“He’s asking for you,” he confirms.
Of course he is. That’s how this goes. I tell myself I’m ready, but my heart is already pounding as I follow the doctor down the hall—each step toward the room pulling both the past and the future with it but barely crashing in the present. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to be here, but I need to make sure he’s doing okay.
He’s alive. He’s stable. But that was scary, and I need to figure out what he actually wants from me. Maybe it’s a kidney, and that’s why he reached back out.
“Hey,” I whisper, entering the sterile room in the ER.
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he says, trying to sit up, but I raise my hand to stop him. The last thing I need is for this man to get sicker trying to talk to me.
Even now, I’m still trying to look after him. Pathetic.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay and talk to the doctor about your health.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
“Well, there’s a lot that can fall into that everything.”
He lowers his head. “I know, and I don’t take it for granted that you’re here.” He coughs, lying back down completely.
“You need to rest.” The understatement of the century.
He doesn’t reply, and I’m thankful for the reprieve. Today has lasted a million years, and I’m ready for ice cream and mybed, but I can’t leave without knowing one thing. “Do you want a kidney from me? Is that why you reached out?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not asking you for that. I want to get to know you again before I…” He lets the words trail off.
“The doctor said you can live for a long time without a kidney. You need to come to treatment for that, though.”
“Yeah, but what for? Maybe this is my penance.”
I keep my head low, counting the small dots between the grout lines I’m sure, once upon a time, were white.
“I’ll leave you to it. Bye, Jerry.”
I turn, but his croaky voice stops me. “Holden.” He coughs. “I get my treatment three times a week, and my next one is tomorrow. If you’d like to stop by. They last about four hours, and I’m willing to answer any questions you may have.”
“The doctor says you miss treatments all the time.” Is this what he wants? Companionship so he can attend the lifesaving treatments he needs? Unbelievable.
“I’m willing to do them if it means I get to tell you. For what it's worth, I think you deserve to know everything, even if you hate me.”
I scoff.
I already hate you.
The words threaten to leave my lips, but they don’t. I might be angry, but I’m not cruel. I definitely didn’t get it from him, though.
“I’ll leave your name on the door, just in case.”
“Goodbye, Jerry.” They’re the only words able to leave my lips as I walk to my car and contemplate his offer.
Do I want answers? Yes.
Do I think he’ll give me the absolute truth? No.
I drive home in silence, engulfed by my emotions and everything I learned today. I hate it, this feeling of being out of control. I hate not knowing what’s real and what’s not. But aboveall, I hate that I want to take him up on it. I don’t know that I can live with myself, knowing I could do something to save a life and I didn’t, even if it’s his.
