paramedics took me in the ambulance. I wish he would come back to me. I feel so, empty, inside.
It was six hours later when we finally heard from the surgeon. I didn’t even hear his words, because the look of sadness, and pity on his face said enough; I fainted dead away.
It has been three weeks since that horrible day. Travis and Rick’s family handled the funeral because I couldn’t barely move. My heart was broken and my tears constantly flowed.
I woke up this morning in the O’Connell family mansion when I was running to the bathroom. I was vomiting like crazy. I hardly ate since that day, I felt like a big part of me died that day, his family had to force me to eat. This was the second day in a row. I thought it was because I every night I would wake up from the nightmare, missing Rick. His parents had taken me in. I moved into his old bedroom, just to hold on to some part of him.
I heard footsteps behind me, followed by the water from the sink running, then off. “Drink this.” I nearly jump out of my skin.
It was Rick’s uncle John. “My dear, don’t be scared. I know what you meant to my nephew and now you have a little one coming too.”
I took the water from him and it dawned on me we hadn’t used anything in our short time together. “I am pregnant.”
Epilogue:
It had been the fastest eight months of my life and now my little Rick was here. “Don’t you look just like your daddy, little man?” I was proud as I stared down at my son.
My son, just to think I almost missed this opportunity.
In walked Travis and Claire, and I knew that I would have to pass the baby on to them. I didn’t want to, I had just got rid of the others that came to see him, but they came all the way from Texas, after all.
“Let me hold my nephew.” I handed her my little man.
“How are you feeling?” I looked at her like she was crazy, I had been asked that question for the last eight months, but for the first time since then, nothing bothered me.
“I am great. Actually, never better. Look at my son.”
“Yes, he looks just like you, poor baby.” Travis was still an asshole. Even when I had finally woken up from a coma, he was still a prick. I woke up to find out that he was fucking my sister. It was more than fucking, but I still like to think of my sister as a little girl.
I remember the moment when I woke. My vision was blurry, but I could see my Red staring back at me. I had a pounding headache that lasted for about a week, but seeing her had made everything better. She had been there every day, while I was under, until they kicked her out, which was well after visiting hours. I spent three weeks in a coma, and my poor Samantha thought I wouldn’t survive. I swear I had never been kissed so much. Not that I was complaining, I just didn’t want my Red, getting tired of kissing my broken ass.
I found out that I had been shot in the head and in the chest. They said it was because of my Red that I survived. It seems that the one that had struck me, in the head, had grazed her arm and slowed the bullet down. The bullet had cracked my skull, but thankfully, had not penetrated my brain. I had a nasty scar on the side of my head that most of my hair covered, but my wife was still willing to tolerate my ugly mug.
My family came to see me, one after the other. When my sister came in, I told her I needed a haircut. Once they said it was okay, she gave me a haircut as Sam, stood by me. I got to hold Red’s hand, this time, as I stared at her.
When I was out in the land of nod, Roger and Uncle John had found out that it was a Turkish group of militants that had murdered Sam’s parents and tried to kill us. It seemed those two became unlikely allies. The Turks had paid for my Samantha, just like the other men. When I had soiled her, they were out lots of money and a bride. They considered her, ruined, and now a whore. We had found out that one of the maids at the Lake residence had been in contact with people