I hold him in my lap like a wounded child while I run my hand across his cheek and try to keep him alert. I stroke the hair from the top of his forehead, and he starts to close his eyes. I feel panic overcome my entire being. I try, but I can no longer hide the fact that my body is trembling, and I am seriously losing my shit. I can barely breathe through my sobbing.
Then he reaches up and places his hand on top of mine, an attempt to soothe me, I’m sure. He’s bleeding to death and he’s worried about me.
“I love you,” he breathes.
“I love you too, baby.”
He smiles another weak smile then looks back toward the ground.
“No! NO! Don’t you fucking leave me, Reid Landry! I just got you back, and you are NOT leaving me!”
I wait. But he doesn’t look up. The sour taste of vomit burns as it rises up my throat and into my mouth. I force it back down and struggle to find my strength. No. Please God. Not him. Not now.
I know what to do, but I’m too afraid of what I’ll find when I do it. So, I wait. Maybe he’s just catching his breath, regaining his energy.
“Reid? Baby, look at me. Please,” I plead. But he doesn’t respond. Somewhere deep down, I knew he wouldn’t, but it didn’t stop me from trying.
One more look. One more time. Let me see your eyes just one more time. Please. Just one more time.
My vision is blurred by my tears, and the lump in my throat burns like fire. I take a deep breath and place a finger on his pulse.
Nothing.
I feel nothing.
The pain rips through me like a thousand bullets, and I die inside. If it were possible for the heart to stop beating but the body to continue to live, that’s what I would be—a shell of a woman, a living breathing being with nothing left inside.
I slide out from underneath Reid and lay him down on the concrete sidewalk where I lie next to him, just the way I did last night, and hundreds of nights before that, with my arms around his body and my head on his chest until the ambulance finally decides to show up.