Cecily lets out a long, tired breath.
“Hard. Obviously. Alicia was the one who cried the most. The last time she saw her grandfather, he was the proud, affectionate man she’d always known. Now... all he can do is blink to signal that he understands.”
The bartender sets our drinks down. We murmur our thanks, and I turn back to Cecily, giving her my full attention.
She had to explain to the kids what happened to their grandfather, including the preliminary diagnosis of locked-in syndrome. He’ll stay fully aware, fully conscious, and able to understand everything happening around him, yet trapped inside his own body, without control or autonomy.
It’s a condition that sounds unreal until you picture it, and then it’s unbearable.
Naturally, she spared them the full, ugly details that would only make the pain worse. But she told them enough to get the gist of who their grandfather really is, explaining that this wasthe real reason they hadn’t seen or heard from him much lately. It wasn’t something that was going to change, either.
He was transferred to Houston yesterday, so Cecily told them and took them to say goodbye before he left. And from what she just told me, I gather that seeing him like that was more of a shock than finding out that dear old grandpa is a lying cheater.
“And how areyou?”
She takes a long sip of her drink before looking at me.
“It hurts. I won’t lie and pretend it doesn’t,” she says, a sad smile touching her lips. “I never wanted to see him like that. I’m not going to stop worrying about him overnight or pretend he doesn’t exist. But he and my mother made their choices… and staying close out of obligation, or letting my love for them keep putting me in a place where I keep getting hurt, isn’t a choice I’m willing to make.”
She pauses.
“As you know, I covered the hospital expenses the insurance didn’t cover. And the transfer,” she adds. “Even though my mom could afford it, they’re financially stable for the rest of their lives.”
She looks at a spot beyond my shoulders, her eyes distant. “But like my therapist said, no matter what bond you have with someone, even if you’re blood-related, there are cycles that need to be closed. And that’s what I’m doing.”
I reach for her hand on the bar, giving it a gentle squeeze. Just a reminder that she’s not alone and she’ll always have me. Then I shift the conversation, telling her about the security program I’m coding for a company, offering her a place to rest her thoughts for a while.
I catch her glancing toward the door again.
“Starting to think he’s going to stand us up?” I tease.
He better not.
“What?” She frowns. “No, of course not. He wouldn’t do that. He said they’d be a little late. They should be here any minute.”
The certainty in her voice tells me everything I need to know. Yeah. My friend is completely gone.
“Mark...” She hesitates. “Could you maybe, try not to be too hard on him? At least until you get to know him?”
I smirk. “Worried I’ll put him through an interrogation?”
If you only knew, Cecily...
She groans. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I talked you up so much to him. He’s going to think I was lying.”
I laugh and pull her into a half-hug, careful not to tip her off the barstool.
“Relax,” I say. “It’ll be fine. Let’s see if he makes it through the night with my seal of approval.”
Cecily rolls her eyes, and I lean in to kiss her forehead, just as the man of the hour reaches the bar with a blonde woman I recognize immediately.
Damn. She’s even prettier in person.
“Your hot Italian stallion just arrived,” I murmur, making her turn at the exact same moment.
Alexander smiles at her. She smiles back. And the rest of us might as well cease to exist. It feels like, to them, there’s nothing else in the room.
When he reaches for her, she slides off the barstool without hesitation. He pulls her close. One hand at her waist, the other at the back of her neck. He kisses her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally presses a chaste kiss to her lips.
