by J. L. Berg
“Thank you. Why don’t you come in?” I offered.
She nodded as Jude unlocked the door, and we stepped forward. I watched as she appraised the apartment. Over the last week, I’d managed to make it look a little less dismal. A few pillows and blankets on the couch, and the lack of boxes definitely helped.
I offered her a spot on the couch and turned to Jude.
“I’ve got to get to work, but I wanted to give your mom this,” he said, handing off a plastic bag and a piece of notepaper. He turned to my mother. “Her meds are in there, and I wrote down what she needs to take and when just in case it’s changed since the last time she was home.”
I thought my mother’s respect for Jude tripled in that moment as she looked down at the clear bag and silently nodded.
“Thank you,” she replied.
“You got it.”
I turned to him, and he gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
“I have a change of clothes at work, so I’m going to go. You two have a good night,” he said with a smile before heading out the door.
I joined my mom in the living room and watched in curiosity as she quietly gazed down at Jude’s handwritten note regarding my meds.
“He’s really anal.” She let out a short laugh as a single tear ran down her cheek.
“Just like you,” I answered before watching her face crumble. “Mom?” I said, moving closer to her. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing, nothing I can’t fix.”
She was lying. Her features were giving away that much. She’d obviously been doing everything in her power to keep it all together. She was like a jar of sand. It looked so strong on the outside, but just a tap in the right spot, and everything fell apart.
“Mom, please. You’ve spent your life hiding things from me because you thought you were protecting me. Look where it’s gotten us. Tell me,” I pleaded.
Her eyes met mine, and I saw complete devastation.
“Your transplant was denied.”
I couldn’t breathe. The air around me felt too heavy, too gritty, to possibly grasp and swallow down my shallow windpipe. My eyes frantically went to the door where Jude had just left through, and I suddenly wanted to rip it wide open and scream his name to come back.
I need him.
I need him to…what?
Tell me it’s going to be okay? Because it’s not.
None of this is okay.
I looked back at my mom, wide-eyed, with tears running down my face as she waited for me to say something.
“Denied?” I repeated just to make sure I heard the word from my own lips.
She nodded. “But we’re going to appeal it. They can’t do this. They can’t. We will fight. They don’t understand what we’ve been through, what you’ve been through. I’ll explain. I’ll explain everything. I’ll make them see. Marcus will explain, and we will get them to change their minds.”
All her words sounded like white noise. A buzzing in my ears just kept getting louder, stronger, and sharper.
I needed it to stop.
I needed it all to stop.
I wrapped my arms around her and let her sob as she repeated over and over that she would find a way to save me.
I didn’t listen. I didn’t hear any of it.
I was done being saved.
LEAVING LAILAH AT night was my least favorite part of our new living arrangement. I’d briefly thought about putting in a request for the day shift, but with her mom and Grace available at night, it made more sense for me to continue working the night shift.
I still hated it.
I hated not falling asleep with her at night, and I hated knowing she was sleeping alone in our bed.
I raced up the steps of our apartment building and smiled, thinking of how quickly everything had become ours.
Barely two weeks together, and she had ingrained herself to me, body and soul. Even the idea of sending her to her mother’s for a night sounded so horrible that I’d actually asked the woman to stay here instead just so I wouldn’t have to sleep a night without Lailah.
I quietly unlocked the deadbolt and stepped inside. Molly was asleep on the couch, and after a few nudges, she came awake.
“Hey, I’m home. You can stay here if you want though,” I offered.
She rubbed her eyes, which looked red and puffy, as she yawned. “No, I’m going to go home. You two need some time alone, I think,” she said, placing a tender hand on my shoulder.
I looked down at the gesture with a curious gaze. Okeydoke.
She saw herself out, and I locked the door behind her, shaking my head at her odd behavior.
Maybe she was just tired. Maybe she decided she finally liked me.
Probably not.
I was sleeping with her daughter after all.
Tugging my shirt over my head, I snuck into the bedroom and stopped when I saw Lailah was awake, sitting upright in bed.
“Hey,” I said. “What are you doing up? It’s late.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she answered vacantly.
Joining her on the bed, I slipped under the covers and cupped her chin. “Everything okay between you and your mom? She seemed a little off when she left a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah…no,” she answered, her utter calm never wavering. “I’m always this problem that needs to be fixed. Why can’t I just be her daughter?”
“Angel, please, you’re freaking me out.”
“My transplant was denied,” she finally said.
“Lailah, no.” My voice cracked.
I pulled her into my arms, and she willingly came. I tried pushing down the rising panic I felt with her sudden announcement.
“We’ll figure it out, okay?” I said. “This isn’t over. I’m sure there is a way to appeal it.”
“I don’t want to appeal it,” she said quietly against my chest.
My heartbeat faltered at her words, and I pushed back against her until I saw those baby-blue irises. “What do you mean, you don’t want to appeal it?”
“I’m tired of fighting, Jude,” she huffed. “They denied me once. Why would they suddenly approve me? This new insurance company isn’t like my old one. They don’t want to fork over the cash. How many more months am I going to agonize over an appeal just to see it denied again? I can’t take it anymore.”
“You’re giving up?” I whispered, completely stunned.
“It’s not giving up. It’s just accepting what is.”
I stepped away from the bed, the anger rising so fiercely that I wanted to punch the wall in. “And what exactly are you accepting? That you’re dying?” I yelled, turning back toward her.
She visibly flinched. “I just want to enjoy the time I have left, Jude.”
My head began furiously shaking back and forth. “No, no, I don’t accept that.”
“It’s not your decision.”
Tears stung my eyes. “This is all my fucking fault.”
Her tender touch brushed against my bare shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. You had nothing to do with this, Jude,” she said.
“I had everything to do with this,” I replied, pulling away from her. “I’m the reason you didn’t get that first transplant, Lailah. I’m the reason you’re still here, waiting for one.”
Her head turned to the side. “I don’t understand.”
“Megan,” I answered. “Megan was supposed to be your heart. You said it happened three years ago on Memorial Day weekend. That was when the accident happened. Megan’s parents wanted to donate her organs—or the ones that weren’t damaged. She was severely brain damaged, but her heart was in perfect condition.”
“No, it’s not possible,” she said, her voice distant.
“Yes, it is. They knew she was gone, but I didn’t. I begged and pleaded with them to reconsider. I told them they were killing her. I said I could bring her back. I did everything I could to change their minds. It worked, Lailah. I’m the reason you didn’t get that transplant.”
I didn’t know how long she sat there, staring at the stitching of the comforter, as I waited for her to say something, anything.
“Please, Lailah, yell at me, scream at me, tell me to get the hell out. Do something, anything but give me silence,” I begged.
Her eyes met mine, and they nearly cut me in two.
“When you came to my room, did you know who I was?”
Falling down on my knees in front of her, I took her hand. “God, no, I had no idea. I didn’t put it all together until later.”
“Was I some sort of project? A way to get rid of your guilt?” she mumbled.
“Jesus, Lailah,” I cursed as my head fell to the mattress. “No…maybe…I don’t know.” I lifted my head. “At first, yes. Maybe I felt responsible and acted out of guilt, trying to make amends for what I’d done…but not anymore,” I said. “Not anymore.”
Her long hair moved back and forth as her head shook against her palms. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
Crawling up beside her, I took her hands in mine, holding them against my beating chest. “Know that I love you. Know that this is real—what I feel for you. Know that you must fight for it. Fight for us, Lailah. Don’t give up.”
“It’s not giving up to want to spend the rest of my life with you,” she said softly. “Regardless of how we met or what brought us to this moment, I want to spend every minute I’ve been given with you, Jude. That’s not giving up. That’s living.”
“It is giving up when that life is being cut short! Don’t you get it, Lailah? Don’t you see? You’re my fucking life. I might have survived Megan’s death, but if you leave me, it will obliterate me. Life—it doesn’t go on without you.”
Tears poured down her cheeks as she met me halfway. Our kiss became frenzied and lacked any sort of finesse. It was raw and powerful. As our clothes hit the floor and our bodies became one, I looked into her eyes, into her soul, and I begged her to stay with me, begged her not to leave me in ruins.
I didn’t know why I awoke, but a few hours before dawn, I came to with an overwhelming feeling of dread. Looking around the room, I felt around the bed until I found Lailah’s sleeping form. She was lying still, a little too still. Her breaths were shallow and short.
“Lailah,” I said, shaking her.
Her eyes slowly opened, and that was when I began to panic.
“I don’t feel good,” she said, clutching her chest.
“Where’s your oxygen tank?” I asked, jumping out of bed to flip on the overhead light.
Her tank was in the corner, and I quickly set it up, positioning the mask over her head.
“My heartbeat is erratic,” she said through the plastic covering her mouth.
“I’m calling Marcus,” I announced, grabbing my phone from the nightstand.
Five seconds later, she passed out.
“Shit! Lailah!” I yelled, punching 911 into my cell.
I stayed calm and collected, my training kicking in, as I cradled her in my arms. She was thankfully breathing, but it was slight and not nearly enough.
“Come on, angel, stay with me,” I pleaded before kissing her pale lips.
I waited for the paramedics to come. Within minutes, the ambulance arrived, and we were being transported to the hospital. I held her hand the entire way as they started her IV and took vitals.
Marcus met us at the entrance of the ER, having rushed in after my panicked call. They let me follow her back into a room, but I was quickly left alone when they wheeled her away for tests.
Hurried footsteps came toward the door, and I looked up to see Molly standing there, breathless.
“Where is she?”
“They just took her back for some tests.”
She nodded, stepping forward to take the empty seat next to me. I was honestly surprised that I wasn’t being bitched out. I fully expected to be blamed for this entire event. Looking back on the evening, I worried I might have pushed her too much—dinner and shopping, the lack of sleep, all combined with the way we’d torn into each other just hours earlier.
“What happened?” Molly asked quietly.
“I woke up, and I just felt petrified. I looked over and heard her shallow breathing. I woke her up, and as I was calling Marcus, she passed out.”
She shook her head and dropped it into her hands. “It’s my fault, telling her about the transplant. It was too much stress. I never should have told her.”
“No, she deserved to know.”
“It’s just so hard not to protect her from everything,” she said softly.
“I know,” I answered.
We sat there in silence, waiting for her to return. The cheap plastic clock slowly ticked by the seconds on the wall, reminding us exactly where we were and why we were here.
“I wanted to hate you,” Molly said suddenly.
I turned to her and watched her brows furrow together.
“When you first showed up, so young and slick-looking, I thought you would break her heart. No one could possibly understand the cost of loving a girl like Lailah. Yet, you stayed, and I realized something yesterday. You just want the same exact thing I do.”
“And what is that?” I asked.
“To keep her here, no matter the cost.”
I placed my hand on hers. “We’re not going to lose her. No matter what, I promise you that.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but the door swished open, and a woman appeared, wheeling Lailah behind her.
“Hey,” she said weakly.
That one word was like a precious blessing from heaven.
She was awake.
“Hey back,” I answered, rising from my chair to take her hand. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. Been better, but I’ve been a ton worse, too. Marcus said I probably just overdid it—maybe a bit too much salt for dinner and lack of sleep—but he’s running some tests just in case.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook my head. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. We should have stayed in.”
“We’re not playing the blame game, Jude. This is how it goes with me. Sometimes, I have bad days, and yesterday was just one of those. It’s going to happen more often since…”
My head jerked up as my eyes widened.
She couldn’t possibly still be considering it—not after last night, not after I’d spilled my soul. Looking over at Molly, she glanced at Lailah and then to me. Her head tilted to the side as she tried to figure out what was going on.
“Jude, could you give my mother and me a minute?” she asked.
My gaze wandered back and forth between her and Molly, I finally settled back on Lailah and gave her one final silent plea. Please don’t do this, I begged with my eyes.
I drifted out of the room in a daze and walked to the other side of the hallway where I let my body slide down the wall until I hit the floor. Staring at the closed door, I waited, wondering what she was saying, what she had decided.
Three minutes later, I had my answer.
Loud wailing sobs echoed through the hallway as Molly had been delivered the devastating news of Lailah’s decision to forgo any further attempts at an appeal.
Sitting on the floor in a lonely hospital hallway with my back pressed against the wall, I felt my life ending—for a second time.
Irony is a bitch.
She can’t do this. Screw her and her sense of independence. I made a promise to keep her alive, no matter the cost.
No matter the cost.
Jumping up, I reached into my side pocket. Pulling out my cell, I dialed the one number I never thought I’d need again.
It rang three times before the bastard picked up.
“Hello?” the familiar deep voice answered.
“Roman, it’s me.”
“Jude?”
“The prodigal son returns,” I replied through clenched teeth.
“Does this phone call mean you’re ready to come crawling back?”
I could hear the sneer crystal clear over th
e airwaves.
“I’ve seen the news, jackass. Don’t act like you don’t need me.”
“Listen, little brother, you left us high and dry. Dad’s mind has gone to shit in the last two years—early onset dementia. The board members are calling for my head, so please excuse me for not groveling at your fucking feet.”
“Dad is sick?” I said.
“Yeah, asshole. You would know this if you bothered checking on your family.”
“Why isn’t it in the news?” I asked.
“Because I’ve kept it out of the news,” he spit.
Of course he did.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call and check on things. I was fucked-up, but I’m ready to come back.”
“Don’t do us any favors, Jude. I don’t need a visit. I need someone who is willing to go the distance. If you’ve seen the news, you’ve only seen half of it.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ll come back—for good. But I have stipulations.”
“I’m listening,” he answered.
“We’re going to run things my way this time. What I say goes. Do you understand?”
“If you can save this company and keep everyone employed, I’ll fucking make your coffee in the morning, brother.”
His concern for the employees surprised me. Maybe my brother had actually grown since I left.
“And I want access to all my accounts—immediately. No questions asked,” I said.
“Done.”
“Good,” I breathed out in relief as I braced myself against the wall currently holding me up. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
“You’re making the right decision, Jude,” he said.
I hit End, severing the call before I had the chance to change my mind.
There was no right or wrong decision here. Either way, I was fucked.
Lailah would live. I’d just guaranteed that.
I just wouldn’t be here to see it.
“She can’t know,” I pressed as Marcus and I sat in the dark cafeteria.
“All this time,” he said, looking at me in a completely different way. “I should have known. You never belonged here.”
“I was exactly where I was supposed to be,” I answered.