BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part Four Read Free Page B

must have been something about him, after all. His childhood tenacity must have lingered around after all; it must have aided in giving him the will to continue on, fight harder and longer to see a new day of adventure, of exploration, and of success.
    I just hoped, more than anything, that his will would somehow find the light at the end of the tunnel from all of this. I hoped he would survive it, no matter how far the light seemed, no matter how much it didn’t seem to exist.
    And I knew as soon as I began to hope for it, that it was such a foolish wish.
    People died.
    Life wasn’t a fairytale.
    And cancer didn’t give a damn who it took.
    But somehow, I still found a piece of me holding onto some sort of hope that something like this would never happen again… and that he’d be better just like he was a majority of the time. Only he’d be better all the time. He’d be cured.
    I had to think that the willpower he held was strong enough for anything. I wanted to have faith in that, despite knowing that logically having hope was useless.
    “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, bringing me back to the present. I hated that I hadn’t already been in the present; I knew that I should have been there with him; I knew that I should have taken advantage of every moment I had with him. I wanted desperately for him to be alive and well in the future, but who even knew if there would be much more of a future.
    I had to live in the present.
    A tear fell from the brim of my eye as I nodded and looked at him once again. I sighed, taking the sight of him as well as our surroundings.
    The hospital room was depressing—white and cold, quiet yet loud. I could hear footsteps all around, and machines clicking and beeping beside me. Yet, it was painfully quiet.
    And I hated more than anything to look at such a beautiful god of a man and see him there, pale white and weak. Derek Sholts was the epitome of strength and intimidation. But yet, there he was, broken… on a hospital bed, barely conscious.
    I felt him shiver beside me and immediately, in an instinctive impulse, I snapped out of my thoughts once again and looked directly at him.
    “Are you cold?” I asked, hurriedly, concern caked all in my voice.
    He nodded a bit, but then I watched as his eyes fluttered shut, clearly too weak and tired to stay awake for any longer than he already had.
    I stood and walked towards the large wooden door, which had remained half-closed to see if I could find someone. I looked through the opened part of the door, cocking my head around the corner, hoping that I might find a doctor or nurse.
    But there was no one in sight.
    No one except for Dr. Freeman.
    He stood just outside, his back half turned, as if standing guard, and I cringed as I watched him just stand there. He looked unnerved, completely composed with his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed, looking straight out and into the hallway. In all honesty, I couldn’t help but wonder if he even really gave a damn about Derek; and not only that, but his lack of worry and lack of compassion worried me. It made me wonder what kind of person he really was; and if he really was hiding something.
    I looked back over my shoulder to see if he was still shivering, but he had fallen into another deep slumber. I sighed; I hated that he was asleep already. I wanted just a little longer with him; and immediately I cursed myself for drifting in and out of thoughts while he was awake.
    I watched him as he slept and noticed his breaths were labored and slow—much more than usual as he slept.
    Without thinking anymore, my body shifted back towards the bed. I kneeled beside him and intertwined my fingers with the hair that fell just at his neckline. Leaning in, I kissed him softly on the lips. I kissed him softly, but more passionately than I think I ever had…not because there were dueling tongues or lustful fervor, but because all of my emotions, my fears, my love, my compassion, and my pity—it all