I hear the door open and someone moving around. My eyes open and I realize I fell asleep in his bed. Glancing at the sliding door I see the charge nurse enter smiling. Carefully, I climb out of his bed and instantly feel his loss. Being close to him gave me a small amount of solace.

“Sorry, honey, we need to take him for testing.”

“Is he okay?”

“They want to run some precautionary tests to make sure there isn’t something we’re missing,” she explains as she moves around the side of his bed.

“Should I be concerned?” I ask as my voice breaks.

She gives me a small smile. “The doctor will be in to talk to you and the rest of his family soon.”

I look back at Jackson and bite my fingernail hoping nothing’s wrong. It’s been eight long days that we’ve been waiting. The doctors thought he would’ve woken by now and had been worried about some irregularity in his heart. Suddenly, I see Jackson’s hand move.

“Did you see that?” I ask excitedly. “He moved,” I say to her, but she smiles and looks away.

“It was probably just a muscle spasm.”

The nurse moves his IV, dismissing what I swear I saw. As she moves over to check the paper on his heart monitor, I stare, waiting for something to happen again.

Suddenly, a noise jolts through the room.

Beeeeeeeeeeeep.

The sound echoes and time stops. Then everyone is in motion.

“He’s crashing!”

“Jackson!” I cry out.

Nurses are running.

“Code blue!”

“What’s going on?” I push against the nurse who’s lowering his bed.

I can’t breathe. Doctors are barking orders, running into the room, but no one will answer me.

“What’s happening?” I cry again, trying to get to him. He can’t die. “Do something!” I scream and the nurse holds me back.

I fight against her. This can’t be happening. “Calm down, Catherine.”

“Get the paddles,” the doctor orders the people around him.

My stomach falls and I want to die with him.

Please God … I’ll do anything. Please don’t take him from me. I can’t lose him too.

I sob and clutch my stomach as she pulls me back further. “Jackson, please! Fight!” I call out to him. Begging. Pleading.

“Get her out of here!”

“No!” I try to reach him. “Jackson!”

They push me out of the room and my hands find the cold, glass door. The curtain closes, blocking my view, and my world fades to black.

White light.

All I see is the bright glow above me.

The haze of death. This is it.

I inhale and exhale. Fresh air. It’s clean and pristine like the radiant light above me. It calls to me¸ begging me to come.

The luminosity is beautiful and calming.

Am I ready to go?

I know what it feels like to be left behind. The pain of agonizing over the loss of a loved one. Watching them cry and fall apart because they wish it wasn’t happening. What will this do to everyone? To Catherine?

I draw a deep breath and wait for something. Hell, anything. Death is pretty anticlimactic. Where’s God? Where are the angels and shit? I figured I’d hear some horns or trumpets. “Taps” maybe? I’ve been gypped.

There are no sounds in heaven.

It’s eerie and tranquil.

“Fight, Cole!” I hear someone call out.

Fight for what? For the pain I feel?

No, thanks.

My heart stops and I feel the tension in my body. I try to draw in air but it lodges and I begin to gasp and choke.

Here comes the end.

“Charge to 70,” another voice speaks, and my mind tries to grasp what’s happening.

“Clear!” he yells, and a current tears through me.

There are no sounds. No one says anything as the beep registers on the monitor before I let go. I have no fight left.

“Push another round of epi!”

It hurts to breathe, so I stop trying.

The darkness returns and then the light takes over, my vision blurs. I keep my eyes closed.

I’m not ready to go … to lose everything and everyone. As much as I’d like to live with no guilt and no remorse anymore, I can’t leave them all.

So once again, I find the fight I have inside of me. The part of me I rely on when I have to find a way. I’m about to use everything I have left—if I can’t get through this black there’ll be no going back.

“Charge to 80.”

“Clear.”

The electric voltage travels through my body shocking each nerve alive.

“Pulse is eighty,” a female voice says.

My chest heaves as I struggle to gain control of my body.

The bright ray returns and it’s blinding. Taking all of the warmth I felt before. Now, I’m cold. There’s pain everywhere, each bone feels like it’s shattering. The fucking agony is unbearable. Maybe death is the better choice if this is the shit I’m going to go through. Although, if this is death shouldn’t there not be any goddamn pain?

I’m going to miss her. Maybe I can still hear her, touch her, and see her from heaven. She’s my heaven on Earth. She gave me the will to love again, even if it nearly broke us both. She’s my downfall too, but it was worth the pain to have the time we had. I never told her though. I never really explained how much she gave me. I’ll never have that chance now.

No.

Fuck this.

Regret is a motherfucker.

“Pulse is rising,” another voice says.

My eyes open and I see someone in my face. “Cole. Can you hear me? Get the family in here.” I struggle to figure out what’s going on as my eyes close. “He’s waking up.”

Time passes and I hear a lot of movement, but I can’t focus on anything.

“Jackson, if you can hear us, open your eyes.” I feel something press against my arm and tighten.

Drawing a deep breath I smell vanilla. She’s here. I will my eyes to open as I feel the pain again. The muscles lock in my body as I will them to obey. The light grows brighter and brighter. Fucking hell, this shit hurts.

“Jackson?” I hear Catherine’s voice crack.

I try to move my hand and I feel her soft hand grasp mine. I felt that. All of it. I can feel her skin.

Closing my eyes again, I try to adjust to the light. I’m awake—alive. Tilting my head to the side, I open my eyes and look at her for the first time.

Breathtaking.

That’s the only word I can think of. She’s beautiful. Even with her puffy eyes and quivering lips—she takes my breath away.

“Hi,” I say softly with tears blurring my vision. He’s awake. He’s alive. A week of wonder and fear, somehow he fought through it all.

Jackson looks around confused as his heart rate starts to accelerate on the monitor. I wipe the happy tears and try to reassure him by placing my hand against his cheek.

My throat croaks as I try to get my emotions under control. “Shhh … don’t try to talk.” His brow furrows as I speak. “You’re okay, baby. You’re in Germany at the hospital.” I reach out and smooth his brow, the desire to touch him is too great. His eyes close as my fingers float across his skin.