Chapter Thirty-Two

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June 1st, 2014



The hospital was crowded, with everyone filing around from room to room, but nobody would tell me what was going on. I held my head in my hands, being too afraid to look up and accidentally hear someone say that he died. I was shaking again. I could barely even hear key words, everything was too loud in my head.

He could be gone, he could be gone.

Why didn't I know anything? Was he really that sad? I couldn't believe this. I was sitting in a hospital because my new boyfriend possibly committed suicide. I was either scared for him, or me. If I only I figured out the message earlier, I would have been able to go over there and stop him. Or I could have at least visited over the time he was missing, maybe that would have changed his mind. I felt so guilty.

The blue notebook was beside me, untouched since I got here ten minutes ago. I still hadn't talked to anyone, nor had anyone talked to me. His room was two down from where I sat. I was too scared to get up and walk in, afraid that I wouldn't see him, or he'd be dying.

When he was sick, he looked like death almost back then. But now, I couldn't even imagine.

Crying made everything worse, yet I couldn't stop crying. I never cried this much. I'd known Luke since last October, and now it was like he was my husband of twenty years or something. I had every right to be upset.

I glanced quickly over to the blue notebook, remembering what he wrote in there, for me.

I've finally found someone who makes me happy. And I want her to know that even if I'm not there, that she shouldn't be sad, she should be happy, because she knows she made me happy.

I kept crying, now realising that I didn't care what people thought of me when they passed by.

He could be gone, he could be gone.

He didn't deserve the life he lived, and I never got a chance to see him try and fix everything. I knew I wouldn't be able to, only he could do that. But I was never there enough.

"Paige?" I'm starting to hear things. Get him out of my head, I thought. There was a figure standing down the hall to my right, though, they were watching me. "What are you doing here?" It was his voice. It couldn't be. "Paige."

Finally, I couldn't bare hearing his voice in my head anymore, so I looked over at the figure, and I swore I was going to choke out another sob.

"Luke?" I whispered in the weakest voice I could muster. A small smile appeared on his face but it then faded. I didn't care if he was some sort of figment of my imagination, I still ran towards him and into his arms with maniacal sobs.

"Why are you here?" he asked a second later, still not bothering to break up the strongest hug we ever shared.

"I thought it was you," I cried. "I thought they were taking you." He didn't speak for what felt like ages, and I was still crying. Luke's hands clutched the back of my sweatshirt, to hold me closer as his head ducked down into my neck.

"Please don't cry," he mumbled in a worried tone, not to mention that he voice was cracking. "I'm here, I'm alright. And so are you." I lifted my head from his chest so I could look at him, and he had tears in his eyes, too. Then I looked to his lips, which were exceptionally kissable at this moment in time. It was a little odd, though, even though I knew I wouldn't be fully convinced that he was beside me until I kissed him.

I kissed him three short times because I was crying way too much.

"Why were they a-at your house?" I asked, looking up to find him looking down on me already.

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