“Erin, wait…” I watch helplessly as she presses redial, the blood draining from her face when Calli answers. “Let me explain.”
“Why do you have my sister’s phone number, Cade? And why were you calling her?” Her eyes flash with hurt. “Tell me what the fuck is going on, and tell me now.” Her voice rises, attracting the attention of the few people checking out early.
“Come back upstairs so I can explain.” I attempt to take her hand but she shrugs me off angrily.
“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me,” she hisses.
“You sister and parents asked me to look after you.”
“They did?” She almost looks relieved, but I know that won’t last because the worst is yet to come. “Okay, I can see them asking that of you—Hang on,” she says, her brow furrowing. “When did you speak to my parents?”
“When they contacted me, asking me to apply to your ad.” I force the words out, knowing I can’t take them back.
Her eyes widen and flash with anger. “They contacted you?” she gasps. “How did they even know you?”
“Your mother and mine are part of the same rotary club and gym,” I rush to explain. “Your mum told mine what was going on with you, and my mum knew I was in trouble and needed help.”
“Are they paying you?” She keeps her voice even, but I can see how deep this is cutting her.
I don’t answer. How can I?
“How much?” she asks, taking my silence as an admission.
“Twenty thousand,” I say hoarsely. “And my parents are matching it.”
“Forty thousand dollars?” she growls. She backs up a few steps, hurt and angry. “And us, was that part of the arrangement? Did they ask you to show me a good time?”
“Me falling for you is a hundred percent real,” I say. I want to beg her to believe me. I want to tell her that the money didn’t matter the second I met her at that hotel. I want to tell her I’d give it all back in a heartbeat. But I can’t. Instead I stand there, soaking up her anger, because I know nothing I say is going to make her forgive me.
“I can’t be around you right now,” she mutters.
Pushing past me, she heads back to our room, leaving me standing there. She turns around. Her eyes are cold and filled with anger.
“Oh, and Cade? Don’t bother coming back up.”
I lean my head against the door of the inside of our hotel suite, wishing I could wake up from this nightmare. She told me not to come up, but how could I not? The moment she’s ready to listen, I want to be here. But it’s been nearly two hours and she’s been in the bedroom, door closed, since I got here.
I’m still in shock that she found out like she did. I called Calli to warn her, but she’d already spoken to her and it sounded like I got off easy in comparison. Calli was distraught, and on the verge of getting on a plane to sort this out face to face, but I convinced her that right now that would do more harm than good.
“Give her space,” I told her. “Let her talk to you when she’s ready.”
Yet here I am, parked outside the bedroom, refusing to move until I speak to her.
Maybe I should be listening to my own advice. She doesn’t want to see me, let alone speak to me. Sitting here isn’t going to change that. If anything, it’s only going to feed her anger.
I stand up and stretch out, my legs aching from being crouched over for so long. I stretch again and give one final lingering glance at the bedroom before turning away. I’m almost at the door when I hear her cry out. I pause, my heart racing, because I know this isn’t about us. There is a fear in her voice I’ve never heard before. Racing over to the bedroom, I yank open the door, my heart pounding out of my chest. My whole world stops when I see her curled up on the bed in the foetal position with her hands covering her head. A rush of energy hits me and I fly over to her side.
“Erin?” I yell.
Her soft sobs are her only response.
“Are you okay?” I gasp, racing to her side.
She sobs uncontrollably, rocking softly back and forth, her eyes squeezed shut. I touch her back, not sure what to do. This is all my fault. I pushed her over the edge. If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.
“It hurts so bad,” she whispers. Her words are jumbled and she’s shaking like crazy.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” I say, grabbing my phone out of my pocket.
I’m put through to an interpreter, who assures me an ambulance is on the way. I end the call and go back to Erin, wishing I could do more to help her. I kneel down beside her, trying to ease her pain by gently rubbing her neck.
“Shhh, it will be okay,” I whisper, wishing I believed it myself. “The ambulance will be here soon. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I wrap my arms around her. She doesn’t resist, so I hold her against me until the paramedics arrive just a few minutes later. I stand back and let them work on her. Their English isn’t great and she’s in no condition to communicate, so I jump in, offering information where I can.
“Nous l'emmènerons à l'hôpital Notre-Dame.” He pauses when he sees the look of confusion on my face. “Hospitale? Familie?”
I nod, finally understanding. The Notre Dame Hospital. We walked past it the other day. They lift her onto a stretcher and wheel her out of the room while I stand there and helplessly watch. Throwing some of her things together, I grab her handbag and make my way to the hospital via the world’s slowest taxi. I’ll call her family when I know more. They’re halfway across the world and I don’t want to worry them until I really have to.
Chapter Nineteen
Cade
I arrive at the hospital to find they’ve already taken her in to be examined. I stop a nurse to try to find out what is happening, but she clearly can’t understand me. I’m growing more frustrated by the second. Getting anywhere here feels impossible, because nobody speaks English well enough to understand what the hell I’m saying. I demand an interpreter and she scurries off. She either understood that or in five minutes security is going to be removing me.
I wait in the waiting room, pacing back and forth, unable to sit still. If only I knew what was happening. If I knew she was going to be okay, then I could deal with the wait. It’s not knowing that’s the hardest. God, I don’t even know if she’s still alive.
I slump down into a seat and glance around me, trying to distract myself. It’s a busy place, with people everywhere. On one side of me, a group of teenagers are laughing. On the other, a team of doctors are rattling off gibberish to an old guy in a wheelchair. It’s a strange being in a foreign hospital, because you understand literally nothing. It’s like everyone’s speaking a foreign language. Oh wait, they are.
Every time a doctor walks towards me, I sit up a little straighter, praying it’s me he’s looking for. After the sixth disappointment, I stop hoping.
“I’m sorry, are you waiting for Erin Camden?”
I jump out of my seat, caught off guard. “Yes. Cade Wilson,” I say. “Is she okay?”
“She’s stable,” he replies. Only now do I notice his thick English accent. “We think the tumour might be rapidly growing, making the symptoms intensify.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. “How much time does she have left?”
“It’s too hard to say without tests, and she won’t consent to any further treatment,” he says, shrugging. “Who is her doctor back in Australia?”
“Martin,” I mumble, distracted. I’m struggling to get past the bit where she’s refusing treatment. “I don’t know his first name.”
“Okay, I’ll give him a call and let him know what’s happened. I’ll let you see her as soon as possible, okay?”
“Thank you,” I mutter.
He nods, giving me a tight smile before walking away.
I can’t put off calling her family any longer. If I were them, I’d want to know right away. I fish through her bag, looking for her phone. How much crap does she have in here? I pull ou
t half a bag of crackers that look like they expired ten years ago and three packets of gum, each with only one piece left. I shake my head, amused. I bet she squeezes the middle of the toothpaste too.
Eventually I find her phone. I turn it on, relieved it doesn’t have a lock code on it and there is still enough power to make the call. At least for the moment she’s okay. What if she’d died, still angry at me? That would’ve stayed with me forever. I know how selfish that sounds, but I can’t help it.
Still coming down from my adrenaline high, I dial her mother and wait nervously for her to answer. I do the calculations in my head and realise it’s four in the morning there. Not that it matters. They’d want to know regardless.
“Hello?” She sounds half asleep.
My words catch in my throat as I draw a blank. Do I tell them she’s refusing more tests?
“Hello?” she repeats, kicking me into gear.
“Hi. Mrs Camden? Hi. This is Cade Wilson—I’m travelling with Erin?” I’d be nervous talking to her at the best of times, but calling with bad news is a thousand times worse.
“Oh, God no,” she whispers. “No, no—”
“She’s okay,” I quickly cut in. I don’t want her assuming the worst for a second longer than she has to. “She was taken to hospital a little while ago. I just spoke with the doctor and they think the tumour is growing, but they can’t be sure without doing more tests.” I pause. Do I mention my fight with Erin? Chances are if she called to blast Calli, she would’ve called her parents too. “Did you speak with her earlier today?” I ask softly.
“‘Speak’ would be a bit too kind a word. I think ‘roast’ is the word kids are using these days. She told me that she’d never forgive me.” Mrs Camden weeps. “All I wanted to do was make sure she was okay.”
“I know,” I say, wishing I could fix things. I feel responsible, because it was my stupid conscience that landed everyone in hot water with Erin. “It’s me she’s most angry at. She’ll forgive you both, and Calli, because she knows you were only worried about her. But me…I’m another story,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“If she is this upset with you, there must be a reason.”
There is truth to her words, which gets me thinking. If Erin and I hadn’t have formed such a bond, would she be less upset with me? Probably. Anger feeds off emotion. It’s much easier to not waste your energy on something you’re not invested in.
“There is a reason,” I agree, not going into detail. “I’ll keep in touch, Mrs Camden.”
I flick back through the photos on Erin’s phone, taken over the course of our trip. She looks so happy in every damn photo, with her bright, cheeky smile and sparkling eyes. I sigh and close the screen, but hit the wrong button. An email pops up on the screen and something catches my eye. I know I should close it. Every ounce of me is willing myself to put down the goddamned phone, because the last thing I need is to add snooping to the list of things I’ve done wrong. But instead, I start reading.
Dear Erin,
I just wanted to touch base with you to see whether you have come to a decision. I know we have discussed at great length your options at our clinic, but I wanted to reach out in case you have any more questions.
I want to assure you that it is completely natural for anyone in your position to be having second thoughts. It’s a big decision, and one you can only make on your own.
I also want to assure you that although (as we discussed) the deposit is non-refundable, should you decide not to go through with the process, the full amount less administrative fees will be donated to a charity of your choice.
Please feel free to call me anytime.
Gina
What the hell is this? I scan the email for clues as to what kind of “clinic” they run, but it gives me nothing. I punch in the number and press Call.
“Hello, The Freedman Clinic, Karolina speaking.”
Hanging up, I Google the name and click on the top result. My heart pounds. I can’t believe what I’m reading. No way. But there it is, in big, bold writing up the top of the website: The Freedman Clinic, Switzerland, world leader in assisted suicide.
There is no way she had this planned from the beginning. This can’t be right. I want to call them back and demand answers, but I know they won’t tell me anything that I don’t already know. All that crap about going on the trip of a lifetime? And about not wanting her family around to remind her that she’s dying? Bullshit. She wanted a stranger because she thought they wouldn’t try to talk her out of it.
“Mr Wilson?”
I look up and see her doctor standing in front of me.
“She’s conscious and the pain is under control. We want to keep her in, but she is insisting she is okay to go. Perhaps you can talk to her?” he asks.
I snort. Good luck with her listening to anything I say.
“I’ll do my best,” I mumble. I follow him to a single room with crisp white walls and minimal furnishings opposite the doctor’s station. I walk inside, closing the door behind me.
Erin is already up and sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes darken when she sees me.
“I’m not staying,” she says. Her voice is clipped. She’s still angry at me, which is fine, because I’m angry at her. “I’m fine. It was just a bad migraine.”
“They want to do some tests—”
“Which is pointless,” she cuts in. “If I’m getting worse, what can they do about it? Nothing.”
“So you’ll take matters into your own hands then?” I mutter. It’s a low punch and I immediately regret opening my stupid mouth.
Her wide blue eyes glare at me, confused.
“What are you talking about …” Her voice trails off when I hold up her phone, still open to that email. She stares at it, her face going pale. “You had no right to go through my stuff,” she cries angrily. She lunges off the bed and snatches the phone from me, clutching it to her chest.
“You’ve been pissed at me for lying to you, when you’ve been just as bad,” I growl. “Were you going to tell me I’m only here so you can kill yourself, or was that going to be a surprise?”
“It’s not like that,” she whispers. “I haven’t even decided if this is something I want to do. I just wanted to give myself the option. And this doesn’t come close to matching what you did to me. You took money from my family, Cade. How do you think that makes me feel?”
I press my lips together, holding back so many things I want to say. Her eyes darken, anger sparking in them as she misinterprets my silence for something else.
“Don’t judge me when you have no idea what I’m going through,” she says, blinking back tears. “I might wake up tomorrow and not be able to talk, or communicate at all. How would you cope if you’d found me like that? You have no idea what it’s like to have that hanging over your head.”
I sit down, my eyes level with hers. I grab hold of her hand. “You’re right. I don’t know what you’re going through, but I also don’t think you’re ready to give up.”
“Aren’t I? Cade, I’m tired,” she whispers. Tears pool in her eyes as she slumps down in the chair beside her, defeated. “I’m sick of fighting this fucking disease and getting nowhere. I’m sick of being reminded every fucking day of what I’m losing. There is no winning. I can’t beat this, so why try?”
“Because I’m not ready to lose you.” My heart pounds as I stare at her.
She doesn’t speak. Instead she looks at me with her wide blue eyes and tear-stained face.
“I’ve been so afraid to let myself get close to you because I can’t handle losing you, but I can’t deny what I’m feeling any longer. I’m falling in love with you.”
“Cade—”
“I know.” I cut her off because I don’t want to hear her say it. “I’m selfish, a coward, and I’m a liar. I’m all the things you came here to avoid.”
“You’re all the things I want.”
She tugs at my hand. I kneel next to her and wrap my arms arou
nd her, burying myself in her embrace. I wish I could stay here forever and keep her safe and with me. What happened tonight scared the hell out of me because I’m not ready to lose her. She might be ready to die, but I’m not ready to let that happen without fighting for us.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she whispers in my ear. “But I didn’t because I had no idea what I wanted.”
“And I’m sorry I lied to you.” My voice is hoarse and strained, because I’m struggling to hold it together. “The last thing I ever want you to feel is that this isn’t real. You are the most real thing in my life, Erin. I’d die with you if it meant we could have longer together.”
“Don’t say that,” she says, placing her hand against my lips.
“It’s the truth,” I say, kissing the tips of her fingers. “If I could trade my life to give you more time, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“Nothing is going to buy me more time,” she whispers.
The sadness in her eyes makes my heart ache. If only there was something I could do. This can’t be it. It can’t end like this. The last few weeks have flown by. If I don’t do something, I’m going to be burying her before I know it. There’s got to be something.
My father.
The answer’s been staring me in the face this whole time and I was just too blind to see it. He would have to know someone who might consider operating. Erin said her doctor was the best, but the best in the world? What if there is someone better?
“Stay overnight?” I beg her. I need time to get this thing in motion, and I don’t want her around when I do it. The last thing I want is to get her hopes up. “For me? I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you. One night and then tomorrow we can continue with our trip. Please?” I beg.
She sighs, then relents, rolling her eyes. “Okay. But only if you kiss me.”
The first thing I do when I get back to the hotel is call my father. I hate having to do it, but he’s the only person who can help, although I’m not even sure he will. It’s just the kind of petty, selfish thing he’d do to get back at me. Who cares if someone’s life hangs in the balance? He certainly wouldn’t. My only hope is getting Mum to convince him after we’ve spoken.
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