Chapter 122: Chapter 122

The teardrop from my face at the doctor's last words and I can't help the rasped cry that leaves my mouth and I take to my heel, running as fast as my legs can take me out of the hospital, past the host of reporters and onto the side of the road. I have no idea where I'm running to, all I know is I have to get away from here as far as possible. I just keep running and not stopping for any reason even as my breath grows faint, I just need to get out of the hospital, the state, country and if possible the world.

"Taylor!" I hear Keenan's voice call and when I turn around I see him running after me. I shake my head and keep the pace up, but somehow he seems to keep getting even closer with every step.

Why is he chasing me, he should let me be for once. He doesn't understand that I need to be alone, I deserve to be alone. How am I ever going to get over what has happened?

"Taylor you need to stop please," he yells aloud, but I don't stop, I can't. Not anymore.

My legs begin to give up on me and I slow down, feeling my breath getting shorter and shorter and my legs loses their balance, I fall hard face down at the side of the road and I stay there weeping and crying my eyes out.

"Taylor!" comes Keenan's breathless voice as he tries pulling me up, but I pull away stubbornly at his touch.

"Leave me alone, Keenan, let me suffer. I deserve to suffer a great deal," I cry harder on the ground, my heart feeling shattered beyond repair.

I am going to be hunted by this for as long as I live and it's going to be my nightmare.

Keenan's strong hands take my shoulder captive and pull me up, ignoring my stubborn protest.

"Let me suffer! God took Rory to punish me, That is my fault, Keenan! Don't you get it? Rory is dead because of me." I yell at him, hoping he finally get my point.

He let me go and I turn away from him and begin to walk down the road aimlessly, just like a wanderer I've become. I need to be away from him, from everyone and everything. Some passerbys in their cars cast me a weird look and I just ignore them like they deserved. No one knows my pain or my anguish right now.

I did this to myself and the guilt is killing me.

How am I going to tell my daughter that her father whom she only got to know about yesterday is now dead? How will she look at me when she finds out the role I played in his death?

"Taylor, stop!" Keenan calls again and I stop in frustration.

"What?!"

"Rory isn't dead." He says, but the zapping of the cars passing by makes his words hard to understand.

My brow rises, really not hearing him clearly and he walks towards me, putting his arms around me for support before repeating, "Rory is not dead" to me.

I yank myself away from his arms and move back getting angry that he would choose to make a mockery of Rory's memory in my face. How can he see a situation like this as fun?

I don't know who I'm mad at the most, him or myself.

"It's not funny, Keenan, I was there, I heard everything the doctor said and it was just as Mycole predicted, 8:20 a.m." I point out to him.

He moves closer, but this time I move back. "No, you didn't, Taylor. Whatever you heard wasn't Rory's death call, it was someone involved in an accident who was rushed into the hospital about an hour ago." He explains carefully. "Rory is no longer in that ward."

My heart begins to ease from pain at his word and I look at him with hopeful but questioning eyes, "Where's Rory then?"

.

(Rory's POV)

I wake up to the sound of the heart monitor beating slow and steadily beside me and slowly my eyes peel themselves open and at first everything is a blur, but it soon begins to get clearer and soon everywhere becomes a cleared up view. I notice someone at the side of my bed with their head on the bed probably and my first guess is Taylor, but I also notice she's having golden blonde hair instead of her brunette one and she is also wearing a thick, black hoodie and a smile crawls into my face.

She's not just any Taylor, she's the Taylor I fell in love with, the Taylor that wore baggy clothes to keep every other attention that isn't mine away. The Taylor that many called naïve, but who was smart and wise. She was the innocent and lovely, the Taylor I couldn't get enough of.

If this is heaven, I'm okay with it.

I begin to move my hand on the bed, trying to move it over to her, into her hair, to have a feel of it, but I can't seem to be able to. I try again, but I still can't lift it. I grit my teeth and I struggle with myself on the bed only giving up as I begin to feel exhausted.

"Fuck!" I cuss and this makes Taylor's head rise from where she is resting it and she looks at me.

Relief rushes down her face and her blue eyes behind the glasses she has on grows tender as they behold me with love and so much more.

"I'll call the doctor," she says, getting up from her chair and going to the door and pulling at the knob.

She's getting away, I may still be alive, but my heaven is getting away and I didn't fight to live just to hear her leave in the first few seconds of seeing her.

"No, stay here, let me spend my first moments with you," I tell her and she gives me a sceptical look. "Letting the doctors think I'm still unconscious for the next ten minute isn't going to be so bad." I wink at her. "it'll be our very own secret."

She rolls her eyes, but a blush appears on her face and she let go of the doorknob.

"I hate when you convince me to do the wrong thing," she grumbles as she walks back to her chair and takes my hand into hers and brings it to her lips and graze it with little tingling kisses.

"Admit it, you love it."

She moves her head from side to side in denial, "No, I love you." she counters.

"Same thing."

She laughs, "Why was your first word a cuss?" She asks with a worried frown.

I knew Taylor wasn't going to let the lack of control I had over my mouth slide and I didn't have expected her to.

I sigh in remorse, "'Cause I wanted to run my fingers through your hair and I realised my hands were numb and I couldn't move it, forgive my manners."

She smiles warmly at me, her first smile and though I had seen it before, I just realized that her eyes are blue also, but before I can begin to comment on that, she takes my hand into her hair, and my eyes shudder close at how soft and silky her hair is, "Like this?" She asks and I moan.

"Oh yeah, just like that! I cannot wait to tug on them when we kiss and make sweet love." I admit with seriousness and she takes my hand out of her hair. I open my eyes to see her giving me the wide-eyed look, "What? I'm just being honest."

She rolls her eyes, but smiles, "Instead of thinking about sex and kissing and focusing on every other naughty thought going through your head, how about we work on you getting your strength back?"

I chuckle, "You are always a buzzkill, Ms Snowfall." I remind her, emphasizing the buzz kill.

She wasn't a buzz kill though, she was just not one to joke with the important stuff, she wasn't like me and that's one of the things I love about her.

She pushes my rib a little, making me squeak out uncontrollably, "No, I'm not, I just want you in full recovery first." she says, slowly looking down.

"How long has it been?" I ask, referring to how long I've been unconscious.

"Four days," she answers understanding my question even without much emphasis.

My brow furrows with interest, "And you have been here ever since?"

She bites down on her lips before looking up, "Yeah, these four days have been filled with intense pain, suffering and agony as I fear that I might still lose you or that you might never wake up."

My heart goes out to her and I cannot even begin to imagine the level of fear and confusion and thought that went through her head all the while he was unconscious and there was no guarantee he would wake.

"You should have known better that it won't be easy getting rid of me from your life." I tease lightly.

She looks at me in horror, maybe wondering how I can make jokes with such a thing, "You almost died and did you know how miserable I felt? I felt guilty and I counted every minute and every hour in anticipation that you wake. You don't play with things as delicate as your life. If for any reason I do anything stupid like last week in the future, I'd rather have you protect yourself than risk your life, especially when I'm stubborn and rebellious." She snaps before exhaling.

"I'll never choose me over you, besides we are both very stubborn," I say, squeezing her hand in mine.

She snorts loudly, "Take me and shake me out of it and make my head comes down from its craziness, of which and I rather have that than lose you."

Although the laugh causes weakness for my body, I can help her sense of reasoning. "You will never lose me, not until we are old and stricken with age then you might." I assure her, "So you stayed with me throughout."

"Yeah, I kinda did," She nods her going becoming small again before adding, "besides I've had nowhere else to go."

My brow draws together, "What about the companies?"

"I signed them back to you along with the house." She murmurs and she looks to the floor.

I frown, pulling my head up from the side I had placed it earlier because my neck is beginning to hurt and I stare at the ceiling. "Why?" I finally ask.

"I took them because I thought I needed them, but the truth is I don't, I only need you. They cannot be equal to you and I've been shown how much you mean to me this past four days." I can feel the truth and sincerity coursing through her vein like an overflowing river as she says this.

My eyes close briefly with my heart beating for love, "I love you, Taylor, so much." I say, opening my eyes and turning to look at her again, as the pain in my neck eases up.

Her eyes soften as she smiles at me, "I love you too, Rory, forever."

"Does that mean you will still marry me?" I ask with expectancy.

Her face breaks into a wider smile, "I thought you would never ask."

My mouth twitches in a quick thought, "That was because I was waiting for the right moment my love and by the way, I love your newish-old look." I comment, my eyes interestingly explore her from hair to clothes.

She blushes, "I decided my old dressing style was better, somehow you loved this better too."

I shrug indefinitely at her correct discovery, "I love all kinds of you, hun, I just seem to have preference. Badass Taylor should come alive in the bedroom and only when the need arises." She draws closer and places a tender, but a delicate kiss on my forehead and although I was hoping for the lips instead, I'm not complaining.

"I'll call the doctors now." She says before leaving the room.