Chapter Five
DEE
Ever since Johnny and Anna left yesterday, Colt’s been acting… off. He’s quiet, withdrawn, and won’t say much about whatever went down between him and Johnny.
I’m guessing it’s because he doesn’t want me to feel guilty.
But I do.
I know he’s been skipping interviews and canceling band commitments because of me.
And as much as that makes my chest ache with guilt, there’s also this selfish part of me that’s relieved.
Because I don’t think I could have come this far without him, without his constant presence, his steady strength.
Knowing he loves me—openly, freely, in front of anyone—makes me feel invincible. To finally be loved back, just as fiercely as I love him. Well, that’s more than I ever dared to hope for.
Colt walks into the hospital room while I’m eating my Jell-O, and my heart stutters.
He looks terrible.
Is he getting sick?
Still, when I glance up at him, I can’t help but smile and shift my broken leg to get more comfortable. But then I notice the doctor following behind him, and my stomach drops.
Something’s wrong.
They both look so grim, and every hair on my arms stands on end.
“Colt, are you okay?” I ask, frowning as he comes over and sits on the edge of my bed.
I set the container of Jell-O on the tray and watch him closely, anxiety creeping in. He doesn’t say anything, and his silence is starting to terrify me.
He slides the tray aside and moves in closer, as close as he can get.
My nerves are screaming at me. Whatever they’re about to tell me, I already know I won’t like it.
Great. I’m probably going to be stuck in here for another damn month.
Colt takes my hand and squeezes it so tightly I swear it might snap.
“Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?” I ask, the panic clawing up my throat.
Colt closes his eyes and swallows hard like he’s trying to force the truth down before it spills out.
My mind goes wild with what they’re going to tell me. Maybe there’s a complication with my leg—God knows it still aches. Perhaps it’s not healing right. Maybe I’ve got an infection, and the only way to save me is to amputate.
Oh God, I’m going to lose my leg.
Colt opens his eyes and glances at the doctor, giving him the slightest nod.
That’s it.
That’s the confirmation.
He’s permitting him to deliver the death sentence to my leg.
Because what else could it possibly be?
It has to be that.
“Dee, baby…” Colt’s voice is shaky. Too shaky. “What the doctor’s about to tell you… it doesn’t change anything, okay? I love you. Nothing changes that. Nothing ever could.”
No.
No, no, no. That’s not something you say about a leg. That’s something you say when your world is about to be obliterated.
I bite down hard on my bottom lip as my chest tightens. My breath catches, stuttering in and out like I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
The doctor steps forward, his face already telling me that whatever he’s about to say will wreck me.
“This is too much,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You’re scaring me. Just… what the hell is going on?” My eyes sting as tears threaten to fall.
The doctor clears his throat, but the hesitation in his eyes says everything. “Dee, there were complications during your surgery,” he begins, carefully choosing his words. “When you were hit, a piece of metal tubing pierced your abdomen—”
“I know that,” I interrupt quickly, confused. “That’s old news. What does that have to do with my leg?”
I glance at Colt, but he can’t meet my eyes.
Oh God, it’s not about my leg.
The doctor’s voice lowers, “The tubing caused severe trauma to your internal organs…” He pauses.
My whole body tenses. “But you fixed it, right?” I ask, my voice rising, desperate. “I mean, I feel fine, so you fixed it?”
Please say yes.
He shakes his head slightly. “We removed the damaged organs. There was no way to save them.”
I blink, trying to keep up. “What do you mean, removed?”
The doctor draws in a breath. “Your ovaries, uterus, and fallopian tubes were all beyond repair. I’m sorry, Dee, but we had no choice.”
The world goes quiet, like someone’s dropped me into a vacuum.
Colt’s grip on my hand tightens, anchoring me, but all I feel is the ringing in my ears and the thunder of my heart trying to break free from my chest.
I stare ahead, unblinking.
What does that mean?
What does that actually mean?
And then it hits me.
Like a freight train.
I can’t have children.
Not ever.
And just like that, the part of me that still believed in happy endings… dies.
When I look at Colt, tears glisten in his eyes. That’s all the confirmation I need.
This is real.
This is as bad as I think it is.
The doctor’s still talking, but I can’t hear a damn word. Everything slows down, like the world’s submerged in water, but at the same time, it’s spinning too fast.
Out of control.
And I’m barely hanging on.
“Dee, we performed a hysterectomy,” the doctor says, his voice distant and muffled. “You may experience menopausal symptoms in the coming months, but the nurses will give you some brochures to help you understand what to expect.”
Brochures?
He’s giving me pamphlets for the end of everything I ever dreamed of.
The words slam into me.
My throat dries.
The air in the room disappears.
I’m choking on nothing.
I shake my head violently, trying to reject the truth, trying to push it away.
No.
No, no, no—this can’t be right. I misheard him.
I have to have misheard him.
“Are you saying I can’t have children?” I whisper, barely able to form the words through my sob.
Colt exhales sharply. His eyes don’t leave mine, and in them, I see it—confirmation.
Finality.
The doctor grimaces, and that’s it.
The floor opens beneath me.
I’m sinking.
Drowning.
I can never carry a child.
I can never give Colt a family.
The one thing I always thought I’d have was stolen from me in a single breath.
Oh God.
I’m broken.
I’m empty.
I clutch my stomach, now knowing it’s hollow, gutted in more ways than one. The pain is unbearable—physical, emotional, soul-deep. My breath comes in sharp, frantic gasps.
Colt’s hands are on my face, trying to anchor me, but I can’t see him through the tears blurring everything.
My body is buzzing, tingling, shaking.
Every nerve is screaming.
The ache in my leg, my stomach—it’s like fire ripping through me.
“I can’t… breathe,” I rasp, panic climbing higher.
There is no air.
Just heat and noise and grief.
“Dee, focus on my face.” His voice breaks through the chaos, but I can’t hold onto it.
I’m spinning.
Falling.
Shattered.
I open my mouth to scream, to let it all out, but no sound comes. Just a strangled gasp, broken and raw. My leg twitches. My gaze locks on Colt, and I snap.
“Cut my leg off!” I cry, hyperventilating, tears pouring like a dam has burst inside me.
Colt blinks, stunned. “What?”
“Cut my fucking leg off!” I scream, my voice ragged, wild.
He turns to the doctor, panic etched on his face. “Baby, why would I do that?” he pleads, holding my face in his hands, desperate to bring me back.
“Because that’s why you came in here!” I sob, the words spilling out in jagged pieces. “Because it’s infected, and you need to cut it off. So do it. Just do it!”
I’m beyond reason now.
Beyond sanity.
Because if I’m going to lose something…
Why not lose everything?
“What are you talking about?” Colt asks, his voice trembling.
“My leg is fucked!” I shout, tears flowing harder now. “That’s why you look so sad. It has to be. It has to be!” I’m desperate, clawing at logic that doesn’t exist, trying to twist the truth into something that hurts less.
Because it can’t be what they’re saying.
They’re wrong.
They have to be wrong.
Colt frowns and shakes his head, and it only makes me more frantic.
“No, listen to me! My stomach barely aches. It’s my leg that hurts, Colt.
That’s the problem. So cut it off. I’ll live in a wheelchair, I don’t care.
I can handle that. But not th-this…” My voice cracks.
“Not being able to give you a baby. That’s impossible.
So just… just take the damn leg and be done with it. ”
Colt’s breath stutters. He looks to the doctor like he’s begging him to help fix what can’t be fixed.
“Dee…” Colt turns back to me, eyes glassy as the Doctor continues, “We didn’t get it wrong.
Your leg is healing and will be fine. But we had to perform a hysterectomy.
You’ll never conceive or carry a child. I’m so sorry, but it was the only way to save your life. ” The doctor’s words slice through me.
“No…” I shake my head violently. “No. No. I don’t want that. There has to be something else. Can’t you do a transplant or something? Anything?” Even as I say it, I know the answer. But I don’t care. I need to cling to hope. I need something.
“Dee, that’s not an option,” the doctor says gently. “I know this is incredibly hard, but there is some good news.”
Good news?
I blink at him, stunned.
My heart is breaking, and he’s talking about good news?
“Good news?” I spit the words like poison. “I can’t ever give Colt a family. How the fuck is that good news?” I scream the last part, and Colt flinches, his head shaking, shoulders crumbling under the weight of my pain.
The doctor continues carefully, “We were able to retrieve and freeze three of your eggs. This means with a surrogate, there’s a chance you and Colt could still have a biological child. But you won’t be able to carry the pregnancy yourself.”
My chest caves.
My breath hitches.
I huff out a bitter, broken laugh. “What the hell is the point of being a woman if you can’t even carry your own child?”
Silence.
Colt reaches for me, but I pull back, every part of me unraveling.