“Montana?” I nearly shrieked. “Montana? I don't want to go to Montana.”
“Why not? I heard it's beautiful.”
“Yeah, and fucking cold. It's going to be winter soon. It snows there.”
“It snows in Washington too.”
“Not like in Montana. Compared to Montana, what we get in Spokane is like rain. Most times, it is rain.”
He chuckled. “Come on. Give it a try. If you don't like it, we can leave.”
“I have to go to work, Jake. I have a good job. I was lucky to get that internship.”
“You can call them tomorrow and ask for some time off. Just a week. That's all I need. Please.”
“I don't know.” I chewed at my lower lip.
“Indie, I just left my fucking deathbed and all I'm asking for is a week.”
I sighed. “Unfair. I've given it over a year, Jake. I've been with you every step of the way.”
Jake's expression immediately softened and filled with love. He lifted my hand and kissed it. “I know, baby. And I'll love you forever for it. You don't know how hard it was for me to lie there, losing my strength and health—everything that made me feel like me—all while you watched. But if you hadn't been there, it would have been worse. I hated myself for wanting you with me, then hated you for coming every fucking day. It was insane.”
“I understand. I hated you too.” I snorted a laugh.
Jake laughed with me. “Fucking cancer.” He stared out the windshield and swallowed roughly. “I was going to die. It had me.”
“I know. I still can't believe that I'm sitting here, with you driving my car. This feels surreal.”
“Look. There's a diner. Let's get some breakfast and we can talk some more.”
“Okay.” I relaxed. Maybe my boyfriend wasn't a demon after all.
Chapter Four
No, Jake wasn't a demon. I mean, what kind of insanity was that? But, speaking of insanity, he was experiencing some kind of psychiatric issue. I was sure of it. I don't know if it was a type of PTSD or what a professional would label it, but I assumed it came from his extended near-death experience. Jake had almost died. For a long time. And now he was back to his old self. No recovery period, just blammo! Here's Jake! That had to influence the psyche. It was certainly affecting mine.
I stared at my handsome boyfriend as he gestured exuberantly, his eyes alight with zeal. First, he showed me pictures of Helena, Montana, on his phone. I eyed that phone with the careful interest of a hostage. Which was ridiculous. I wasn't a hostage. And why was I thinking about slipping the server a note to call the authorities? I guess it was because of that psychotic break I thought he was experiencing. But if I did manage to alert someone with enough power to take Jake back against his will, would they? Leaving a hospital without permission wasn't a crime. I knew that for a fact. They have no legal right to hold anyone in a hospital. You do not have to sign discharge papers to leave. So, what reason would they have to apprehend Jake? I could say that he took me against my will and I believed he was having a mental breakdown, but it would be my word against Jake's. And Jake wouldn't seem crazy to anyone who didn't know him. At best, they'd get me away from him. Butthen Jake would never forgive me. And I wouldn't be there to stop him from getting sucked into a cult.
So I kept my hands in my lap and smiled politely at the server.
At least I had my appetite back. I looked at the picture on Jake's phone of a classic cathedral, its red spires dusted with snow, and then down at my empty plate. When was the last time I'd eaten so much? Oh, yes. It was the dying boyfriend diet. Works like a charm. You have practically no appetite. The weight just falls off. Side effects are: random bouts of crying in public, hysteria, stomach cramps, dizziness, despair, nausea, and diarrhea.
“Anything else I can get you two?” the server asked as she cleared my plate.
I looked up at her. “What desserts do you have?”
Even though the meal was technically our breakfast, it was close to noon, so the request didn't seem odd. Not that it would have mattered to me if it were. I needed something sweet. It had been ages since I had enjoyed dessert.
“Well, we got a few different pastries, chocolate cake, and three types of pie today,” she said.
“I'll have the chocolate cake,” I said. “Can I get it with ice cream?”
“Sure thing, sweetie,” she said. Then she looked at Jake. “How about you?”
“Do you have cinnamon rolls, by any chance?” Jake asked.
The request made me smile. Cinnamon rolls were his favorite indulgence.
