We move closer, so we can hear their conversation.
"She's okay." Fiona nearly smiles. "She's okay."
The doctor nods. "She's sedated. You can visit in the morning."
He leans in and whispers something.
She shakes her head. The near smile falls from her lips.
"Can we see her?" she asks no one in particular.
He nods, whispers some directions, and turns back to the hallway.
I follow her and Blake to Meryl's room.
It's small. Private.
It's so much like that day three years ago.
We're separated by iron and glass.
I can see her, but I can't get close.
She's sleeping. Her heart rate monitor is steady. It's the same as Lizzy's was. It promises she's surviving.
But this time, she isn't.
My legs go weak. I clutch at Blake's arm, but, still I crumble.
He catches me and helps me to a bench. It's private. Sort of.
It's far enough away from everyone that we can talk.
He brushes the hair from my eyes.
It calms me.
It soothes every nerve in my body.
Of course it does.
I'm madly in love with him.
And he's looking at me with every ounce of concern in the world.
"I'll make sure you get your money," he says. "Even if she dies before the wedding."
"I don't care about the money."
"Let's do it here, tomorrow. There's a chapel down the hall. Your dress should be ready. Ashleigh can call the tailor. I'll offer him double to get it done overnight."
I take an easy breath.
Blake's expression is desperate. He needs control over this. He needs to go through with this lie.
But I need something he can't give me.
I can't marry him like this.
"No," I say.
"Kat, please."
"I'm sorry." A tear rolls down my cheek. Meryl is going to die and there's nothing I can do to save her.
There was nothing I could do to save my parents.
There's nothing I can do to fix this.
"Kat. Think about what you're saying."
I swallow hard. Just one last time. I lean in and press my lips to Blake's. He tastes good. Like whiskey and like Blake. "Goodbye." I push myself off the bench. "I'll visit her in the morning."
"Kat. You can't."
I shake my head. "I have to. I… I'll find a way to pay you back for the apartment. Somehow."
"It's only one day. Half an hour. Then she can die happy."
"I'm sorry." I pull the ring off my finger and press it into his palm.
"But why?"
"Do you love me?"
"Kat…"
"That's the only way you can change my mind."
And it's never going to happen.
He's never going to fall in love with me.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Room 302. A windowless room in the middle of the hallway.
Hospitals are always depressing, but this takes the cake. There's no life in this room. It's ugly. Still. Plain.
Meryl lies in her hospital bed. Her face is still a strange, pale yellow. She looks weak and tired, but she looks happy too.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing up so early?" she asks.
I pull up a chair next to her bed and get comfortable. I'm going to be here a while. "Visiting hours started three minutes ago."
"I'll forgive the delay." She looks me over carefully. Her eyes fix on my unadorned left hand. "You're no longer obligated to visit me."
"I was never obligated." I squeeze my purse handle. "You've been so kind to me. You really accepted me as your daughter-in-law. I'm sorry that I can't be… that Blake and I won't…"
Her brow furrows. "What happened?"
"I can't bother you with my relationship problems."
She scoffs. "Sweetie, it's not a bother. Anything is better than sitting here with everyone looking at me like I'm going to die." She grabs the bed's remote control and adjusts it so she's mostly upright. "I can help. I know my son."
"Then you know the problem."
Meryl frowns. "He said you got into a fight about the wedding. He wanted to move it up. You thought that was a transparent attempt to appease his poor dying mother."
I can't help but smile. She has a damn good sense of humor. "Did he really say all that?"
"I read between the lines." She sips her glass of orange juice. "He says it's a fight and that you'll make up soon. But from the look on your face…"
There's a look on my face? God damn Sterling ability to read people. I try to smile, but this time it's not coming naturally. "It's unlikely."
"Was anything he said true?"
Tension stirs inside me. I'm not lying anymore. Not to her. "It's his version of it." I stare at the white tile floor. "He and I never… he never…"
"Sweetheart, I know you were pretending."
My heart is beating so fucking loud. "What?"
Meryl offers a sly smile. "I don't know the details, but I can tell. It's almost sweet. I never realized he cared this much about making me happy."
"He does." My gaze goes right back to the floor. It's scuffed with ugly white lines. "And he's stubborn."
"Very."
I force myself to make eye contact. She has the same blue eyes as Blake. They're just as piercing. Just as good at picking me apart. "How did you know?"
"The boy doesn't have an impulsive bone in his body. If he really was seeing someone, I'd have known about it months ago."
Something in me relaxes. It's not that he's incapable of love. At least, she doesn't believe he's incapable of it.
I nod. "Part of it was true. We met when I was leaving an interview, and he offered me the job. If you can call it that." I pluck the stray threads from my purse's handle. "I feel awful about lying to you."
"Don't. You get something good in exchange for this?"
"Really good."
"Sweetie, as far as I'm concerned, we never had this conversation. Take Blake back, marry him, divorce him, and take him to the cleaners."
"We signed a prenup."
"And how much would you get?"
I hold my purse against my stomach. "A lot."
Meryl raises a brow. "He won't miss whatever he offered you." She pushes herself up so she can lean closer. "It's a hard world for women. You have to use whatever you have to get yours. You're beautiful, smart, and a damn good liar."
"You really want me to lie to your son so I can divorce him and take his money?"
"It was his idea."
"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree." I laugh. God, this whole thing is absurd. My life was a lot easier before I met Blake, but it was a hell of a lot less interesting. "I really wish I could."
She grabs my wrist. Her eyes get serious. "Honey, you can. And you should. You two would be much happier than Fiona and Trey are."
"Probably."
"Of course, she hasn't been happy since she was Homecoming Queen." Meryl shakes her head. "My kids, my problem. They don't know what it's like to grow up with nothing. Their father did well. He spoiled them rotten. And he was insured to the hilt." Her expression softens. "They're successful. What every mom is supposed to want. God. I'm a cliché, whining about the state of my children's marriages, or lack thereof."
My stomach is twisted and torn. This confession isn't exactly freeing us. Maybe Blake was right and it was better to lie. Better to die happy believing a lie…
I study Meryl's expression, trying my best Sterling stare. Her eyes are especially yellow but they're also bright. Alive. Her lips are turned into a smile.
She is happy, considering the circumstances.
"You want the truth?" I ask.
"Of course, sweetheart."
"I'm an idiot not to marry Blake. That money could be my ticket. I could spend ten years in school and another ten traveling the world. But I won't be able to do any of it with my hea
rt broken."
Her eyes go wide. She leans closer.
"I love Blake. I love him, and he's never going to fall in love with me. I can't live like that, constantly wanting him in a way I'll never have him. It would kill me."
"Oh, sweetie." She pats my arm. "I'm sorry."
I prepare myself to blink back a tear—this whole love thing has me in pieces—but it doesn't come. I'm too tired, too numb, too something.
"You have to take care of yourself." Meryl studies me. She pulls her arm to her side. "Do me a favor and run down to the gift shop."
"Sure."
"You have cash?"
I nod.
"Get me the trashiest romance novel you can find. And get yourself a cup of coffee. You look like hell."
A laugh escapes my lips. "You got it."
"Blake would take great care of you," she says.
"He would." But it's not enough.
I buy Meryl one copy of each romance in here—there are only three—and buy myself a can of iced coffee.
It's a short walk to Meryl's room. I keep my gaze on the white tile floor.
Room 302. I reach for the door.
Shit.
Blake is here.
He's in jeans and a t-shirt. Messy hair. Bags under his eyes. He's undone. Not like the animal Blake, the one I understand.
He's some other version of Blake.
One I've never seen before.
I step inside with my best I don't give a damn my ex is here swagger. My shoes squeak against the tile floor. I force a smile.
Blake's eyes fix on mine. "Kat."
My name is a plea on his lips. But not for what I need. Not for every ounce of my love and affection.
I hand Meryl her books. "I should get going. I'll come back tomorrow."
Blake's eyes stay on mine. "Stay. Talk. I can come back."
"No, that's okay. I have a lot of work to do. Deadlines for my applications." I press the can of coffee against the inside of my wrist. It sends a chill straight to my spine. "I hope you feel better."
She nods. "You too."
I move into the hallway. I keep my eyes on the floor. I'm not turning back. I can't. If he looks at me like that again…
"Kat, wait." Blake's voice booms in the hallway.
My intentions to avoid him crumble. That voice is intoxicating. I want it surrounding me. I want it any way I can have it.
"Forget about moving up the wedding," he says. "Let's do it as planned at the gardens. I wanted to marry you."
Those words are music. They're poetry.
They're bullshit.
I shake my head. "I can't."
His fingers brush my wrist. "There must be some way I can change your mind."
Warmth fills my body. Damn thing is against me. "There is."
"Well?"
I turn and take in his expression. It's the strangest mix of sadness and steel. The guy is going to hell over this, but he's still a goddamned automaton.
"It's not a possibility," I say.
His voice is strong and deep. "Anything is a possibility."
I shake my head. "This is one thing you can't negotiate." Small step backwards. "Let Meryl know I'll see her tomorrow."
"Kat."
"Take care of yourself."
"You too."
Chapter Thirty-Three
"Loverboy sent a gift." Lizzy points to a small package on the kitchen table.
"What are you doing up?" I ask.
"Heard you leave." She taps her fingers against the table. "So…"
I copy her annoyed tone. "So…"
She nods to the package. "I made coffee." She lifts her cup. "French roast."
I pour myself a cup and sit at the table.
"So…" Lizzy taps her toes. Clears her throat. Takes a long sip. "Are you going to open it?"
"It's more fun making you wait."
And I'm not exactly prepared for whatever this is.
It's a small package wrapped in plain grey paper with a pink bow on top. It suits him. It's exactly like his sleek, utilitarian office.
It's his life. Grey everywhere. The one touch of color is superficial. It's easy to tear away.
Even if it's my favorite color.
And the theme of the wedding.
Lizzy sighs. "I'm opening it."
"Don't you dare."
She raises her eyebrows. "I already read the card."
"And?"
She grabs the card—it's the same grey as the wrapping—and holds it to her chest. "Not sure if he wrote it before you dumped his sorry ass."
My stomach flip-flops. Fine. I'll read the damn card. I grab it from Lizzy's hands.
Kat,
I hope this gets your mind off things. If it's not enough, my way is a lot more fun.
Sincerely,
Blake
Sincerely.
It twists the knife in my chest.
But it proves me right.
I can't be a sincerely.
I unwrap the present carefully.
It's hard. Slick. A book.
It's a hardcover copy of Ghost World, a special print with the entire comic and the screenplay from the film. I flip it open and—
It's signed.
It's perfect.
My heart thuds against my chest.
I'm a sincerely.
That's what matters here. Not that this present is perfect. Not that Blake seems to know exactly what I want.
I close the book and push it to the center of the table. Coffee. I need to drink this coffee. I take a long sip. French roast. Black. Strong. Hint of vanilla.
Just like what was on his lips after the pool.
Fuck. It's not working.
"Hey… Kat…" Lizzy's voice is sing-song.
"Yeah?"
"Want me to get out of here so you can have a booty call?"
"No." I move the hardcover to our bookshelf. I'll look at it later. When it makes me think of something besides his strong hands and his piercing eyes. "I want to have brunch with my sister."
She smirks. "You want a booty call at his place."
"No, Lizzy. I broke off our engagement last night, and his mom is in the hospital. It's not the time for a booty call. Okay?"
She slumps in her chair. "I was just kidding."
"Sorry, I haven't slept."
"So can we go to the brunch place that doesn't card?" she asks.
"No way in hell."
Brunch is quiet. I eat a full plate of stuffed French toast and spend the afternoon napping with my sketchbook pressed against my chest.
Lizzy makes dinner. She's not the best cook in the world, but neither am I.
We eat in front of the TV in silence.
Maybe she's reeling too. Her life is going to be different soon. She'll be on another coast. With all new friends and surroundings.
She resigns herself to studying.
I spread out on my bed with my sketchbook. I've been working on all these tiny little comics—four or six or even ten panels. When I lay them side my side, they fit together. They're kind of like Ghost World, actually. They're vignettes about life refusing to stay the same.
It's been changing all this time. It's not just before the accident and after the accident. Every day is different. Every day, I'm different. Meeting Blake…
That's just speeding things along.
I get to work on another six-panel comic. There's so much I want to capture, but I'm not good enough yet.
The images in my head don't come out right on paper. I need training. I need experience.
It's not too late to reverse my decision. It's not too late to take Blake's money to pay for school.
But that feels wrong. There are other ways. Need-based scholarships. Loans.
Working while I go to community college part time.
Between checking school deadlines and working on my comic, I lose track of time.
Lizzy wishes me goodnight. Promises to check on me before she leaves for school tomorrow.
My phone beeps with a low battery warning. I go to plug it in when I see—
Blake: Kat, call me. I need to talk about Meryl.
It's only an hour or two old and there's a missed call to go with it.
I dial Blake and hold the phone to my ear. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.
"Kat," he answers. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Can you tell me what's going on?" I dig my fingers into the phone. "I mean, thank you for the book."
"It's supposed to be an early wedding present."
"Even so."
"You like it?" There's vulnerability in his voice. He really does want to make me happy.
"Very much." I clear my throat, but it does nothing to chase the light feeling from my limbs. "What's happening with Meryl?"
His breath catches. "Kat…" Every ounce of hope drains from his voice.
My heart sinks.
Blake is rattled.
He's never rattled.
There's no way this is going to be okay.
His voice is quiet. Soft. "She's going home tonight."
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "What does that mean."
"It's hospice care. She only has a few days."
Fuck. "Are you okay?"
His exhale is heavy. "Are you?"
I shake my head. Something he won't hear.
A tear rolls down my cheek.
How can something so inevitable hurt this badly?
Meryl deserves better.
She deserves more.
She's been so kind to me. Kinder than anyone has been in a long, long time.
I wipe my eyes. "I'll manage."
"She's staying at her house upstate."
"Oh, can I… I don't want to intrude."
"She'd love your company." His voice is steady again.
I take another deep breath. "I'll take the first train in the morning."
"I'm leaving in an hour. I'll pick you up."
My heart races. I manage a choppy breath. "Okay. Knock when you get here. Lizzy is sleeping."
"Sure."
"Thanks."
"Kat?"
"Yeah?" My stomach twists.
"It's gonna be okay."
It's not, but he's sweet to lie.
The knock is so soft I can barely hear it. That was fast. My suitcase is only half packed. My clothes are a mess on the floor.
My head…
This is hard for me. How the hell is he holding on?
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