As I make my way back to Kate’s room from the cafeteria, I pass Leslie in the hallway.
“Damian?” she says, stopping me.
“Yeah?”
I smile at her again, enjoying how my abrupt change in demeanor is freaking her out.
“Um…” She blinks. Then twists and points in the direction of Kate’s room, not saying anything comprehensible. “Uh…”
Damn, she’s flustered. It’s freaking hilarious.
“Leslie,” I say, “I know that since Kate’s been here, I haven’t been working, which adds to your load, and I’m sorry about that. If you need me for anything, you know where to find me.”
Leslie’s jaw drops open for a nanosecond before she snaps it closed. I may have overdone that offer. Too much too soon.
I don’t wait for a reply, but continue down the hall.
See? I can be a decent human being. Like Kate.
Like Liam.
~*~
That evening, I order in pizza for the Browdys, the nursing staff, and myself. The confused expressions on some of the nurses’ faces were golden. This was not the same person who smashed a hospital window last month and showed up drunk on a weekly basis.
I even gathered up all the empty carry-out boxes and took them to the janitor’s closet. Talk about going the extra mile.
Now, it’s midnight and Marcy is asleep on the other bed. I’ve had my phone on silent all day, in case Ellie tried to call. How can I be a saint and tend to Liam’s girlfriend at the same time? I haven’t figured that part out yet, but the last thing I want to do is have to apologize to Kate again.
I stuff the phone in my back pocket without looking at it. Then, two minutes later, I dig it back out and check the messages. There’s only one. From Ellie:
Me too.
This is her response to my floral apology, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why she’s sorry. I’m the one who took advantage of her, yelled at her, and left her alone in the parking lot.
I don’t dwell on it, though. I’m too tired. Being the good ol’ boy is exhausting. How could Liam stand it? I slide the phone back into my pocket and rest my head over my arms on top of Kate’s bed. I’m asleep in no time.
Day 5
I grimace at the sunlight that pours into the room, waking me up. When Liam was alive, he’d get up at the butt crack of dawn and either run or swim before anyone else was up. Sometimes, he’d even have breakfast made for everyone. Maybe the new Liam-Damian hybrid I’m working on can leave that part out. I’m not a morning person.
“Good morning.” Marcy’s voice greets me, and I squint at her. She’s already showered, dressed, and back on her laptop, nursing a cup of coffee.
“Right,” I answer, rubbing a palm down my face. I need to wake up, get ready, and do a repeat of yesterday. No mistakes today.
I grab my bag and head to the private bathroom. For a hospital, the water pressure in the shower is pretty decent. When I’m shaved and dressed, I wear a content expression that doesn’t belong to me and walk out, ready to fetch some breakfast for Marcy and me.
“I’m thinking biscuits and gravy today,” I say, dropping my bag in the far corner of the room. “What can I bring up for you, Marcy?”
She takes a sip of coffee and peers at me from over the rim. It takes a few seconds before she speaks. When she does, her motherly tone shines through.
“Damian, that’s very sweet, but I already ate. Why don’t you go ahead?”
Hesitant, my gaze skims over Kate. Even though her mom will be with her, I hate to leave. My record shows that I screw up when I leave this room, and I’m trying so damn hard to be deserving of her. Hell, I barely recognized myself yesterday.
But, as much as I dislike hospital food, I’m starving, and really, their biscuits aren’t too bad.
“Okay. I’ll be right back,” I say, mostly to Kate.
On the first floor, I round the corner into the cafeteria. I load my plate, grab an apple for later, and swipe my hospital ID card with the cashier. As I go to take my food upstairs, I see Ellie out of the corner of my eye. She’s sitting by herself in the far corner of the cafeteria, her gaze trained outside. I should stay on my trajectory as planned, but then Ellie bows her head, covering her face with her palms. Instantly, I divert and walk toward her instead.
I stay focused on her as I cross the room. She doesn’t move. Except when I get closer, I see her shoulders trembling. Her hands muffle the soft sobs.
“Ellie?” I say quietly so I don’t startle her.
She sniffles and dabs a napkin over her cheeks. I slide my tray onto the table and pull out a chair opposite her. She doesn’t acknowledge me, keeping her head down.
“What’s going on?” I ask when she doesn’t speak.
Ellie purses her lips and stares at her untouched food. I don’t know why she doesn’t want to look at me, so I scoot into the chair right beside to her and reach my hand up to her face, turning her head to me.
“What happened, Elle?” I ask again.
Whenever something goes wrong, Ellie tries to get a hold of me, but the last text I received from her was two nights ago.
Her eyes close, and a tear slips from one of them. I hold her chin between my thumb and forefinger, so when she opens her eyes, she’ll see me. See that I’m here for her.
Ellie’s lips tremble as she works to contain her sobs. Eventually, though, her eyelids lift, and I’m staring into the blue irises that I’ve grown to know so well. They glisten with moisture.
This moment, right here, takes me back to the nights when she broke down in my bedroom after Liam died. Ellie is hurting, and the fact that she won’t talk to me about it frustrates me. For the last two years, she’s come to me with everything, even stupid girly shit that I don’t give a rat’s ass about.
And for two years, I’ve been there for her.
“Come on, Ellie, talk to me,” I encourage her, my voice low and void of the irritation I feel over her silence.
It takes her a few seconds, and I can see in her expression that she’s debating whether to tell me or not. Finally, she sighs.
“My dad…he, uh…” She licks her lips, holding the bottom one between her teeth. “The stroke did a lot of damage to his brain. He can’t walk. He can barely talk, and Damian…”
Tears fall down her cheeks, and I let go of her chin to wipe them away.
“He doesn’t remember me,” she breathes out. She pauses, holding her breath. As she exhales, she reaches for me. Her face burrows into my neck making her next words barely audible. “I can’t do this again, Damian. I can’t lose anyone else.”
I get it. God, I get it.
Ellie and I understand pain, how it eats at you until there’s no other option than to numb it before it consumes you. They say that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but for us, it’s only taught us that we can’t handle this. Both of us are weak. Too weak to survive another round of heart-wrenching pain.
I hold her close and kiss her head. Like Ellie’s dad, Kate’s still alive, yet every second that passes and she doesn’t wake up, I feel her slipping away. I don’t know if she hears me, and if she does, does she equate my voice with me? Am I in her dreams like she’s in mine?
I don’t know what to say to comfort Ellie. Liam would know, but I’m not good at this stuff. Instead, I tighten my arms around her to protect her because I can’t fix this. Not the way I used to.
I lean my head against hers, allowing my mind to wander to Kate and me. I’m with Ellie instead of her again. And I’m justifying it by telling myself it’s because I’m keeping my promise to my brother, but I’m beginning to think I might be lying to myself. In all honesty, Ellie is comfortable. Safe.
Kate isn’t.
Kate is a stick of dynamite, and leukemia is holding the detonator.
But I've made up my mind; I’m going to be there for Kate. All the way. Until she tells me otherwise.
Ellie unwraps her arms from around my neck and lean
s back in her chair. “I’m sorry, Damian. I just have a lot on my mind right now,” she says, drying her face with her sleeve.
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine, Elle.” My next words spill out before I can stop them. “Whenever you need me, I’ll be here for you.”
Her eyes cut to me, and she holds my gaze. She knows me well, knows I’ve been distracted lately. She’s not sure whether to believe my offer, and quite frankly, neither am I.
Slowly, she nods. “Your breakfast is cold,” she says, changing the subject.
“It’s okay. I’m not hungry anyway.” My appetite has faded completely. I slide the tray across the table and pick it up. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“Yeah, go,” she says, folding both hands around her Styrofoam coffee cup. “You probably have a lot to do today.”
I stand up. The obligation I feel to stay here with her tugs at me, but my need to be upstairs with Kate overpowers it. Even so, I glide my fingers down the side of Ellie’s face. “Call me anytime, Elle.”
My not staying speaks volumes, and Ellie realizes it, too. Two years of being there for her every beck and call is coming to an end. She doesn’t answer me right away, her eyes not wavering from the window.
“Sure,” she says, and by her tone I’m not sure she will.
I go to leave, take a couple of steps, then turn back around. “Ellie?”
She doesn’t answer.
I continue anyway, because I need to know. “What was it about Liam that made you fall for him?”
At the mention of his name, she lifts her head. I don’t talk about Liam. Not the way Ellie does. Her shoulders rise and fall, and for a moment, I wonder if she’s going to ignore me. But a second later, she swivels in her chair.
She tucks the locks of loose hair behind her ears before her eyes flick up to me. She doesn’t answer right away, but when she does, her voice is soft. “Liam was genuine. What you saw was what you got.”
~*~
I stay with Kate for the rest of the day. Marcy’s here too, working away on her laptop, searching for a miracle that can save her daughter. I hope she finds one.
At some point, I pick up my guitar and work through the song I haven’t finished. I’m mumbling the lyrics I have so far when what Ellie said about Liam enters my mind. Then suddenly, memories of the dinner Kate and I shared before she got sick takes its place. That night, I’d lost it in front of her, needing her like I’ve never needed anyone.
I can’t make sense if it on my own, so I allow my thoughts to spill out onto the page.
There are no reasons
That you’re searching for
I haven’t left the door open long
Please don’t stop looking
I need your understanding
I need you to make sure I land on my feet
Tell me you love me
Tell me you want me
Tell me that the world’s not over me
The one-sided deal I made with Kate seeps into my memory: if she’d wake up, I’d be better. Like Liam.
The rest of the song flows out of me.
The world’s not over me
Come find me
In my hiding place
I swear I’ll pray for you
I don’t know if you’ll follow through, but if you do
I’ll be waiting for you
To tell me you love me
That you hate that the world
Isn’t over me
The world isn’t over me
Strumming the last chord, I let it reverberate. I swallow, stunned at the realizations that came as I sang. I scan over the words again. It’s not perfect, but it will be.
Sometimes, the secrets of your life are revealed at the most inopportune times, and in the places you least expect.
Kate’s black diary on the nightstand catches my eye, and it’s like a light clicks on in my head. After all the shit I’ve done that she knows about—that I’ve done to her—she’s with me. Five days ago, she was with me.
Me. Not Liam.
Me.
I set my notebook aside and stand up. All I see is Kate. Even lying there, the girl takes my breath away. Seven years of fighting this disease, and, essentially, she’s done it alone. But not anymore.
Careful of the cords and tubes snaking into her, I climb onto the all-too-small hospital bed. I need to have her close. Yesterday, I’d been so busy trying to please everyone, I’d spent less than ten real minutes with the only person I care about pleasing.
I reach across her, sliding my fingers down her face. Her skin is warmer than it has been, and I can’t help thinking that’s a good sign. The coolness bothered me. Like she was dying.
“Katie,” I whisper into her ear. “Come back to me, baby.”
I brush my lips over her cheek, savoring how my breath wafts over her before it reverts back to me, now carrying her sweet scent.
I squeeze my eyes closed and gently press my forehead against hers. I’m close to losing it again. I shouldn’t need Kate this much. I shouldn’t need anyone this much.
But I do.
Day 6
I wake up before the sun rises. My hand sweats, and it takes me a second to realize why. I’ve had Kate’s hand clasped in mine all night. I let go, worried that I’ve overheated her. Wiping my palm on my jeans, I stand up to check the monitor that keeps track of her vitals. I’m not sure what I’m seeing, but no alarms are going off. Regardless, I lay the back of my hand over Kate’s forehead.
She’s warm. Much warmer than earlier.
Again, I peer up at the screen. Damn it. I wish I knew what the hell those numbers meant.
My gut tells me something’s not right. I’m beginning to panic because I have no idea what’s wrong, and I can’t do shit about it. I can’t stop what’s happening.
For a second, I consider rousing Marcy. I shoot a quick glance over my shoulder. Marcy seems to be sleeping peacefully for once, and she’s in the same helpless boat as I’m in. No, I won’t disturb her.
Instead, I lean over Kate and kiss her head. “I’m going to find Tammy, baby. I’ll be right back.”
I swallow hard because I don’t want to leave her. I could push the call button, but I don’t want to worry Marcy. She has enough to deal with, and if I’m wrong, then I’ve woken her up for no reason.
God, I hope I’m wrong.
My gaze trails over Kate one last time before I exit the room, leaving the door cracked behind me. There’s one nurse—Pat—at the nurses’ station, and she’s a newbie on this floor. I doubt she knows anything about Kate’s case.
“Where’s Tammy?” I demand. Fuck the niceties.
Her brows furrow at me. My tone catches her off guard. “Um, she’s making her rounds. Can I help you, Damian?” she asks, scowling—yeah, scowling—at me.
Perfect. She knows my name, and judging by her expression, my reputation has preceded me. I’m not going to get anywhere with this nurse.
I slap the counter. “No, you can’t. What room is she in?” I’m not the guy I was yesterday. Hell, I’m not that guy at all.
The nurse shakes her head. “I’m not at liberty to give you that infor—”
“I don’t give a fuck what information you’re not at liberty to give,” I say, my tone dropping low. I don’t handle these situations well, especially when it involves someone I care about. And this nurse is really starting to piss me off.
“Hospital policy states—”
Is she serious?
“Something is wrong with Kate Browdy, and Tammy knows her case. Where is she?”
Pat checks her computer then shakes her head. “Kate Browdy is fine. If something were wrong, I’d know about it. Now, visiting hours don’t begin until—”
I’ve had enough of this bullshit. And right now, I’m desperate.
“I need to speak with Tammy, and I need to speak with her now. So, if you don’t give me what I need, I will stalk up and down this hallway, slamming every goddamn door open until
I find her. Do you understand me?”
Even as I say it, I know it’s an empty threat. I might be an asshole, but this is the pediatric oncology floor, and there are young children in those rooms. However, I’m counting on my reputation to make this work.
I see a hint of fear in her eyes, and I’m sure she’s close to giving in.
She doesn’t.
“I’m calling security,” she says, reaching for the phone.
Shit!
I grab her wrist before she touches the receiver. She fixes her stare on me, eyes wide.
“Tammy,” I repeat.
Kate’s on the verge of something bad, and I’m close to losing it with Pat.
The nurse’s nostrils flare, and I think she’s shaking a little. I don’t let go, though. In fact, I squeeze her wrist a little tighter for emphasis. I’m not thinking of the repercussions for my actions. I’m a man on a mission.
Her breath hitches at my grip, and I cock my head to the side. “I’m fucking serious,” I grind out.
Her eyes flick up and focus behind me. I spin around to see Tammy exiting a patient’s room halfway down the corridor.
I toss the nurse’s hand away and jog down the hallway. She’ll probably have security on the phone in one second flat, but I’ve got more pressing matters on my mind. I’ve dealt with hospital security before. They know me well.
“Tammy,” I say when I catch up to her.
She must see the panic on my face because her brows knit together in concern. “What’s wrong, Damian?” she asks.
“Kate. She’s warm, and—”
I’m cut off by alarms ringing at the nurses’ station. My head snaps toward the sound, and I know it’s Kate even before Pat darts the short distance into her room.
“Fuck!”
I run down the hall, Tammy on my heels. I swing into Kate’s room. Roused from her sleep, Marcy’s on her feet at the foot of Kate’s bed, and Nurse Bitch is just studying the goddamn printout!
Eight Days (Love Always #1.5) Page 5