“She—she—it was a drunk frat boy. He was picking up beer, fucking stoned. Stoned!” She cried and held tighter. I didn’t complain of my tight lung. “He—he fucking hit her! She was coming back to me and—and he—he…” She breaks into more tears, and the weight of her dread makes me cry too.
“Is she okay? Is she a…” Alive?
She pulls back abruptly and leans against the wall, running her long sleeve against her running nose. “Broken leg and a few broken ribs.” She shakes her head and, with shaky hands, tugs on the ends of her un-knotted dark hair. “She’s unconscious, but they say she’ll wake up anytime now. I just…I just need to see her eyes. You know. It’s like…like not seeing them is fucking killing me. Like she’s…she’s…” She bites her lip, and tears pop out of her eyes.
I hold her hands, brush my thumbs against her assorted rings. Her shoulders sag, and she tackles me for a loose, limp hug. I just hold onto her tightly.
“I know exactly what you mean. But she will open her eyes. You hear me?” I clutch her curly hair and let my eyes close. “She will be fine. But what she needs right now is for you to be by her side. So you go back in there, and I will bring you a million cronuts and coffee and teddy bears—whatever you want.”
She chuckles, and it’s pained and strained. “What I want is for her to wake up. Right now. I want her eyes, goddamnit.” She huffs, and I smile, holding in a laugh at how deranged she sounds. Like a psychopath killer demanding the eyes of his targeted victim. But she isn’t psychotic. She just wants her girlfriend to wake up, to know that she is alive and well, able to feel her kisses.
An image of me gently brushing Grey’s hair before pecking his cold, cracked lips when he was lying in a hospital bed, all bruised and broken, rushes through my mind.
I sniffle away the tears and pat her back, rubbing smoothly. “Go back to her. I’ll be right there.”
“No, no.” She frantically shakes her head, clutches my shirt. “Stay with me. Please.”
I nod and pull her back into my embrace. “Of course.” I look over my shoulder, finding Grey staring at me with a grim expression. He frowns before I wheel back around and pat my friend’s back. “Let’s go see her, huh? How about that? I’ll have Grey go fetch us something to eat. Have you eaten?”
She shakes her head no, straightening to wipe her nose. I make a note to find tissues for her. “N-no. I haven’t been able to. I just keep throwing it back up.”
“That’s okay. Some water should help. Let’s go.” I open the door behind her and gently usher her into the room. I hold back the flinch of sadness when my eyes land on Julia. A mouth tube is taped to her mouth, her leg covered in a cast and drawn up. The closer we get, the more nauseous I become. Cuts and bruises cover her pretty face.
“Oh, Liv.” Jaimie pushes her face in my chest, covering herself with my hair as we sink into two seats beside the bed. “She’s not even able to breathe by herself. What am I going to do if, if she doesn’t…oh my God.” Grief and pain and tears overtake her. Her body trembles like an earthquake. Tremor after tremor. Tsunami after tsunami.
It’s all so overwhelming. I just hold onto her, because it’s all I can do. I rub her back and whisper soothing things in her ear. Tell her that everything is going to be just fine. I don’t know that for sure, but it’s what I needed to hear. To keep from breaking. To stay whole for when he finally woke up.
Grey stands in the corner silently, watching me console her. Silent and understanding, he gives us our much-needed space. When I look over my shoulder, he is smiling at me, gesturing that he’s leaving the room. I give a quick nod and watch him leave.
What feels like an eternity passes, but the clock on the wall claims only a few hours have passed, all spent with me cradling her in my arms while she cried her tired, heavy eyes out.
“Everything’s going to be okay…” I assure Jaimie with a long kiss to her forehead.
“Will it?” she asks, her voice ripped totally raw.
I look into her eyes, stare into the soul of someone who is being threatened with having their soulmate ripped from their life. It is the worst feeling in the entire world. Worse than anything life could ever possibly ever throw at you because you’ve felt what happiness felt like. You felt that person’s touch, gazed at their radiant smiles. You felt freedom and happiness at their finest. And then…then it is slowly slipping away from your fingertips. And all you want to do is grab on and never let go, but you don’t get to do that. You can’t control life…or death.
Grey lying on a hospital bed, unconscious and eyes closed, floods my mind. My insides squeeze, nausea shaking my stomach. I take deep breaths to calm the storm inside of me, but I can’t.
“I need to use the bathroom; I’ll be right back,” I promise her. With a chaste kiss to her head, I leave her by her love’s side. Grey’s sitting on one of the uncomfortable chairs opposite the room, asleep.
After using the bathroom, which involved mild vomiting, I buy a soda to help with the bubbling in my stomach. I lean against the machine, holding the cold can of Coke against my puffy eyes. A yawn slips out of my mouth, and a soft “excuse me” from a lady waiting to use the machine makes me back away.
I roam the halls. I’m not ready to go back to Jaim’ just yet. I am going to be there for her, but I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind. All night, I’ve been reflecting on how I was in her exact position once. Helpless, puffy-eyed, nauseous…
Exhausted, I lean against a window. I take a few deep breaths and drink from the can of soda, hoping it will help. I drink the entire can, but the nausea does not relent in the slightest.
And then I hear it.
The soft cries and murmuring.
Confused, I slowly open my eyes and am shocked. Babies of all different colors. A room filled with them. All lined up in little plastic bassinets. Adorned in pink and blue blankets, and little hats and wrist tags.
The nursery. I look up at the blue sign that confirms my assumption: Nursery. I must have wandered into the maternity wing.
I push away from the window, ready to leave, when I lock eyes with one in particular. His skin is splotchy red, his eyes a vivid blue. He’s wriggling around in the blanket wrapped around his tiny body, clutching the end of his blanket. He flashes me his soft gums devoid of teeth, feet pointing through the blanket. He’s really upset. It’s incredibly cute, but also really sad.
I frown, walking close to the window. I splay my hand on it and cock my head to the left, watching as he looks me up and down and bursts into tears. Frowning deeper, I tap the window. He blinks rapidly before taking deep breaths.
I smile at him from ear to ear. “Hey, little guy,” I whisper. I wave at him.
Then guilty and a big gray cloud looms over my head. Literally. Grey…he doesn’t want him, or her, or any baby. And I…I’m fine with it. I don’t need a baby right now. I am still in school. Still building my career. And I’m not one hundred percent…fixed yet. I have a long way to go before I can truly think about having a child.
“Liv?” Grey’s voice snaps me out of my contemplative thoughts.
I wheel around and smile softly. “Grey…hey.”
His gaze is filled with confusion. Then they land on the room filled with babies behind me. And they explode with fear. Deep, wrenching fear that I’ve come to some conclusion that babies are my main priority. Not him. But he is my main priority. Always has been, always will be. Not them. Maybe in a few years. But not right now.
I assure him with a small, knowing smile as I walk over to him. I take his hand and rub the back of it. “Let’s go back to Julia. Jaimie really needs me.”
His eyes are searching for deceit, for some sign that I’m lying. Or am hiding some secret longing that will come out and punch him in the gut. But I rub my thumb on his skin some more, coaxing a small but hesitant smile on his lips.
“Okay.”
Together, we walk back to Julia’s room. My hand is on the door handle, ready to console my friend, when my
bladder feels like it’s being pushed on.
“I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be quick,” I tell Grey, holding up the empty can, as if to blame it.
“Of course…I’ll stay with her.” He kisses my hair, then enters the room.
Smiling at the idea of him being there for her, I turn on my heels and start for the bathroom again. After I use it, my stomach lurches into the toilet bowl again for the second time tonight. As I wash my face and mouth, I can’t help but wonder: what the absolute hell is wrong with me? I lean against the sink for a few minutes before I finally leave.
As I exit the bathroom, the feeling that something is off hits me like a freight train. I look around before I see a blur of dark hair and red heels disappear down the corridor to my right. Curiosity and something else unknown to me urges me to follow after. Turn after turn, I follow the blur to a room.
My heart is quivering on my tongue, my stomach a mess. What has me so nervous, so…shaken?
I shake my head and knock. If it’s nothing, then I’ll apologize and go back to where I belong.
The door pulls open…revealing my mother. Red heels, white dress, dark hair—she’s who I’ve been following. But why is she here? I thought she retired from being a surgeon? What business does she have here? And in Pennsylvania? The hospital she used to work at is an entire state over.
And then I see it.
Rather…him.
My father sitting on a hospital bed, frail and pale as a ghost. His brown eyes meet my large blue ones, and my stomach drops.
“…terminal brain cancer…” My mother’s words go in one ear and out the other, all but those three deathly words.
And then I faint.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Two weeks have passed, and I can’t get the words out of my head. Your father’s been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. They repeat on a sickening loop, over and over and over again until I literally couldn’t do anything else but relive that horrible night. I was numb, unresponsive as I held his hand as the doctor and Mother explained about…it. Cancer. The big C word that scares and ruins every single person it affects and the people surrounding them.
He had been reaching out to me, to explain, for me to be by his side while he was told his life expectancy. Which was a few years…all up until last night. He was dealing with a will when he fell to the ground. Turns out he knew about his illness but refused to tell Mother and me. Keeping it to himself for years, hoping it’d just fade away. At first, he thought it wasn’t anything big. But then it grew and grew, and…now he has less than a year.
I don’t remember ever crying so much. To the point I ran out of tears but continued to scream and cry silently. Choking on my dry throat and beating up myself. I wanted to throw myself down a hundred flights of stairs because I shut him out, turned him into this extreme villainous character that wanted to break me, when, in reality, he had expected the early end of his life and wanted to live out the rest of it with the woman he loved…Jenna.
Instead of telling us and helping him treat this vile sickness, he spent years hiding from the truth and loving her.
I feel so hurt and betrayed, but this isn’t about me. It’s about him and the fact that he doesn’t have long until it’s his…time. It hurts my brain and upsets me to think about another funeral. Another person I love so dearly leaving this earth, leaving me.
I can’t do it. I won’t be able to cope. Hell, I’m not able to cope right now, and he isn’t even gone yet…
Yet.
God, I think I’m going to throw up again.
“Gross. You smell like you’ve been showering in the sewer, then fucking in a dumpster, followed by spraying a skunk’s asshole on you,” Jaimie says in a high-pitched voice as she clutches her nose with the tips of her painted fingers. She looks me up and down like she’s debating whether or not to let me leave the bathroom.
“Why, thank you. You are the sweetest person I know,” I sass, brushing past her. I stride into the living room, sniffing my shirt. Gross. I do stink, but it’s not my fault I can’t keep anything down.
She falls onto the couch beside me.
“So how are you doing?” she asks me, eyeing me carefully.
I take a few deep breaths. “I’m doing good…I guess.” I play with my lip, then push hair behind my ears before fiddling with Grey’s charm.
“Right. Yeah. You totally don’t look like a junkie looking for her next fix.” She knocks her knee against mine, lifting an accusing brow. “Are you secretly a druggie?”
“No.” I blush at her assumption, rolling my eyes. “I just—I just don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean?”
I pull my knees up to my chest and stare at my toes. “I found out my father has terminal brain cancer. He’ll be gone in a year, maybe less. We can pray for more, but I have a feeling it’s less. Much less. And I—” I groan as I rub my palms against my eyes. “He won’t be there when I graduate college. When I…if I get married and have children. He won’t be there for anything, and I—I don’t know what to do.” A tear falls down my cheek.
“Oh, honey. Babe,” she coos, pulling me in for a tight squeeze. I melt into her soft arms and the sweet smell of shampoo and chocolate. Warm and tickled by her dark brown hair, I pull back and lean my chin on my knees. Staring at my toes. Imagining they can carry me away to a place where death isn’t allowed and my father is just always here.
“Nothing makes sense anymore, you know?” I sniffle and swipe away my tears. She rubs my knees and grasps my hands. I tug, and she tugs back, giving me a fierce look that says she will not let go. Not in a million years. I silently thank her, and she nods, a smile spreading onto her gorgeous face.
“Julia. H-how did her doctor appointment go today?” I ask, doing a little tugging of my own when she sighs heavily. She gives me a tight-lipped smile, and I play with her rings, pulling her closer. I wrap an arm around her, pulling a blanket from the couch’s arm. I pull it over our bodies, and she hums sadly.
“He says she’ll be wearing her cast for another month of two. Her ribs are healing, so I guess that’s a good thing. But damn it, she’s in pain all the time, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” She grunts and hides her face in her hands.
Ever since the accident, I’ve been spending my time here with her. Helping Julia so Jaimie doesn’t feel too pressured. I have any and all school assignments emailed to me and do them between taking care of Julia, while on days that I am expected at the office, she takes care of her. We switch off and on, so she gets some much-needed shuteye and I get as much work as I can.
Sometimes, I feel exhausted when lifting in groceries by myself as she naps after days on end of staying up and tending to her girlfriend’s needs—with the whole one lung ordeal—but I pull through, so I can be there for her. I always will be. She means the freaking world to me.
“I’m sorry about you missing out on that Milan thing,” I say.
She stops breathing, then lets out a long sigh with a shrug. “What can I do, you know? There is no way in hell I am leaving my girl when she can’t even wipe her own ass.”
I laugh. “Yes, she can.”
“Well, she needs someone to help her to the toilet. Or else she’d have to use crutches, but she’s too impatient for that, or a wheelchair,” she points out. “No designer is big enough to pry me away from my baby. She needs me.” She sighs heavily and closes her eyes, shaking her head like the world is pressing onto her shoulders a little too hard. I want to sucker punch the world. Right in the face.
“She will get better. You just said she is with her ribs. That’s a start,” I assure her as I rub her shoulders. I kiss her cheek, and she gives off a sly smirk and squinted eyes. She pokes me in the arm.
“Are you making a move on me, Olivia Westerfield?” she purrs, leaning back.
I blush so hard, I feel like I’m on fire. “No. I was just comforting you.” She bursts into laughter, and I punch her arm. She falls over onto the c
ouch, and I roll my eyes and tug the blanket off before throwing it onto her face. She just keeps laughing. “Jerk!”
She sits up quickly like a pogo stick, wrapping her arms around me, face snuggled in my hair. “Oh, don’t get mad at me, Bam. I was only kiddin’.” She kisses my cheek like a slobbery puppy.
“Ew, Jaimie!” I pry her lips off of my now splotchy red skin.
She laughs again.
My phone buzzes in my soft pajama pants. I pull it out and read the text. “Grey’s here to pick me up for classes. I have to go shower. Let him up, please?” I toss my phone onto the couch next to me after shooting him a text of the apartment number.
“Course,” she calls after me. “Enjoy your shower, my new lover!”
“What was that?” Julia yells.
“Nothing, Jules!” I yell back, throwing Jaimie daggers over my shoulder.
She cackles on the couch.
Rolling my eyes with an amused smile, I enter the bathroom. The smell does things to my already upset stomach. Stupid freaking flu. I curse the illness that’s made a round two on poor Olivia Westerfield. After cleaning the toilet until it’s spotless and burning a vanilla-scented candle, I get in the shower. I spend maybe twenty minutes scrubbing my skin and hair until I reek of strawberry and lilac.
After dressing in a simple white cashmere top, jeans, and boots, I exit the bathroom. Grey is leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for me. He’s wearing a genuine grin just for me. My heart does a triple take as I look at his usual attire: black jeans, shirt, biker boots, and his leather jacket. I smile extra big at the sewn in “G” winking at me.
“Grey.” I run over to him.
“Princess.” He laughs as he catches me with ease, spinning me around. I giggle and hold onto his neck a little tighter. He pulls back, sets me on my feet, and cups my cheeks. I am a puddle under his touch. Thumbs caress my thumbs, eyes taking me in and stealing my soul.
Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6) Page 20