Page 104 of Because I Need You
Shiver, the way we shivered when we were outside in Chicago in the dead of winter, as if it was the most horrible thing in the world. I knew he meant it because he never rated the rest of them a five. Death by drowning? Four. Death by gunshot? Three, depending on where you got shot. Death by knife to the femoral artery? Eh, maybe four and a half, but death by old age? Easy five. He got his wish, I guess. That’s the thing about death, though. The person who dies actually rests in peace. It’s the rest of us who stay restless. Some things keep us up. The day-to-day monotony, the day-to-day excitement when you’re working on something new, but at night, at the end of each day, you’re still left alone with that restlessness and that pain. Fuck. That pain alone I’d rate a five and a half. That pain doesn’t go away. People say grief gets easier with time. It doesn’t. We just learn to ignore it better. We push it to the back of our minds and occupy ourselves with whatever the fuck we can in order to not think about it, to not feel it.
I never rated any death a five. I usually rated all of them four-and-a-half, though, and Frankie would call me a little bitch for it, since he’d rate the rest of them a three and sometimes four. I was never going to stop missing my best friend, never, but I knew I had to push past the pain and keep on going. At least, I hoped I could. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was completely in love with Isabel Bonetti. I would die for her, no questions asked. I would kill for her, no hesitation. And now, I had to let her go. Just like that. I had to get out of this uncomfortable chair in her hospital room and walk out the door and not look back. For her sake. For my sanity. Fuck. For everyone’s sake. I got up and walked over to her bedside, taking her in one last time. Even with the bruises, the black eye, and the broken nose, she was fucking breathtaking. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her lips as softly as I could, and I walked out of that room with no heart in my chest. She’d taken it, like the little thief she was, coming into my life and stealing my air, my time, my sanity, my thoughts, everything. If I could turn back time, I wasn’t sure that I’d do it all over again. Someone once said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that was complete bullshit. I didn’t want to love Isabel. I didn’t want to love anyone. It just happened and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it could never happen again, because this emptiness? This bottomless feeling? I’d rate that a five too.
Yeah, I’m a little bitch. I know. Fuck off.
47
ISABEL
When I opened my eyes in the hospital, I panicked, gasping for air, until the nurses settled me down. I couldn’t settle down, though, everything hurt, and I saw no sign of Gio. When I asked if I had any visitors, the nurse who was with me that day said yes and my chest expanded with hope, only to see Nadia and Petra walk in. I swallowed, chest aching so much I was sure they’d need to replace it with another. Petra’s right arm was in a cast, her face looking like she’d seen better days. Both of their expressions were grim and did nothing for the panic I felt. When I closed my eyes, the only thing I saw was Gio’s face in front of mine, eyes wild and scared as he took me in, and then I heard the gunshots. The gunshots were so loud in my memory. My ears still felt like they were ringing from it. What I couldn’t remember was what happened. Someone tried to shoot him. There were so many gunshots fired. So many. Whoever it was probably hadn’t missed. Seeing the way Petra and Nadia were looking at me, I knew it was bad news.
“Did he…” My lip wobbled so hard I could barely talk. Before the question was even out of my mouth, I began to sob. “Please tell me he’s okay.”
“He’s okay.” They both rushed to my side.
“Hey.” Petra smoothed my hair out of my forehead, tears in her own eyes. “He’s okay.”
“Did he get shot?” I looked between the two of them. They both shook their heads. I let out a sigh of relief, but it didn’t last long. “You’re okay.” I grabbed the arm that wasn’t in a cast. “God. I was so scared. I saw you lying on the ground, and I thought—” I shook my head, swallowing, then flinching at how much it hurt. Nadia stood on the other side of the bed, patting my cheeks with a tissue.
