Chapter 40
Chapter
Forty
Salem
“You can't just fucking make these decisions!” Fury licks up my spine. Taylor squeezes my shoulder, but it does nothing to calm me down. "I'm his wife. And you saw the scans, there’s brain activity."
Sarah stands near the foot of Logan’s bed, her arms crossed like a shield. Beside her, Joel looks at me with that same empty disapproval I’ve grown to despise. “There’s been no sign of improvement,” he says flatly. “The doctor said it’s unlikely—”
“I don’t give a shit what’s unlikely!”
Sarah's lip trembles. “I can’t watch my son suffer like this, Salem. Please. You need to let him go.”
“How can you be okay with this?” I hiss, glaring at her. “You raised him! Or does he no longer matter since you have four other biological children to take his place?”
My head whips to the side when her palm cracks across my cheek. Taylor gasps, and my shaking fingers raise instantly to touch the stinging mark.
“How dare you?” she scolds as tears escape the corners of her blood-shot eyes. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t sit up every night praying for a miracle?”
Swallowing hard, I drop my gaze to my husband on the bed. “He's still in there, I can feel it. Please. At least wait until Devon turns up before we—”
“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”
I squeeze my lids shut, stomach plummeting to the floor.
No.
“Devon,” Sarah whispers. Her voice is barely audible over the pulse pounding in my head.
When I open my eyes, they land on Dev standing next to Christian.
He looks like shit, gaunt cheeks and pink skin freshly healed from road rash on his arms. His hard gaze barely spares his parents a glance when he moves closer, zeroing in on Logan instead.
Like he’s searching for a trace of the boy we all used to know.
Taylor stands frozen beside me, quiet for once.
The silence wraps around us like a shroud.
“Is he…” Dev starts before trailing off.
Joel answers quicker than I can, throwing me a harsh look. “He's gone. I'll go get the doctor.”
Sarah chokes out a sob and nearly collapses. If Tay hadn't been close by to catch her, she’d have hit the floor. But I'm not sad. I'm fucking outraged.
“Why?” I snarl, lurching forward to shove Devon back.
He doesn't even resist, just slumps against the guardrails of the bed with a blank expression.
So I shove him again, and again, eventually pounding my fists into his shoulders while hot tears flow down my cheeks.
“Why did you come back? I hate you. I fucking hate you!”
Taylor reaches for me, but Dev throws out a hand to stop him, taking every hit like he knows he deserves it.
“You selfish piece of shit!” I pummel his ribs so hard that he flinches. “You hurt him, and now he’s gone and it’s your fault and you don’t even care—”
“I know,” he says quietly, yanking me into a hug. “Salem, I know.”
The fight surges out of me. I drop my arms and scream into his chest so loud I swear my throat fucking bleeds.
Sarah presses into my side, wrapping herself around us.
Taylor moves in next, followed by Christian.
All of us stand there and hold each other as we break into so many pieces that we'll never be whole again.
Not without Logan. Not without the man I've loved for years, but was too afraid to love completely.
And now I'll never get the chance.
Logan's dad re-enters the room, a doctor at his side. Their faces are grave as they approach the bed. Joel doesn't look at any of us. “We’re ready.”
“No,” I whisper, tightening my grip on Devon without meaning to.
The doctor clears his throat and holds up a clipboard. “I just need this DNR authorization signed.”
“I’ll do it,” Joel says, but the doctor shakes his head.
“It can only be done by next of kin, and since Mrs. Vaughn is his wife… her signature is needed.”
My heart stutters. All attention swings to me, but my pleading gaze stays on Joel. “I’m begging you to wait. Just a little longer. I know he's still in there.”
This time, he looks at me—really looks at me—and my chest crumples at the devastation I finally see behind his eyes.
He gestures toward the bed with a trembling hand.
“Salem, Logan’s gone. There’s nothing left.
And each minute you drag this out is another minute we have to watch his body waste away.
Don’t make my wife remember her son like this. ”
I try to protest again, but Sarah takes my damp face between her palms. “If you love him,” she whispers, “then let him go. End this suffering. Please.”
My breath leaves me in a soundless sob. All the sorrow, the fury, the hope I’ve held onto since the day he left me in Vegas, it all drains out of me at once, leaving nothing behind but a hollow ache.
She's right. I love him. And I can't let him go on like this.
Leaning down, I press my lips to Logan’s temple. “I’m sorry... so fucking sorry.”
Then, with fingers that don’t feel like mine, I take the clipboard and scrawl my name across the dotted line.
The doctor starts the process of removing Logan’s breathing tube, followed by the IV. For now, his heartbeat remains steady, but for how long? Without oxygen and nutrients… how long until that monitor goes flat?
Could be minutes. Could be hours.
The grief in the room is overwhelming.
Sarah lets out a broken wail that will haunt me forever, the sound of a mother losing her child.
She drops into the chair by his bed and lays her head on his chest. The aching pit inside of me grows with every passing second, threatening to swallow me whole.
When I look over at Tay, he's crying as well.
So is Devon, standing next to Christian as they gaze down at Logan like they're just waiting for the end.
Joel only stares off into space with his arms crossed, eyes completely dry, and I've never hated anyone more than I hate him at this moment.
Part of me wants to rage. I want to scream, tear down the fucking walls around us until we're buried alive beside the one person I don't know if I can exist without. God, I spent so many years running from him, from the love he offered, and now it's too fucking late.
When the heart monitor starts to slow, and then flatlines completely, it might as well be my own pulse running out.
What did I just do? What the fuck have I done?
Taking one last look at Logan’s face, one last squeeze of his hand, I whirl on my heel and walk away.
Out of the room, down the hall, almost making it to the elevator when footsteps slap against the tile behind me.
I glance over my shoulder to see Christian and Taylor standing there with matching expressions of anguish.
“Where are you going?” Tay asks, panicked.
I suck in a sharp breath, my lungs aching like they’ve been torn open and left to bleed. “I can’t be here, Taylor. I can't.”
Christian reaches for me, his voice gentler than I’ve ever heard it. “He wouldn’t want you to leave, Sal.”
“Well, he doesn’t get a say anymore, does he?” I snap, the words like acid on my tongue.
Taylor flinches, but he doesn’t back off. “Salem, please.”
“No. He was there. I wanted more time, but nobody fucking believed me, and now he’s gone.”
Before either of them can say another word, I step inside the elevator, choking on sobs that threaten to bubble up my throat.
The doors slide shut.
They don't try to stop me. They just let me go.
I hold myself together all the way through the hospital and out into the parking lot, only allowing myself to fall apart once I'm alone in my car with no one around to hear me break.
The scream that rips out of me is raw and guttural, clawing its way up from every version of me that’s ever loved him. I slam my fists against the steering wheel over and over until my knuckles throb and tears blur the world into meaningless shapes.
It’s not fair. None of this is fair.
He wanted me, and I let him slip away. I couldn't love him how he needed me to. Fuck, if I could just have one more chance, I'd try. God, I'd try.
But now he's gone, and so is everything inside of me that he loved.
All I have left are regrets and the ghost of a life we might’ve had.
And I'll never be the same.