Toxic (Ruin #2)(60)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“So tired,” she repeated.

“A nap sounds good, doesn’t it?” I said hoarsely. “Wouldn’t that feel good, sweetheart? To take a nice, long nap?” My voice cracked as Saylor came up behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders.

“Yes…” Princess said slowly. “Ashton, will you sing me to sleep…” Her eyes welled with tears. “One more time?”

“Yeah,” I whispered through my tight throat “I can do that.”

“And Ashton?” she pleaded, her voice so weak I was sick to my stomach.

“What sweetheart?”

“Thanks for being my best friend.” Her voice was so weak, it was hard to discern what she was saying.

I nodded. I couldn’t talk. Whatever words were forming in my mind wouldn’t make sense. They’d come out as a pitiful sob.

Without letting go of her hand, I leaned in and started to sing, while Tara went and slowly started pulling the equipment from Kimmy’s throat and body.

“I love my Princess, my favorite girl. Every time I hear her laugh, I want to save the world — cause she’s my, my, my girl.” My voice cracked and wavered as my mind replayed images of our times together.

Our first movie, her laugh, her smile, the way she kissed me, the love she gave me. The gift of her life was more than I’d ever deserve.

I kept singing. “My girl, my girl, she’ll always be my girl, and when the tears fall from her eyes, I’ll swear to never let her cry… never alone, never without me, never without us together. My girl, her and I will rule forever. My girl. She’ll forever be my girl.”

Princess smiled and closed her eyes.

Her chest stopped moving.

I knew she was gone — and I knew in that moment that God had received another princess into his arms. It happened so swiftly so beautifully that had I not been watching her face, I would have never known that she’d slipped away.

A vision of Kimmy running through Heaven brought a sad smile to my face — she was gone. And she was finally whole.

Chapter Fifty

If I could take away his pain… If there was a way to transfer it from his soul onto mine. I would take it. Without hesitation I would take it all. Maybe that’s how you know you love someone. When you actually feel each tear they cry as if they were your own. When you feel each cut, each bruise, each hit as if you’re the one suffering. I bled for him. And in turn, he bled for her. Funny, how life comes full circle. —Saylor

Saylor

“She’s gone.” My mom said it softly, but it may as well have been a scream for as much as the announcement penetrated the room. “I’ll make the call to hospice.”

Slowly, Gabe released Kimmy’s hand and stood. “I need to call her family, make an announcement, get the funeral arrangements—” He staggered, nearly collapsing on the floor.

Without thought, I grabbed his hand and led him down the hall until we were in the music room.

I closed the doors.

I locked them.

And led Gabe to the piano seat.

“We’ll stay here…” I squeezed his hand. “…for as long as it takes.”

“What?” His eyes were glassy with tears.

“For as long as it takes for the sorrow and pain to transfer into acceptance. I’ll stay here. With you. By your side. I won’t leave.”

“Promise?”

“Vow.” I placed his hands gently on the piano. “I vow.”

“I can’t.” Gabe’s hand were lifeless against the keys.

With strength I didn’t even know I had within me, I put my hands over his and started playing. “Then let me play through you. Let me help you push through that pain until there’s nothing left.”

Gabe hung his head and let me help him.

Soon, his hands were gliding over the piano with such perfection, I was able to remove my own.

Tears collided with his hands. The drops caused his fingers to sometimes slip as he moved from one song to another.

Three hours we were in that room.

The only noise was the music Gabe played. Some sad songs, some happy ones, but in the end, sometimes words can’t express what’s in your soul. And talking to Gabe about what he just went through? Seemed silly compared to letting him bare it all to me with his music.

When the last note ended, Gabe stood.

I was sitting on the floor against the wall.

He walked over to me and dropped to his knees staring into my eyes for what felt like an eternity. Then he took my hands in his and pulled me to his chest. “I love you. If you remember nothing else for the rest of your life, if you fall and hit your head and can’t remember my name, if you get so sick you’re unrecognizable, if you hate me, if you’re on your deathbed and can’t manage to even lift a finger — remember this. I. Love. You. Always. Forever. Eternally. Is that kind of love something you can handle, Saylor?”

“I already am.” I choked back the tears. “I love you too.”

The room fell silent, only our ragged breathing kept me aware that time was passing. That it wasn’t a dream.

“Come on.” Gabe got up and held out his hand. “It’s a new day.”

I smiled and gripped his hand with mine. “It’s a new beginning.”

“That…” Gabe smiled and kissed my head. “It is.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Death and love are the only two things that exist in this world that are strong enough to alter the course of your life, of your destiny. They either propel you or paralyze you. In the end, the choice is always yours. —Wes M.

Gabe

The funeral was over with before I even realized it started. I got up to say a few words and almost cracked. Then Saylor smiled.

And I was able to finish the eulogy.

I sang her song.

It was bittersweet. When I’d written her that song it had been during a time in my life when things were still so innocent. When she was still Kimmy to me, when I thought I would spend the rest of my existence in her arms.

If there was anything I learned in this situation it was that we weren’t promised anything. All we had was moments strung together. Each one is over in a blink of an eye. I’d understood this to an extent when Wes went through his surgery. God, I’d been so bitter about that. So angry because it hit so close to home. Because I’d known I was doing a crappy job of pushing away my demons.

But now? Now I just wanted to do right.

And doing right started with Saylor.

“Hey,” Saylor walked up and gave me a hug. We walked hand in hand out of the church. Oddly enough reporters had respected my wishes and laid off a bit. There were still cameras but the buzz felt different, as if they were mourning right along with me.