The door swung open, and we burst through, all of us calling out for her.

“Lila!” I rushed toward the family room. In my periphery, I watched Andrew head right toward the kitchen, and Caroline make straight for Lila’s bedroom.

I stared after Caroline, and a few seconds later, her voice broke the fear. “In here!”

I stood frozen, afraid of what I was about to see. It shattered when I watched Andrew run out of the kitchen.

I rushed after him, my eyes frantic in their search for her as I entered the threshold.

The sight before me caused my knees to go weak, my legs threatening to give out, and my balance shifted my weight backward into the door frame, my hands grasping it for support to keep me from falling.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no! No!

Please! Please, Lila, please!

No, no! Please be okay, please be okay!

My mind was frantic, begging for hope.

Lying on the floor near the foot of the bed was Lila; her hips were twisted, shoulders against the floor, arms splayed, head tilted to the side. She was naked, just as I had left her the night before.

Her pale skin showed the deep bruises of my body’s assault on hers. I had been too hard, too rough, too much. I was out of control, and I knew it.

The world stopped—everything stopped—when I reached her eyes. Her beautiful gray-green eyes were open, the lids unable to close. They were glazed over, empty, flat, void.

Images of a night years before, another set of eyes, flooded my mind.

Empty.

Void.

Dead.

My stomach turned, and I propelled my body to the adjoining bathroom to heave into the toilet. I hadn’t eaten, so only bile and acid were expelled; my stomach retched to purge my mind.

My ears were ringing, and I couldn’t hear anything that Caroline and Andrew had said from the moment I saw her lying on the ground.

Caroline’s voice erupted, breaking through. “Mike, call 911! Oh, Lila!”

“Is she breathing? Please say she’s breathing!” Andrew begged.

“She is! Lila? Can you hear me? Lila?”

I wiped my mouth and walked back into the bedroom where my Lila lay, alive but unresponsive.

“Goddamn son of a bitch!” Andrew roared before his fist collided with my jaw.

I stumbled back against the wall. His hand grabbed at my suit and brought me back up to face him.

“This is what you fucking said to her?” He held up the letter I’d left her. “I thought you understood her. I thought you cared for her. You fucking destroyed her!” He looked at me with absolute contempt, and his tone was murderous. “You fucking stay away from her. You don’t talk to her, you don’t fucking look at her.” For a moment, I got a reprieve from his animosity as he turned to look at Lila’s lifeless form. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“It’s better this way,” I whispered as Caroline covered her body.

“Like fucking hell it is! She was getting better, we could all see it. That was your doing. You were healing her. Now…she’s barely functioning.”

My stomach clenched again, my breath catching. “I warned her from the beginning. I begged her to go. I hurt her, Andrew.”

“You did this to her. She trusted you. You know what happened to her and you just confirmed everything they ever told her. You knew how broken she was, and you went and fucking crushed her. You were healing her, and now? She may not recover from this.” He was seething, glaring down at me, his nostrils flared.

The room remained quiet after Andrew stopped yelling at me. We waited on pins and needles for the paramedics to come and take her away. I couldn’t drive, and Andrew wanted nothing to do with me so he grabbed Lila’s keys and took her car, while Caroline shoved me into my car and drove us. We arrived at the hospital not long after the ambulance.

Since I wasn’t family, they wouldn’t tell me a thing no matter how many people I cursed, yelled, and spat at. It was a nightmare, one from which I was afraid I might never wake up.

Sometimes it was good when members of your family worked at a hospital, but sometimes it wasn’t. The times when you screwed up and destroyed a beautiful woman? There they were without invitation.

My mother looked at me with such pity, while my father looked disappointed.

We’d been there about an hour when a familiar form walked down the hall toward us.

“Darren?”

“Nathan?” Darren Morgenson, my therapist and friend, wrapped his arms around me in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I fucked up.” The words slipped out, because that was all that was going through my head.

He pulled back and studied my face. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, diverting talk away from me. I didn’t think I had it in me to tell him I’d destroyed my own heart and an innocent one in the process.

“I got a call, one of my patients. Poor girl’s had a breakdown, it seems.” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her in months, and now this. She’s so fragile; I always wondered when she’d break.”

My eyes widened, and my stomach dropped. “Lila Palmer?”

I begged to all the Gods that I wasn’t right, but I already knew I was. Darren was her therapist as well. I’d seen his name plastered all over her medications.

He blinked at me. “Yes. How did you know?”

“He’s the fucker who broke her,” Andrew said from behind me, sticking his hand out for Darren.

“Hey, Andrew, how are you doing?” Darren asked, trying to hide the momentary look of frustration toward me regarding my actions that caused all of the fuckery that was going on. His eyes shifted to Andrew.

I exhaled, and my shoulders rounded forward, crumpling in on myself. Every moment away from Lila made my bones ache and my muscles tense up. Yet, there I stood—rooted in place, helpless to do anything to change any of it.

Andrew’s lips were set in a thin line. “I’d be doing a lot better if Lila was at the office.”

Darren nodded in understanding. “I take it you know what happened.”

Andrew jerked his head in my direction. “Like I said, he’s responsible. You’ll need to ask him.”

I tried to meet Darren’s gaze, but I couldn’t. I was drowning in my shame.

“What is he talking about?” Darren turned to me. “Look at me, Nate. What the fuck is he saying?”