Chapter 57 Hospital bed goodbyes
Hospital bed goodbyes
The words that Poppy said echo in my chest like a soft bell tolling.
I stand with Lucas, phone still in my hand, staring blankly at the floor.
“He’s awake?” Lucas says softly.
I nod. “Yeah… Poppy said he’s asking for me.”
He doesn’t say anything right away. Just watches me, waiting.
“I should go,” I say, finally looking up at him. “Not because I owe him. But because I need to. For me. After this mess bringing him back in my life. I need to say goodbye properly.”
He walks to me slowly, pulling me into his arms. “I get it.”
“I don’t want to be dragged back into his world, Lucas. I’m not… confused. I just—”
“Angel,” he cuts in gently, tilting my chin so I have to meet his eyes. “I know. I trust you. And I love you. So much. You don’t need to explain.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes.
“I love you too,” I whisper.
He kisses me softly, his forehead resting against mine. “Go get your closure, baby. I’ll be here when you’re ready to come home.”
The drive is quiet. I put on an acoustic playlist—gentle covers of songs I already know by heart—and let the music carry me.
My mind drifts to everything Miranda said.
About letting go. About how it’s okay to walk away from someone you can’t save.
I’m not walking into that hospital out of obligation.
I’m walking in because I need to close this chapter. For good.
When I arrive, I park slowly and sit there for a moment, staring at the glass doors of the hospital entrance. Then I take a deep breath and head inside.
Poppy is at the desk, the front of her curly brown hair falling onto her face, barely contained by her ponytail. She’s typing something. When she sees me, she stands, smiling at me.
“Thank you for coming,” she says, her hazel eyes filled with kindness. “He’s been asking for you since he woke up.”
“Is he… okay?”
“He’s weak. Still processing everything. But he’s lucid. And emotional.”
I nod. “I’ll just go in.”
She gestures toward the hallway. “He’s in the same room, number eight.”
“Thank you.”
As I approach, I already feel the chill in my chest. And then I see Sandra. Sean’s mum. Sitting in the hallway outside his room, arms folded, eyes red. She spots me instantly. Her expression hardens. She doesn’t speak.
“I heard he asked for me,” I say quietly.
After a long pause, she gives a single nod. “Go ahead.”
I push the door open.
Sean is awake, sitting propped up in bed, an oxygen tube still beneath his nose. He looks pale. Smaller. But he’s awake. And when he sees me, his face lights up a bit.
“You’re here,” he says, smiling softly. “They told me you visited.”
I step inside. “I did.”
He blinks fast, tears already building. “Thank you.”
I sit down in the chair beside the bed. The silence between us is heavy, but not bitter. Just… full.
“This is the first time I’ve been sober in months,” he says with a humourless laugh. “It’s weird. Being clear like this.”
I say nothing. Just let him talk.
“I keep thinking over everything.” He looks to the small window, avoiding my gaze.
“Every time I hurt you. Every time I chose the drugs. Every time I yelled at you. Every time I called you names. Every time I would punch a wall. I told myself it wasn’t me.
But it was.” He shakes his head slowly and looks at me with tears in his eyes.
“They changed me. But I let them… it’s like there’s something inside of me that’s broken.
” He puts his hand to his chest like he’s in pain, then he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. ”
Tears slip down my cheeks. I don’t stop them.
“This… what happened. It scared me. I thought I was dying. I knew I was.” He swallows hard.
“I want to change. I’m going to rehab. And I’m going to see someone.
Not just for the drugs, but for this.” He gestures to his chest, his whole body, like he doesn’t know where to start.
“For all of it. For the person I’ve been. I don’t like who I’ve become.”
I cry then. Quietly. Because somewhere in that mess, I hear the version of Sean I used to believe in.
“I’m glad you’re getting help,” I say, voice breaking. “I hope you do change, Sean. I want that for you.”
He nods, his eyes shining. “I don’t expect anything from you.
I just… I needed you to hear me say it. That I know I fucked up.
And I want to do better.” He nods his head, like part of him is still convincing himself he can change.
“You probably hate me, you probably think I’m a bad person.
You probably won’t ever forgive me and I don’t expect you to. ”
I reach for his hand briefly. “I don’t know if I can forgive you yet.
Maybe someday. And I don’t think you’re a bad person, Sean.
I just believe there are some things inside you that need healing, and that’s okay.
There’s no shame in admitting you’re struggling, but instead of facing what was broken inside you, you pushed me away.
I understand now, but it still hurts. It didn’t have to be this hard.
That’s the part I’ll never quite get. You let it all fall apart for no real reason.
It wasn’t the world against you, it was you against yourself.
And until you face that, you’ll never get better.
Not really. But I hope you do. I really do.
” I watch the tears fall from his brown eyes.
“I’m not coming back again Sean. I can’t be the person who helps you fix this. I have to move on.”
He nods. “I know. I don’t want to drag you back into this. I just… thank you for coming.”
We sit there a few more seconds. Quiet. Breathing.
Then I stand. “Goodbye, Sean.”
He smiles faintly, eyes glossy and tears still wet on his cheeks. “Goodbye, Camille.”
I walk out of the hospital, letting the door close behind me. The light hits my face as I step into the car park, back to reality. I breathe deeply—like it’s the first breath I’ve taken all day.
This is it.
I got my closure.
Now it’s time to live.
The sunlight streams in through the car window, soft and golden, as I drive home from the hospital. My chest feels impossibly, even lighter again. Like I finally set down that weight I didn’t know I was still carrying.
Sean looked me in the eye and apologized. It didn’t erase everything, but it gave me peace. That’s all I ever wanted. Not a redo, not regret. Just peace.
I pull into the driveway, still feeling that strange mix of sadness and calm. Maybe that’s what healing feels like.
When I get home, I crank up a chill pop playlist, tie my hair up, and dive straight into building my future.
I sit down at the kitchen table, with Gizmo curled up on my lap.
I start sketching out the logo—soft lined waves, filled with neutral tones.
I design graphics for Instagram and Facebook, pick the fonts, the vibe. Cozy, coastal and modern.
By sunset, I’m staring at a glowing screen, heart pounding as I post: Waves by the Sea—Opening Friday 21st of March! Appointments with Camille—open now.
I close the app, terrified.
Then it starts.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Within hours, I’m booked solid. Messages flood in from old clients, excited, cheering, asking if I’m really back. I reply to every single one. The next couple of weeks is full. My heart is even fuller.
Just wait ‘til I announce Sarah’s coming with me. She’ll be booked out before she even walks in the door.
And as if on cue, the front door opens.
Lucas walks in. He’s sweaty and smiling, tired and perfect.