“Dillon,” I mumbled, still half-asleep when I rolled over and reached out for him. I didn’t expect to connect with anything other than sheets, blankets, and pillows. I’d done the same countless times since he walked out. I was devastated all over again whenever I woke up and found myself alone. But this time was different. My hand collided with warm muscle, and my eyes popped open. When I spotted him standing next to the bed, I thought maybe I was hallucinating since I hadn’t been feeling well the past couple of days. “Dillon? You’re back?”
“I am.” His dark eyes were filled with concern as they scanned my face. “And it’s a good thing because you look like shit. What the hell did you do to yourself while I was gone?”
“Gone?” I repeated, shaking my head. I tried to swallow the saliva that pooled in my mouth as a rush of nausea assailed me. Feeling chilled, I yanked the blankets from his grip and pulled them over my body. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Faith—”
“No!” I held up my hand, anger surging through my system at his gentle tone.
“Baby—”
“Don’t you dare ‘baby’ me! You disappeared for days on end without answering a single one of my texts or calls. I had no idea where you were or if you were ever coming back. You don’t get to just show back up and expect me to be okay with you pulling a stunt like that.”
Not even if what I really wanted to do was throw myself in his arms. He actually came back when I was pretty much convinced that knowing his brother’s kidney was inside me was too much for him to accept. That he didn’t love me anymore. But with the way he was looking at me now, I didn’t know what to think.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, but those letters blew my world apart. Everything I thought to be true about Declan’s death turned out to be a lie.” I fisted my hands in the blankets, resisting the urge to reach out to him and offer comfort. “The only thing other than gambling and you that has helped ease my pain since I lost him was what my parents had told me about his death. That he hadn’t suffered. That he’d died in the crash. Not a month later when it would’ve been possible for him to have been your donor.”
I heard the pain in his tone, and it killed me. So fucking much. I never wanted him to be hurt like this, but it didn’t negate what I was feeling. It didn’t erase the pain he’d put me through by walking away from me the way he had. “I understand what it’s like for your world to fall apart. It happened to me when I was twelve and my mom overdosed. As shitty as my life with her had been, it was all I had ever known. And then I went through it all over again when the doctor told me the damage to my kidneys was too severe and I needed a transplant to survive. That an illness as treatable as strep throat was going to kill me.”
“Faith,” he choked out.
“But the universe wasn’t done with me yet because the joke was on me when I discovered that the very reason I was still alive and able to fall in love with you was also going to be the reason I lost you.”
He ignored my raised hand and climbed onto the mattress next to me. “You’re not going to lose me. I love you.”
I never thought I’d hear those three little words from him again. My heart started to race, and my vision clouded as tears began to spill from my eyes.
“Shit, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.” He swiped at my cheeks with his thumbs before pulling me into his arms.
“Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” I sobbed into his chest.
“You’ve got it all wrong, baby. The people we love are the only ones who can truly hurt us.”
I pulled back and glared at him. “There are different kinds of hurt, Dillon. You can’t ever do this to me again.”
“I won’t,” he promised. I didn’t detect anything but sincerity from him, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t sure he fully understood how deeply his leaving had affected me.
“If we fight, you can’t walk away. No matter how pissed you get. You have to stick around and work it out with me.”
He didn’t hesitate to respond. “I will.”
“You need to really think about this. Don’t make me a promise you won’t be able to keep. Not about something as important as this.” I warned.
“The way I left you was all I could think about when I powered my phone back up and saw your texts and voicemails. It was all I could think about on my drive over here, as I tried over and over again to reach you. I’m not making you an empty promise, Faith.”
I gave him a jerky nod, but there was something else I needed to understand before I forgave him. “I know you were upset. I get it. I really do. But what I haven’t been able to figure out is if you still love me, why did you walk away like that?”
He scrubbed his hands over his face like he usually did when he was frustrated or upset. “It’s going to be hard for you to understand, but I thought I was doing what was best for us. For you.”
He was right about one thing. His answer didn’t make any sense. None at all. It only got me all fired up all over again. “Best for me?” I snorted. “The going got tough and you got going. Just like anyone else would do. Except I thought you were better than that. I never thought you’d leave me like—”
I couldn’t finish the sentence. It hurt too damn much.
“I fucked up,” he groaned. “But I won’t walk away from you like that again. Not now that I understand how it triggers your abandonment issues. I was so damn worried about saying something that would hurt you and destroy us. I didn’t stop to think that saying nothing at all would be worse for you.”
Abandonment issues was putting it mildly. The way he’d handled the situation had made me live through one of my worst fears. I hadn’t handled it well. Not at all. But I’d survived and now he was sitting in front of me saying all of the things I would’ve killed to hear that night. I just needed to decide if it was enough. If I was willing to make myself vulnerable again. “You have the power to hurt me like nobody else. It scares me.”
“You’re not alone in that. The possibility that I fucked up badly enough to lose you scares the shit out of me.”
The walking out on me had freaked me out, but so had the reason he’d done it. And we hadn’t really talked about that part of it yet. “Even though I have Declan’s kidney in me?” I pressed my hand against my side but quickly jerked it back when there was a flash of tenderness.
“I’m not going to lie”—my entire body froze as my heart felt like it stuttered—“and say I wasn’t a little freaked out about it at first. I wasn’t sure what to think about knowing a piece of Declan lives on in you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, afraid to look at him as I asked, “And now?”
His touch was so familiar as he tilted my head back with one finger at my chin. “Look at me, baby.”
I let my lids drift upwards and focused on his dark eyes. They were filled with the same intense emotion I’d grown used to seeing in them.
Love.
It burned so brightly that tears spilled down my cheeks again.
“I hate that Declan is gone, but I’m thrilled as fuck that he was able to save you. For me.”
“Really?” I sobbed.
“Really.” He pulled me into his arms again and kissed the top of my head. “I can’t hold on to the fact that Declan didn’t suffer before he died anymore, but I sure as hell can hold onto that. And you. It’s just about the only thing holding me together at the moment.”
His whispered confession struck deep. He’d told me how much comfort he’d gotten from knowing his twin hadn’t suffered. It was humbling to know that I’d replaced that lifeline for him. I was still hurt, and odds were good that things between us were going to be tough while we rebuilt the trust that we lost. But I wanted to get that back. I wanted to trust him the same way I had before he’d reacted so badly to news that was devastating to him. Which meant I needed to move past my pain and give him a second chance—just like the one I’d been given because of his brother’s death.
“Okay. I forgive you for fuc
king up as long as you promise it won’t happen again.”
He reared back and stared down at me, his hands on my arms. “You forgive me?”
I nodded. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. I’m not willing to let go of the only guy I’ve ever loved, and the only way this thing is going to work between us is if I forgive you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, baby. If you need more time to get over my fuck-up. Take it. I’ll be here while you work through it.”
“I said I forgive you, not that I’m over it.” I wiggled out of his hold and fell back against the pillows. “But I’d rather spend that time sleeping than talking it out more. I feel like all I’ve done since you left was sleep and cry, and it’s never enough. All of this emotional shit has left me exhausted.”
“You look tired.”
“Thanks a lot.” I rolled my eyes. “I know I’m new to all this relationship stuff, but isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to say nice things to me to try to get back in my good graces? Telling me I look like crap isn’t going to help with that.”
“You could look like death warmed over, and I’d still think you were beautiful.” He leaned over and swiped a piece of hair off my face. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re burning up.”
“I’m fine.” I batted his hand away when he went to press his palm flat against my forehead. Or I would be if I could just go back to sleep.
“You’re not fine,” he insisted. “You need to get out from under those blankets and take a cold shower. Getting pissed at me must’ve gotten you all worked up or something.”
“I’m not hot. I’m cold,” I argued, yanking the covers higher when he tried to pull them off me.
He stood up and turned towards the bedside table. “Where’s your bottle of water? Maybe a drink will help you cool off.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“C’mon, Faith. You’re always thirsty. That’s why you keep one of your insulated bottles in here; so you have something cold to drink whenever you want it.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “A drink like water. Not wine.”
“Yeah, about that,” I sighed. “I kinda sorta managed to go through most of your wine.”
“Most? Or all?” He pointed at the bottles on the floor. “Because the wine fridge was empty and so are those.”
I rolled over and grabbed one of the full bottles off the floor from the other side of the bed. “I got tired of going all the way downstairs when I wanted one. Eventually, I just brought them upstairs with me.”
“So you survived on wine, Chinese food, and pizza while I was gone?”
“Pretty much.”
His gaze shot to the bedside table again. “What about your medicine? Where’s your pill box? It’s not where you usually keep it.”
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog and remember where I’d last seen my medications. “I think they’re in the bathroom.”
He strode across the room, ducking into the bathroom for less than a minute before returning to my side with the plastic box in his hand. “I left on Thursday. The slots for Friday and Saturday are empty but Sunday is still full. But they’re the only pills in here.”
“What?”
He lifted the box up so I could see it better. “Today is Tuesday. You always refill it on Monday morning. It should have pills in it for the rest of the week, not just Sunday. Have you not been taking your medication while I was gone?”
“Of course I’ve been taking my pills.” I rose up on my knees and yanked the box from his hands. “I’m not stupid. I know how important my meds are, and I never miss taking them. I might have fallen apart a little, but I’ve been taking care of myself forever.”
Or at least I never missed my meds in the past. But I’d been nauseous ever since he walked out the door and had a hard time keeping them down. It had only gotten worse as time went on, and I figured it was because I was so upset. I’d never had my heart broken like that before, and I’d assumed that was why I felt so awful. That and the alcohol I wasn’t used to drinking. “I was a little out of it, but I know I took my pills.”
Hadn’t I? Or was I drunk enough that I’d forgotten some of them?
Dillon went back into the bathroom and grabbed the bottles from the pharmacy. He dumped the contents of my anti-rejection meds on the bed and counted them out. “Thirty. Is that how many should be in here?”
“Sixty, minus twenty-eight, and another two from yesterday. But then there’s the two left in the box,” I mumbled to myself as I was calculating how many pills I should’ve gone through since I picked up my last refill. “Shit. I think I missed a couple of doses somehow.”
Dillon kicked at the empty wine bottles on the floor. “I’m pretty sure these are your somehow.”
“I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted the pain to stop. To sleep through the worst of it until I could pull myself back together again. But I swear to you I thought I was keeping better track of my pills than that.”
“Fuck.” He whirled around and punched the wall. Hard enough that his fist went through the drywall. I climbed off the mattress to check if his hand was okay, but I only took two steps before my legs gave out and I started to go down.
Chapter Nine
Dillon
“Shit!” I ignored the pain in my hand as I bent down to catch Faith before she hit the floor. Her skin was paler than it’d been just moments ago, and the dark smudges under her eyes were more pronounced. “What’ve I done to you?”
“This isn’t on you,” she protested weakly.
I lifted her up and gently set her down on the mattress. Then I went back into the bathroom and ran a washcloth under cold water. Pressing it to her head, I argued, “If I’d have just balled up and stuck around, or at least texted you, then maybe you wouldn’t have—”
“Fucked up?”
“Yeah, fucked up.” Because that’s exactly what she’d done. Not eating or drinking right and missing pills could make her lose her kidney—Declan’s kidney. “But I—”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “If I’m sick, it’s on me. I know better than to fuck around with my health. No matter what the circumstances.”
“Let me go grab the thermometer, and we’ll see how bad this is.” I headed back into the bathroom and dug in the top drawer for it. I pressed the button to power it up and groaned when I went to swipe it across her forehead because the cool washcloth was there and it would mess up the reading. “Shit, we’re going to have to wait to take your temp.”
She lifted the washcloth up and handed it to me. “I have an oral one in the junk drawer in the kitchen.”
“Okay, I’ll go get it.” I didn’t have any doubts that she was running a fever, and I didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary to find out how high it was. I ran downstairs and yanked the junk drawer open so hard that it pulled all the way out and crashed to the floor. Luckily, the thermometer was in a plastic case that kept it protected when it flew out and bounced around. Snatching it up, I raced back upstairs.
“Open.” I punctuated my order by pulling the thermometer from its case and thrusting it towards her mouth. When she parted her lips, I went to slide it under her tongue but she shook her head.
“You have to turn it on first.” She took the thermometer from me and pressed the button on it. After it beeped, she shoved it in her mouth.
I paced the floor until I heard it beep again. “How bad is it?”
“One hundred point five.”
I didn’t get sick often, but I remembered that my mom usually didn’t worry too much unless my temperature was at least over a hundred and one. “That’s not great, but it isn’t horrible either. Right?”
Her brown eyes were filled with fear as she stared up at me. “For me, it’s bad. Especially when you add in the missed doses, poor nutrition, not drinking enough water, and my other symptoms.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “What other symptoms?”
“Fatigue, chills, nausea.”
“And?” I asked when she paused, feeling like the worst was yet to come.
She lifted up one leg and pointed at her ankle. “Some swelling.”
Shit. That didn’t sound like something we could write off as being cold or flu related.
“Anything else?”
“I’m a little tender at my surgical site.”
“Fucking hell!” I roared, my hands fisting. I wanted to rage at the world, but it wouldn’t help the situation. I needed to focus and find a way to fix this because there was no way in hell I was willing to lose Faith. So I took a few deep breaths and tried to gain control of myself before I spoke again. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to take your normal morning dose of your medications. You’re going to wash them down with a big glass of water. And then you’re going to get in the shower and wash off while I call your doctor’s office.”
Her dark hair fell limply over one shoulder as she shook her head. “But they aren’t authorized to release my medical information to you.”
“I’m not too worried about that since I’m the one who’s going to be doing most of the talking during this call,” I pointed out. “But we’ll fix that as soon as we go into their office today. There’s no way I’m going to be kept in the dark if you get sick. I want to be added to everything.”
“They might not be able to see me that quickly.”
“I’m not going to give them much of a choice,” I warned her.
“Dillon—”
“I’ve been super careful to not throw my money around too much because I didn’t want to freak you out. Not when you were already leery of the Porsche and the big house.” It’d been a little weird at first, and I’d had to get creative because she didn’t care about brand names or the latest fads. But we weren’t talking about date night or a birthday gift here. This was her health. Maybe even her life. The bottom line was that money talked, and I didn’t care if I had to drain my entire trust fund if that’s what it took to get her seen immediately. “But I can’t let that matter right now. Not if it’ll make a difference in the care you’ll receive.”
Serenity (Fortuity Duet Book 2) Page 6