly get up from the small lounge, my body protesting against the awkward sleeping position.

Imogen looks up, concern etched on her face. “Hey,” she says with a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

I manage a small, tired smile. “Not great,” I mutter, wiping at my sleepy eyes. “Thanks for taking over.”

Imogen nods, her gaze shifting to my father. “The nurses did their rounds a while ago, and everything seems okay for now. One of them said she’d be back to check his fluids.”

Imogen glances at her phone and then back at me. “I’ve reached out to Claire. She’s catching the next available flight and will be here as soon as possible.”