Semua Bab Breath Without Me: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Tristan's POV I never made it home last night. It was late, and I was exhausted. I slept in my car for the first time, and frankly, it wasn't bad. My body is on autopilot as I dive home. I feel completely numb, and I can't stop seeing my mother's face. I drive all morning until I finally see the familiar streets of the little town I share with Walker. It is strange—within moments of crossing the town line, I swear I can feel his presence in the air. It is the first time all morning I allow myself to think of him, and it only makes me feel worse. I just got him. And now, I am going to lose him to a stupid, incurable illness. I desperately want to tell him the truth so he can hold me and tell me everything will be okay. I want to tell him so I can spend every single moment I have left on this Earth by his side. But I don't want to see the crushing pain in his eyes when I tell him I am dying. I don't want to see him break the way I am currently breaking. I don't want to watch him

Tristan's POV When I finally calm down, Walker takes a cold rag to my face. He tenderly wipes my tears before running the cloth under the cold water again. He holds the cold, damp cloth against my skin to help reduce the swelling. I had cried so hard that my face is now swollen, red, and blotchy.He never says a single word. He just takes care of me with a quiet, fierce devotion. Once he is done, he easily scoops me up into his arms and carries me to the living room couch. He lies down with me tucked against him, reaching for the remote to turn on a random movie once we are both comfortable.His large arms wrap tightly around me, pulling my back flush against his chest. He doesn't ask any questions. He doesn't pry or try to force me to explain why I just had a complete emotional breakdown in his arms. He simply lies on the couch and holds me.A comfortable silence settles over us as we snuggle. I hold his large hand close to my face, mindfully playing with his knuckles and pressing a

Walker's POV It was hard to fall asleep last night without him in my arms. Ever since that first night when we visited the pack house, he has been wrapped around my chest every night I've fallen asleep. But unfortunately, last night marked the third time I've had to sleep without him since he agreed to move in with me. Three sleepless nights without his weight pressing against me, and it was torture. I barely slept a wink.The bed was so cold and empty without him there. But as much as I didn't like it, and my wolf wanted to snarl and say no, it isn't my place to dictate where he chooses to sleep. If he wanted to sleep alone in his own bed last night, then I had to let him. I just hope he opens up to me soon and tells me what is bothering him, because I know something is wrong.I made breakfast in record time because I can't wait another second to see him. I fried the eggs over-easy just the way he likes them, so he can dip his toast into the yolks. I find it incredibly adorable the

Walker's POV I push the door open, but the moment my eyes land on the bed, my stomach drops. It is empty. For a fraction of a second, a wave of hope rushes through me: the doctor was wrong, and Tristan isn't actually here. But then, a familiar, unmistakable scent hits my nose, flooding my senses. My eyes instantly fill with tears at the sweet, addictive smell of my boy. My feet move on their own, guiding me further inside as I frantically scan the small, sterile room. My eyes snap toward the corner at the sudden sound of a toilet flushing. I can barely breathe, my chest locking tight as I listen to the sink turn on and off. Time feels like it stands still when the handle rattles, and the bathroom door slowly begins to open. Anticipation paralyzes me, but the second he steps into view, my world completely shatters. The person who walks out looks absolutely nothing like the boy I held in my arms just nine days ago. He is incredibly thin, shockingly frail, and completely bald. He g

Walker's POV I know he is sick. I can see that he is sick. But seeing how little he can manage to eat, only to throw it up seconds later, is brutal.He is even weaker now. His legs wobble as he stands and drags himself to the sink. I keep my hands firmly on his hips, anchoring him so he doesn’t collapse. His chest heaves, breathing heavily as he turns the faucet on and splashes cold water over his face.I stand there, completely helpless. My chest feels tight, like someone is squeezing my heart in a vice, making it hard to draw a full breath.“What can I do?” I asked helplessly.“Do you have any mouthwash?” he asks. His voice is barely a whisper.“Yes, I think there's some under here.” I carefully guide him half a step aside and then open the cabinet below. “Here.” I pour a small amount into a small paper cup and hand it to him He rinses, spits it into the sink, and grabs the towel to dry his face. When he looks up into the mirror, I catch the profound sadness in his eyes at seeing