Page 86 of My Sunfall

“Oh my, god, Lucas your rib,” I cry, my annoyance forgotten.

“It’s nothing,” he grits out between clenched teeth, but his face has gone ashen. “Come sit next to me. Please…”

My heart clenches in my chest from seeing him in pain. I disentangle my hand and round the bed to sit on the other side, making sure to avoid brushing against his cracked rib. As soon as I’m settled, Lucas relaxes. I roll the overbed table near and we start to eat. Even wounded, Lucas gives me bites from his fork, his movements awkward and hindered by his ribs and bandaged hand. But he insists and since I want him to stop exerting himself, I obediently eat what he holds out to me. His eyes never leave my face, and heat creeps up my neck under the intensity of his stare, and my heart hammers erratically against my ribcage.

Later, the nurses return to renew his painkillers. I move aside again, watching as the medication is administered. When they leave, he looks heavier somehow, his eyes are softer, his movements slower.

“Movie?” I suggest quietly.

He nods, already reaching for the remote. We watch a light rom-com in companionable silence, my head against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me.

After a while, he speaks so quietly I think I imagined it at first.

“I always seem to fuck things up, don’t I?”

I lift my head. He is watching me, the blue of his eyes dull and heavy, but his gaze is trained on me. I frown. “What do you mean?”

“With…you. Us.” His voice is rough and there’s a hard line around his mouth.

I am about to reply, but he goes on. “I’ve mentioned that my parents died when I was twelve.”

I nod, wondering where this is going, but dreading to find out. Lucas has a faraway look now, obviously reliving those painful moments of the past.

“They were so in love they forgot they weren’t the only ones in the world. They left me to nannies and tutors to live their fairytale and travel the world while I stayed behind. That day, they were leaving again and I’d asked them not to go. But they still left, they chose themselves over me.” He swallows hard before going on. “And I wished that they’d die.” He averts his gaze, ignoring my sharp intake of breath.

“And they did. I mean die. Their plane crashed, and I was the one wanting them dead. I know it’s fucked up but I can’t stop myself from believing I caused this, that if I hadn’t wished for them to die, they’d still be alive.”

I begin to push myself up on my arms, but he intensifies his hold on me to pin me there.

“Lucas, you were a child,” I whisper brokenly.

He slowly shakes his head, turning his face back to mine. “No cara mia, I was old enough to know the meaning of words and their weight. Those were the last words we exchanged and now they are a constant reminder that I destroy everything I touch.”

Then his eyes are boring into mine, dark like fathomless pits.

“When…you said those things to Vitale, about divorcing me to marry him,” he goes on, voice rough, “I thought you’d leave me. That you were choosing him over me.”

I begin to protest but he cups my face, brushing his thumb over my lips to silence me.

“But even then, even thinking you were leaving me, I never thought—” He stops, breathing hard. His gaze becomes hard, and I shiver under the weight of the intensity.

“What are you saying?” I whisper through my constricted throat.

His eyes become heavy as he brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “I wished I’d be the one dying.”

“Lucas—”

“I wanted to make it stop. The pain. The knowledge that you’d willingly walk away from me. Again. I just…couldn’t take it anymore.” His hand falls back on the bed as if it were too heavy. He averts his face, jaw working.

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest. The room is quiet except for our breathing. My heart hammers against my chest and I can’t stop the ache that twists there. Is he saying…? No, this must be the medication.

“That’s…the drugs speaking,” I whisper.

He slowly shakes his head with a stubborn set on his jaw. But his eyes droop and he can’t fight anymore. “Cara mia,” he slurs, clearly losing the fight against sleep. “I know I have nothing to offer you. I know I’m fucked up, and I destroyed what we had. But still, I’m asking you—don’t go…” His voice cracks and the last word comes out in a mere whisper. “Please.”

“I’m right here,” I croak out. “Sleep now.” I lay my head on his shoulder, my throat constricted and my mind spinning.

“Lucas?”