Chapter 46 Henry
Forty Six
Henry
“How could you?” Rachel says, barely above a whisper. The hurt in her voice is like a shard of glass straight into my heart.
“Rachel, I—” I falter, because I don’t know what to say or how to say it.
“You left her.” She says it more sternly this time.
“I know.” My voice cracks.
“You left her!” she shouts now, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut.
“You left her in that ambulance, alone and unconscious! She woke up alone in that fucking hospital with no one by her side. They had to track us down because no one was there to tell the doctors she had a family!” Her face is raw with rage, and my heart is cracking—splintering, shattering within my chest.
“I—” Words fail me again as my throat closes up, vision blurring. My breath quickens, shallow and ragged.
“You told her you loved her! You told her you wanted something with her, and then the moment she needed you, where were you?” Rachel’s voice is relentless, cutting through me.
“She trusted you. She told you she fucking loved you, you worthless piece of shit. You didn’t even call to see if she was alive, to ask how bad her injuries were. You just forgot about her.”
“I never forgot about her,” I finally manage to croak out. “I called the hospital. They told me the basics.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own—just a hoarse whisper, the sound of a broken man.
“Oh, how good of you.” Her words drip pure venom.
“How is she?” I ask, though my voice barely carries.
“How is she?” Rachel spits the words back at me like poison. “She’s fucking heartbroken. She’s confused. She’s angry. And that’s not even counting the broken arm, the three fractured ribs, and the cuts to her face.”
Broken arm.
Broken ribs.
Cuts to her face.
The hospital told me she had minor injuries. That she was lucky. Minor injuries?! They sound like pretty fucking big injuries to me.
“You don’t deserve to ask how she is. You don’t deserve anything.”
“I know!” I shout, not at her directly, but at everything—at myself.
The self-loathing, the self-hatred, the heartbreak—it’s too much, and the words spill out uncontrollably.
“I know I don’t deserve anything, and I expect nothing.
I will hate myself until the day I die for not getting into that ambulance.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t watch her die.
I couldn’t watch the love of my life be taken from me.
“I know I’m a coward. I’m a fucking coward because I watched my mother get taken from my father by a drunk driver.
I watched the police arrive and tell him that the love of his life was never coming home.
I watched him die that night—and every day after.
I watched him grieve while I missed my mother, angry and lonely and confused.
My whole world changed, and I lost a part of myself that night.
“I was content being alone, being closed off from the world, stuffing those emotions into a box so I could never feel that level of loss again. And then Matilda had to go and ruin it all—she made me see beauty again, she made me fall in love with her. So no, Rachel, you don’t need to tell me what an awful person I am, because I already know. ”
My throat burns, the lump too big to swallow. Hot tears are streaming down my face—when did that happen? Rachel’s looking at me with an expression I can’t read, her eyes wide and filled with tears. All I have left is honesty. I owe her that much. I wish it was Matilda standing here instead.
“When the sirens came, I froze. I think I was having a trauma response—or a panic attack. Maybe both. I knew things were happening around me, but it was like it was happening to someone else. I remember dragging Matilda out of the car, but she wasn’t moving, and I—” My voice cracks again.
Fuck, I just need to get this out. “I thought she was dead. Then I saw her chest rise and fall. And then the sirens and the flashing lights came, and the next thing I knew, she was on the stretcher being loaded into the ambulance. They asked if I was coming, and I wanted to say yes. God, I wanted to be with her more than anything—but I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t watch her die. And then they were gone.”
I swipe angrily at the tears blurring my vision, and through the haze I see Rachel wiping her own tears away.
“The moment they left, I knew I had made the worst mistake of my life. I wanted to run to her, but I couldn’t.
I just fucking couldn’t move. Time passed, and I knew I didn’t deserve to call.
I didn’t deserve her forgiveness or her understanding.
I didn’t deserve her. But I need her to know how truly sorry I am. I’m so fucking sorry.”
We stand there, two broken people, hot tears and too much emotion choking the room. Her eyes never leave mine—like she’s weighing me, testing if there’s anything left inside me worth believing.
Finally, she speaks.
“I’m sorry about your mum. Matilda never said.”
I can’t answer. I just nod, eyes dropping to my feet, swallowing up the silence between us.
“Do you love her?” She whispers between us.
“Yes.” A quiet sob leaves me.
“If you truly love her, Henry… then make this right. Go to her.”
A sob escapes me, jagged and raw, and I realise it’s mine just as the door swings closed behind Rachel as she leaves.