When he finally leaves, he gives me a look that says everything he can’t say out loud.
He’s scared, too.
A couple hours later, the door opens again. Cam’s back, carrying a bag, a coffee cup, and a look of exasperation.
“You need to eat,” he says, setting the bag down on the rolling tray. “And at least change your damn clothes. You looked fucked up.”
I rub a hand over my face. “Thanks, man. Real nice.”
Cam shrugs and shoves the coffee in my hands. “Just speaking facts.”
I take a sip, the warmth settling into my bones. I don’t realize how much I need it until it hits me. The exhaustion, the fear, the sheer helplessness—it's all drowning me.
Cam sits down in the chair Frankie occupied earlier. After a long silence, I lean back in my chair, staring at Emma’s face, willing her to open her eyes. The words flow out in a wave, like they’ve been locked up for ages and I finally set them free.
“I remember a specific day. I think Emma was sixteen. It was summer, probably one of the hottest days of the year. You were at work, and I was stuck driving her and Liv to the lake. I bitched about it the whole way, swore I had better things to do. When we got there, Emma ran straight to the water and jumped in, clothes and all. She was laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world. I remember watching her, thinking… fuck, I’m in trouble.”
Cam huffs out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That was the moment?”
I nod. “She was so damn happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone glow the way she did that day. And I just knew. I knew I was never going to be the same after that. I knew that I wanted to be the one to make her glow like that from that moment on.”
Cam looks up and meets my eyes.
I swallow hard, emotions thick in my throat. “Cam, I can’t—” My voice cracks. “I can’t lose her. I don’t want to grieve her longer than I ever got to love her.”
“I know, man,” is all he says, all he can say.
37
ALEX
She’s slipping away a little more every day.
I can feel it.
The doctor tries to keep his voice neutral when giving updates, but I can hear what he’s not saying: She’s not getting better, she’s getting worse. We’re running out of time. We need a heart. We need a fucking miracle.
Liv and Sophia come by late in the afternoon, their arms full of flowers that Emma will probably hate—big, dramatic, too much pastel coloring for her dark soul. But I know that she’d smile anyway, tell them they are beautiful. It’s the kind of person she is. Always making other people feel like the most important person in the room, even when she’s the one fighting to stay alive.
After days, I finally work up the courage to leave the chair and go into the hallway, giving them a moment alone with her. I need a second to breathe anyway, if I even remember how. The second I’m outside the door, I lean back against the wall, closing my eyes for what feels like the first time in days.
The door clicks open a while later. Sophia walks to me first, giving me a quick hug before heading towards the waitingroom. Liv trails after her, stopping in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest as she studies my face.
“You look like shit,” she says bluntly.
I huff out a laugh. “So I’ve been told.”
She shakes her head. “You’re not going to leave this hospital, are you?”
“No.”
She sighs. “Didn’t think so.” Then, after a pause, she tilts her head, looking at me like she’s seeing straight through me. “You know, I always figured there was something between you two.”
I blink. “What?”
Liv smirks. “Oh, come on, Alex. You were never as subtle as you may think.”
She has no idea how fucking long I’ve been in love with Emma or how many years I wasted pretending I wasn’t.
