Page 99 of The Fall

“Always…Can I touch you?”

“You don’t even have to ask.” He took my lips gently and made love to me slowly. When we had both let go and were tangled in the sheets an hour later, I crossed my hands on his chest and put my chin on them.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, running his fingers through my hair.

“I don’t want to waste any more time.”

He stopped his hand, cupped the back of my head, and leaned in with his reply. “Agreed, you will hear no complaints from me.”

“I love you.”

“You should. I’m awesome.” We both chuckled as I rolled my eyes.

“Watch it, vag man. There is a neurosurgeon who has been asking me out for years.”

He lifted a brow as his lips turned up with a sexy smirk. “Oh, Dallas,” he murmured, running his hand up my thigh, making me gasp as his skilled fingers reached my clit. “Always trying to bring out the angry Spaniard in me. When will you learn?”

My answering grin told him not to hold his breath.

“Dallas, I’m tired.” I looked at Beatrice, now a withering shell of the woman I once knew. Her hair was wrapped in a beautiful yellow silk scarf, and she wore a matching robe. Her typically beautiful caramel skin looked painfully dry, and I couldn’t help but cringe at what looked to be the painful bruising on her arms from needles.

“You know I won’t give up on you,” I said, reviewing her labs on my tablet, trying my best not to let the slow burn of defeat show on my features. We were losing—and we both knew it.

“I want to eat a good meal without tossing it up.” She had lost an enormous amount of weight in the three months we’d been battling her condition. She was no longer the vivacious curvy woman I had fallen in love with two years ago when I started my residency. The sickness had taken its toll on her, and it was a hard pill to swallow.

“You’re whining,” I scorned, rounding her bed and bringing her another pillow from my abundant collection at home. We had done everything I could possibly think of, but I couldn’t save her. She was running out of time, and I didn’t want to put her through more. I’d decided this morning before coming in to make the time she had left enjoyable and much less painful. But, seeing her in the hospital bed today withering away had somehow renewed the fight in me. I didn’t want to lose her.

“You can’t fix me, Dallas. It’s time.” She pulled my tablet out of my hands as I pulled it up to resume my needless search. I instantly felt bared without it to hide behind.

“I wasn’t going to put you through any more,” I said shakily. I quickly spoke up, masking my failing confidence. “I can bring in Nichols, get a fresh set of eyes. There are things we can still do.”

“Dallas,” she said softly.

“Damn it,” I said, avoiding her soft look. “Don’t console me, Beatrice. I’m not the one in bed dying.”

“Can’t help it, baby.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, finally meeting her eyes.

“Dallas, you did enough. You did everything you could.”

I nodded, pressing my lips into a thin line as I tried to hide my devastation.

“You’re going to be just fine,” she said as if reading my mind. I grabbed her hand. I had no idea how I was going to live without her. She had become a staple to my routine, an important part of my everyday life, and even as she lay there dying, I was selfishly concerned about how I would deal with the loss of her.

“How am I supposed to do this without you? Who is going to keep me in line?”

She pulled up the quilt my mom had just stitched for her, then shook her head. “I’m glad you’ll miss me. I want you to miss me. It means I’ve done something right, but I don’t want you to take it so hard that you blame yourself.”

I let a small sob escape and cupped my hand to my mouth as she went on.

“I know you’re afraid to show that heart of yours, Dallas. And I know they give you a hard time about showing your emotions with patients, but I think they might be wrong.”

I gave her an inquisitive look.

“Let that big heart of yours show, Dallas. Don’t be afraid to show it to your patients. It’s when you shine the most. Let them see how much you care, how disappointed you are when things are bad, and how excited you are when things go well.”

“Why would I do that?”

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