Until the Last Breath

The cold November wind sliced through Amelia’s coat as she stood on the edge of the pier, waves crashing violently below. Her fingers trembled, not from the chill, but from the ache blooming deep in her chest—a hollow ache that had settled there the day he left. She thought time would dull the pain, but every breath without him felt like glass cutting her from the inside out.

She remembered the day she met him. Caleb. The boy with the sharp jawline and softer eyes—eyes that held storms behind them. He was trouble wrapped in a leather jacket and a crooked smile, and Amelia, with her carefully planned life, should have known better. But knowing better had never stopped her heart from skipping when he called her name.

"Amelia." His voice had always lingered like a promise, like the taste of something forbidden. And she had wanted all of it—the chaos, the fire, the danger. Even when it burned her.

They spent endless nights tangled together in the back of his truck, whispering dreams under star-stitched skies. He swore he’d never leave her. But promises mean nothing when the world is set against you.

The night he walked away was carved into her memory like a wound that refused to heal. He had tasted like whiskey and heartbreak when he kissed her goodbye.

"I’m no good for you," he had said, his voice cracking as his hands shook against her skin.

"I don’t care," she had whispered, tears burning her throat. "You’re everything to me."

But love had never been enough to save them.

And now—now he was gone. Two years, and Amelia still dreamed of him. Still traced the ghost of his touch along her skin. She told herself he wasn’t coming back.

Until the phone call.

A hospital. His name. An accident.

The words rang in her head as she raced through the sterile hallways, the scent of antiseptic clawing at her throat. When she found his room, her heart nearly stopped.

Caleb. Pale. Broken. But still him.

His eyes fluttered open, and when they met hers, the world shifted back into place.

"I didn’t think you’d come," he rasped. His voice was rougher, edged with pain.

"You think I could stay away?" Her breath hitched as she sat beside him, afraid to touch him, afraid he’d disappear.

A weak smile ghosted his lips. "I wanted to protect you, Amelia. But all I did was break us."

Her tears fell silently, splashing against his trembling fingers as she held his hand. "You broke me, Caleb. But I still love you. I never stopped."

A shudder ran through him as he clung to her words. "I’m so tired," he confessed, and the vulnerability in his voice shattered her.

"Then rest," she whispered, pressing her lips to his knuckles. "I’m here. I’m not leaving again."

His breathing slowed, and fear coiled around her heart like a vice.

"I love you," he murmured. And then, his fingers slackened in hers.

The monitor screamed, an echo of her heart tearing apart.

"No—Caleb—please—"