Page 80 of Capo

I grudgingly admit to myself that she has a point, and I admire that she stands up for herself against me. I know how I come off when I’m not in a good mood, and she’s fucking brave.

Forcing a deep breath, loosening my fists, I nod. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

“You will find Mrs. Wokowska one floor up, take the C corridor and you’ll find her in room three. Please sign in with the nurse first.”

“Thank you,” says Dustin as I stride toward the staircase and take it two steps at a time. The C corridor is quiet. Like death. Some staff stands when I dart past them with Dustin on my heels, but I have tunnel vision as I aim for room three and pull open the door.

The walls are painted a soft green, there’s an armchair and a little table with a lamp on it. The scent of lavender is overwhelming and behind it there are undertones of disease, of antiseptics, of illness and death. In the middle of the room stands a lonely bed with a small figure, too tiny to be human, lying in the middle of it. A woman sits by the bed, her back to us, her shoulders shaking, wracked by sobs. She has long blonde hair and when she turns I recognize her as Rose, one of Elena’s whores. Her face is tear streaked, black smudges on her cheeks, and her eyes widen as she sees me. I push past her toward the bed. It’s too quiet. There’s no movement.

My throat constricts when I see Elena, her eyes closed, her face sunken and her skin wax-like and wrinkle free. It’s not right. I grab her arm and shake her. Her body moves but there’s no reaction. She’s so fucking thin.

“Elena. I’m here. Wake the fuck up!”

No answer. Someone puts their hand on my arm and I slap it away.

“Elena, for fuck’s sake. You aren’t allowed not to answer!”

“Mr. Salvatore. She has passed,” says Rose.

I grip her throat and push her into the wall. “Fuck no!” I scream in her face. Then I drop her and return to Elena. Grabbing her shoulders, I shake her more violently. Her head lolls to the side. No reaction. “No! Fuck! Tell her to wake the fuck up!”

Rose has remained by the wall, her hand on her throat, her eyes fill up with new tears. “She’s dead! Don’t you understand? Leave her alone. You’re violating her! Let her have her peace. She finally has peace. Don’t you see? She was in so much pain, Mr. Salvatore. So much pain. She fought so hard. She’s in a better place!”

I pull Elena into my arms and rock her body with mine, a hoarse wail, a primal sound I’ve never heard before escaping me. She’s so thin. When did she become so thin? Why didn’t I see this? Why didn’t I—

“Why didn’t I fucking know this?” I roar to Rose.

“She—she explicitly told us never to tell you. She said you had too much on your mind and that she didn’t want you to worry about her.”

“How long?” I rasp. “How long did she know?”

“I don’t know, sir,” she whispers. “She only told us a few weeks ago.” She averts her gaze, floods of fresh tears falling along her cheeks.

“Fuck!” I roar. So much time wasted. I could have cared for her. She worked her ass off for me until her last few days. I scream, wordlessly, and shove the drip rack to the side so it falls to the floor and rips the cord out of her arm. There’s no blood. No fucking blood! It hammers yet another nail into my heart, hammers home the message. Her heart is still. She isn’t here anymore. She’s not around and won’t be ever again. She’s been my rock, my friend, my only source of comfort my whole adult life. I knew no tenderness before I met her and now it’s all gone.

“Why did you abandon me?” I scream and shove the contents off the side table next to the bed. Syringes, pills and tissues go flying to the floor. “You’re not allowed! Why?”

“Sir.”

Someone speaks behind my back. A hand on my shoulder.

“Get the fuck off me!” I grab the hand and twist it, making the person yelp and pull away. Covering Elena’s frail little body with mine, I try to give her some of my warmth, my air, my beating heart. “CPR! Why isn’t anyone giving her CPR?” I shoot to my feet and start compressing her chest, try to blow air into her mouth, but there’s a sickening resistance and her chest won’t rise.

“Sir!” says the voice I don’t know.

“Salvatore. Please! Please leave her alone,” Rose’s broken voice to my right. “She drew her last breath ten minutes ago. It’s no use. She was in pain. The cancer was everywhere. She was done. She was happy that the end was near. The last three days she’s been in a coma. Leave her alone, please.”

I fall, my ear to Elena’s chest. There’s no thumping. All I hear is the high-pitched ringing in my own head. “Why didn’t someone tell me?”

“I told them to call you,” says Rose quietly. “She wouldn’t have wanted me to, but I had to let you know, let you get here in time for a goodbye—” Her voice breaks. “But it was too late. I’m so sorry.”

“Leave me alone,” I say. “Please.”

“Sir,” says Dustin.

“Go!” I roar. “All of you. Get the fuck out. Leave me alone!”

I close my eyes and remain with my head resting on Elena’s still chest. Behind me there’s a shuffle of feet and the whisper of the door falling closed. Elena’s voice haunts me. Her wise words, always level-headed, always composed. She never wanted to be a victim. Not even the day, all those years ago, when my sadistic ways finally broke her, when she professed her love for me and begged me to let her be my equal, my woman, and I told her no. I told her that all she was to me was a set of holes and flesh for me to use. It crushed her, and still she wanted to stay, not as a lover, but as something, still she wanted to remain in my life, so I employed her. I will never know if the friendship I’ve felt was mutual, or if she just put up with me to please me.

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