Page 73 of Taboo
"She was just admitted. Are you a family member? She’s in the HCU, third floor. She’s stable, but?—”
I’m gone before she finishes, taking the stairs two at a time, my wet clothes dripping, leaving a trail. The HCU ward is quieter. The air is raught with life support machines humming, dimmed lights. A nurse, gray hair, clipboard in hand, spots me.“Can I help you, sir? You can’t be wandering around here. It’s not visiting hours."
I pause long enough to explain to her and ask if she is able to help me.
"Are you Ms. Fitzwilliam's husband?
“No.”
“Brother?” she asks suspiciously.
“Yeah,” I pant, chest heaving. For once in my life, I am relieved to be able to say that I am her blood relative. “Is she okay? Can I see her? Please.”
“She’s stable,” she says, flipping a page. “She’s suffered a concussion- a pretty bad one I must add. It seems she was hit with a blunt object. There was a little bit of bleeding. Then there’s the hypothermia from the water. We’ve treated her, and now we’re monitoring her vitals. She’s very lucky. Do you know if she fell into the water? She was too close to drowning. She’s so lucky someone got her out just in time. She’s sedated right now, but you can sit with her.”
Relief floods me, shaky, overwhelming, but I’m already moving, following her towards a curtained enclosure. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, I’m feeling all the fear, the shock, the cold in my bones, and it is enough to cripple me.
I take a deep breath as she pulls the curtains apart.
And there she is. The love of my life. Alive. She’s alive. Tears begin to pour down my face. There are tubes in her arm, and her face is so pale she looks like a ghost, but she seems peaceful. My heart lurches. I’d nearly lost her. I nearly lost everything.
Unable to process the enormity of what could have happened if Tom had not come upon the murder scene, I collapse on the chair by her bedside. For the longest time, I simply gaze at her, thanking God for saving her. For not taking her away from me. And then I apologize to her because all of this is my fault. I’ve been so blind. So blind to something that should have been soobvious. As if Sara would not notice how desperately I craved Amelia. Any woman would have intuitively known. I reach out and hold her hand.
Her fingers are cool, but she is alive. Thank God, she is alive, and her pulse is steady under my thumb.
“I’m here,” I whisper, my voice raw, leaning close, my forehead brushing her hand. “I’m so sorry, Amelia. I didn’t know… I didn’t know Sara could do something like this.”
My eyes burn as tears slip free and hot against my cheeks. I don’t care who sees, don’t care about the world outside this room.
“I love you. And I’m so sorry. Needless to say, my marriage is over. You’re mine from this moment on in every way. I don’t give a damn if they call us brother and sister. To hell with them, with all of them. You’re my everything, and I’m not losing you again.”
She doesn’t respond, but I have no intention of moving. Not till she opens her eyes and I confirm that she is alright.
Hours pass, the clock ticks its way into two o’clock in the morning. My body aches, but I don’t move. I can’t. My hand remains locked in hers.
I close my eyes and pray until a soft stir pulls my eyes open. Scared out of my mind, I watch her lids flutter. And then her eyes find mine. She widens her eyes as if she can’t focus properly. It takes a while for her to register my face, and then when she does, a weak smile curves her lips. My chest cracks open, joy and relief spilling out.
“Max,” she murmurs, her voice faint, scratchy, but it is hers. She is freaking alive. “You’re here.”
“Always,” I say, squeezing her hand, my voice thick. “Always, Amelia. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you, Amelia. I love you, sweetheart."
Her smile widens, faint but radiant. She shifts and winces. Her fingers tighten in mine. “Why are you apologizing? It wasn’t your fault."
"It was," I argue, but I don’t want to stress her out, so I resolve to not say anymore.
"Max,” she says, her voice stronger now, “Sara..."
"Yeah, I know," I say. "I can’t believe it either. She’s gone insane, but don’t worry. She won’t get away with it. I swear it. I will make her pay. And ... Amelia, for the record, I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t care what they think. I never want to live a single day away from you after today. I don’t care if you’re my half-sister. All that matters is you are mine. That I am with you, that I fall asleep with you, and wake up to you. I know now that for you, I’d burn down to ashes everything I’ve built—my company, my name, everything. No one’s tearing us apart again. I swear. Please accept this promise. Please accept me."
Tears fill her eyes. "Max," she says. "There’s something I must tell you."
"Tell me what?” I ask, my nerves in a knot.
"I'm so sorry I didn’t tell you before, but we’re not brother and sister. Dad lied. He told me before he died that he made it up to keep us apart. You’re not my brother. You never were.”
The words hit me like a shockwave. I stare at her in disbelief, my breath stopping. “What?” I choke out, leaning closer, searching her eyes. “What? What are you- What? We're not related?"
She nods.
