When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

57. Patrick

Chapter 57

Patrick

I move to Granny Sloane’s side, my movements careful, as if any sudden motion might shatter her fragile hold on life. Emmy stands quietly behind me, her hand on my shoulder the only thing that’s going to get me through these next few moments.

Leaning down, brushing a strand of her thinning, silver hair from her forehead. I kiss her gently. The wrinkle of her skin, like scrunched paper that’s been smoothed out, feels cool against my lips.

She has always been such a huge part of my life. From my earliest days, she was a constant presence, a source of love and support. When Dad died, it was Granny Sloane who stepped up, me, Mom and her working together to make sure that everyone was fed, had clean clothes to wear, school assignments were done.

She was the glue that held us together, the one who made sure we never felt alone. Her strength became the cornerstone of our family, the bedrock of our lives.

Memories hit me: the times I sat at her kitchen table, doing homework while she made dinner. Helping her with the crossword. Finding her after the first stroke. The way she let Emmy in even though she wanted to hold onto her independence.

She had a way of making everything seem manageable, no matter how hard it felt at the time. She’s a part of me, part of my existence, and so much of who I am is defined by reference to her.

Gut-wrenching pain tears across the breadth of my chest, leaving a gaping wound. Swallowing hard against the sadness tightening my throat.

“Granny Sloane. Are you awake? It’s me.”

She moans softly, a sound that tugs at me, her eyes still closed. “Is that you, Paddy? My darling son. Is that you?”

“No. It’s me, Patrick.” My voice is choked with emotion as I take her hand. “Emmy is here, too.”

Granny Sloane's eyes flutter open, the effort seeming monumental. A weak smile forms on her lips, her eyes glistening with recognition. “Patrick, my boy. You came.” She looks over my shoulder. “And Emmy.”

“We’re both here.” My hand never leaves hers.

For a moment the room is oppressively silent, the only sounds the faint beeping of the monitors and the distant murmur of hospital staff in the hallway. Leaning in closer, trying to convey all the love and gratitude I feel through the simple act of holding her hand.

Granny Sloane’s grip on my hand tightens ever so slightly, a fleeting show of strength. “You’ve grown into a fine man,” she says. “I’m so proud of you. And I’m glad you brought our Emmy back.”

Tears blur my vision, and I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure. How can this be happening? I want to plead for her to stay, but the words dry up on my lips. She’d want me to be strong. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Don’t be sad. I’m an old woman. I’ve had a good life, thanks to your mom and you kids. This is just the inevitable conclusion. ”

Emmy moves closer, our fingers intertwining like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Granny Sloane’s eyes drift to our joined hands, and she smiles again.

“I’m so happy that you both finally saw the truth we all could see. You’re perfect for each other. Love... love is the most precious thing in this world. It’s what gives our lives meaning and keeps us going. It’s the light in the darkness.”

She focuses on me, looking at me for a long moment, seeing right inside me. I’ve no doubt she can see the shift, knows how things have changed for me, how all my priorities have finally aligned in the right way.

She gives a small, affirming nod. “You made the right decision, let go of the right things. Hold on to this one. She’s special.”

I tighten my grip on Emmy’s hand, feeling the truth of Granny Sloane’s words resonate deep within me. “I will.”

“We’ll hold on to each other,” Emmy adds.

Granny Sloane nods, a peaceful expression settling over her features. “Good,” she whispers. “Love and forgive, and never take each other for granted. And Emmy?”

Emmy leans in closer. “Yes?”

Granny Sloane's smile widens just a fraction, her eyes closing as if the effort to keep them open is too much. “You can finish the crossword I left on the table.”

Emmy drags a sleeve across her eyes, laughing softly as the door opens. “Thank you, I will.”

The quiet footsteps of my family entering the room behind us: Riley and Liam, and then Mom and Nora following. Everyone moves closer, each of us reaching out to touch her in some way, forming a circle of warmth and love around her.

Riley places a gentle hand on Granny Sloane’s shoulder, while Liam reaches out, his fingers lightly brushing her wrist where it lies on the edge of the bed. Mom holds her other hand tightly, while Nora touches her arm. Emmy remains by my side, her grip grounding me as I hold Granny Sloane’s other hand .

Granny Sloane’s eyes flutter open briefly. A smile as she takes in the sight of us all gathered around her. “You’re all here,” she whispers. “Thank you... my loves.”

Her eyes close again, and there’s a sense that the end is getting closer. Death is here in the room with us, circling the bed, its presence palpable and its gaze fixed on Granny Sloane. The air itself thickens with the weight of its presence, and we all feel the inevitable truth.

For a few seconds, the room seems darker, and a chill fills the air. Her breathing grows shallower. “James... Paddy…” she murmurs, her words barely audible but filled with longing. “I’ve missed you both so much.”

We all hold our breaths, listening to her talk to her husband and son, feeling the weight of her love even after all these years. “James, remember our first dance in the high school gym? I knew you were the one, even when you stepped on my toes with those big feet of yours.”

Her words are met with silence, and Granny Sloane’s breaths become more labored, each one a struggle. “Paddy... my wild boy. I’m so proud of you... always.”

A tear slips down my cheek and Emmy leans in, her thumb gently catching it. Granny Sloane’s breathing slows further, and she smiles. Something shifts, a sense of calm washing over the room.

“I’m coming, Paddy,” she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath. “I’ll see you soon.”

Thinking about those I’ve already lost: the ache of not being there when my dad or Danny died. But being here for Granny Sloane, showing her how deeply loved she is, and bearing witness to her passing, is somehow strangely healing, especially with Emmy standing strong beside me.

Facing the very thing I’ve always run from, the ultimate pain of loss, and finding a sliver of peace in it. Being present for her final moments, giving her the love and comfort she deserves.

Emmy holding my hand, sharing the weight of it, allows me to brace myself for her death with a sense of purpose. The pain is intense, but there’s a quiet strength in being here.

The air around Granny Sloane seems to still, as if time has slowed, contracted, before exhaling in a gentle gust as she takes her last breath. A quiet sigh, a release that floats out of her body, leaving a stillness that holds the weight of her entire life.

In that suspended moment, the room is filled with sorrow and love, a bittersweet symphony that echoes from my heart, to Emmy’s, and then through each of my family members as we remain circling her.

Granny Sloane is so still. Impossibly still. As the moments stretch, the color drains from her face, leaving her looking pale and peaceful, her chest no longer rising and falling, her eyes closed.

“She’s gone,” Mom whispers. “She’s with them now.”

We stay there for a while, each of us lost in our own grief, and our shared sorrow. Granny Sloane leaving us is like an ebb tide on the shore, a graceful and inevitable receding of life’s waters.

The emptiness she leaves behind hurts like hell. But there’s comfort, too. Comfort in the knowledge Granny Sloane saw me and Emmy together, saw the profound shift in me.

Comfort in the knowledge that her last moments were with those who cherished her, who understood the full measure of her life, of the love she both gave and received.

She’s gone now, but I know she’s not alone.