Chapter 48

I hold Ameline's hand,our fingers intertwined, as the medical team bustles around us, preparing her for surgery. The sound of the beeping machines fills the air. But all I can focus on is the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat, rumbling through the room like a frantic drum.

"You should calm down, baby," I whisper. "It's going to be okay."

Then, suddenly, I see Jude entering the room. I glare at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought you could use some company since your roommate"—he pauses, glancing at Ame—"is getting sliced open and all that shit."

I clench my jaw and keep my eyes fixed straight ahead before I punch him. Jude shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing at me sidelong. "Just thought you could use some company."

Ameline's knuckles bleach white from her grip on the bed railing. I wrap my fingers over hers. "Everything's going to be okay," I repeat.

She meets my gaze, eyes glassy. "And if it's not? There are so many complications to this surgery."

"You're with the best surgeons in the country." I give her hand a gentle squeeze, wishing I could squeeze the fear right out of her. "And if you come out of this without remembering a thing, I'll remind you of it all."

"Maybe it's better if I don't remember." Her voice wavers. "Maybe it'll be a blessing to forget it all."

"You don't mean that," I say softly, at the thought of her not knowing me, or loving me.

Her lips twitch in a sad imitation of a smile. "Let's hope for the best."

As they wheel her, I begin to follow. Jude grabs my arm. "Where are you going? Let's go to the private waiting room."

I pull free. "I'm watching from the observation deck. Got permission from my residency director since this is a teaching hospital."

Jude's brows pinch together. "You sure that's a good idea?"

I turn on my heel, pushing through the doors. "Better than waiting out here."

His footsteps resonate behind me as we make our way up the metal staircase leading to the observation deck—my pulse thrums in my ears, drowning out the squeak of Jude's shoes on the steps.

I settle into one of the chairs lining the observation window, my knees bouncing with nervous energy. Jude lowers himself into the seat beside me.

Below us, Ameline lies motionless on the operating table, her hair tucked under a surgical cap. The doctors and nurses hover over her, scalpels and retractors glinting under the bright lights.

My stomach lurches as the neurosurgeon's blade slices into her skin, blood welling around the incision. I grip Jude's arm, bile rising in my throat.

He doesn't pull away, his own face drained of color. "Breathe, man," he murmurs.

I suck in a ragged breath, unable to tear my eyes away as they saw open her skull. One slip of the hand and everything that makes Ameline who she is could be lost forever.

Jude's fingers wrap around mine. "We should wait outside."

Swallowing hard, I shake my head. There's no place I would rather be. Ameline needs me here, with her. I force myself to study the monitors, tracking her vitals and watching for any sign of trouble.

As long as her heart keeps beating, there's hope. She just has to make it through this surgery. Then I'll be there when she wakes, ready to remind her of everything she means to me.

But right now, Ameline looks small and fragile. The fears begin to cripple me though. What if she doesn't wake up the same? What if I've lost the chance to make new memories together? What if . . .?

My breath catches as the heart monitor emits a shrill tone. "What's happening?" I demand, pressing my face against the glass.

The surgeons exchange words I can't make out. One shakes their head, features grim.

"No!" I pound my fist on the window. "Ameline, baby don't leave."

Jude grabs my shoulders. "Getting yourself kicked out won't help."

I shove his hands away, panic rising. The heart monitor flatlines. Time seems to slow, the electronic tone deafening in the silence.

"No," I whisper, sinking to my knees. "Please, no."

Jude crouches beside me. "Gabe . . . what can I do for you?"

I bury my head in my hands, refusing to accept it."Ame, don't leave me."

She can't be gone.

She can't be gone.

A sob rips from my chest. I've lost her. My world is shattered.

What happened to forever?

Forever is just a fucking lie.

* * *

The conclusionof the Impossibly Possible duet is coming soon

Continue reading THE TRUTH ABOUT US>>> here

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Claudia Burgoa brings the conclusion of the Impossible Possible duet with The Truth About Us.

Every night, I find myself caught between dreams and wakefulness.

Yearning for a past that slips through my fingers.

Each night, whisper prayers into the darkness.

Longing for just one kiss, one more touch . . .

Longing for her.

Maybe forever is a lie.

The truth is that tragedy will always break your heart.

But maybe, this time, I can build something greater out of tragedy.

Maybe . . . just maybe love isn't as lost as I once thought.

And maybe forever might still happen to me.

The final book in the Impossible Possible duet examines grief, loss, and ultimate love put to the test.

* * *