Chapter 16
Making your bed and lying in it was probably one of the worst things ever. I hated that stupid saying with the fierceness of a thousand burning suns, but it was true. When you were disappointed or saddened by something you had no control over, it was easier to let it go, but when it was something that you did to yourself, it was so much harder to deal with.
And this mess with Reece was my fault. Sure, it took two to tango, and it took one to get plastered, but it was me who hid the truth of the night a year ago. I’d betrayed his trust. To some it might not be seen as a big deal, but it was to Reece. Honesty was everything to him.
Katie stopped by during my shift Thursday night, right before I took my break. One look at me, and she knew what was up. Or maybe it was her super-stripper powers.
Grabbing a basket of fries from the kitchen, we hid out in the office. She hoisted herself up onto Jax’s desk, which made me smile in spite of how crappy I felt. Her dress, if one could call the shirt a dress, did not cover her ass when she sat down.
“Tell me everything,” she ordered, holding the basket of fries.
I sat beside her and told her what went down. Trusting Katie, I gave her all the details. Well, I didn’t go into that much detail about how I was gripping the headboard Tuesday morning. That wasn’t a necessary part of the convo.
When I was finished, Katie had already consumed half of the fries. “Honey buns, here’s the thing. There’s a whole lot of could’ve and should’ve that has gone on. You can’t change the past, and let’s be honest, you didn’t drown a kitten.”
I made a face.
“Stop beating yourself up over it. You know you did wrong. You apologized and you meant it.” Handing over the basket, she hopped off the desk and stood in front of me, hands on her hips. “If he can’t get over that, then he’s truly not worth your time. And I mean that in the most non cliché way possible.”
I popped the last fry in my mouth and then placed the basket aside. “I know, but I like him—”
“You love him,” she corrected, throwing herself on the leather couch against the wall.
Rolling my eyes, I waved my hand dismissively even though my heart turned over heavily. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Why else have you been crying since Tuesday if you don’t love him?”
I cut her a narrowed look. “Because I like him a lot. I’ve liked him for a long time. And we were friends and now it’s ruined. And I haven’t been crying since Tuesday.” At her look of doubt, I scowled. “Not the entire time.”
She arched a blond brow. “Okay. First thing you need to do is stop lying to yourself. Just admit that you’ve been in love with him for ages. There’s nothing wrong with that.” When I opened my mouth, she raised a hand. “Secondly, fuck him. Not literally, unless he comes around, but like I said, if he doesn’t get over this, it’s on him, not you.”
Nodding, I tucked my hair back behind my ears as I slipped off the desk. I got what she was saying.
“Calla and Teresa are coming up next weekend. The four of us need to get together and get shitfaced,” she announced, rising from the couch like a goddess who was summoned. “Like, we need to get stupid drunk, talk about how stupid boys are, and then wake up wishing we never see another bottle of liquor.”
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“Like as drunk as the night before Calla left us,” she continued, and I cringed, knowing where she was heading with this. “Remember? You were convinced that one of those plastic closet organizers could hold your weight?”
“It did hold my weight,” I said crossly.
She threw her head back and hooted with laughter. “Yeah, for like thirty seconds. You shoved yourself in that damn thing, with your legs touching your chest.”
“You zipped me up!”
“And that thing broke and I thought you broke your ass.”
I thought I broke my ass. So did Calla and Teresa, which reminded me of how grateful I was that I hadn’t broken anything, because none of the girls could stop laughing long enough to make sure I was even alive.
Fucking tequila.
Katie bounced forward and hugged me, squeezing me so tight I thought I’d pop. “It’ll be okay. He’s going to come around.”
I hugged her back. “You think this or are your superpowers telling you this?”
She giggled as she pulled away. “Call it feminine intuition.”
I cocked a brow. “Really?”
“Yep.” Katie flounced to the door. “I’ve got to go drop it like it’s hot, and yes, this is hot.” Smacking her ass, she laughed. “Peace out, homie homes.”
A smile pulled at my lips. Katie was . . . she was different and she was awesome. Straightening my glasses, I told myself not to do it, but before I left the room, I grabbed my purse out of the cabinet and pulled out my phone.
The small smile faded from my lips. There was a missed text, but it was from Dean, and seeing it really knocked my feet out from under me. Besides the fact that the last time we spoke, I’d hung up on him, it was the same message I’d sent Reece earlier and had received no response from.
Hey.
I let out a shaky breath as sadness swelled. Holy crap, I was the female version of Dean right now, texting someone who was so not interested. Had he stressed over that text as much as I had? He’d probably gone through three different versions before settling on the innocuous greeting. Seeing that truly was a kick to the chest. My heart ached.
Slipping the phone into the back pocket of my jeans, I swallowed the cluster of tears that were threatening to turn me into a fat, angry baby. I needed to pull it together. I made this mess. Reece made his decision. Contrary to what Katie believed, I wasn’t in love with him.
I hadn’t fallen that far for him.
I hadn’t fallen for anyone that hard and I never would.
Friday afternoon, I wasn’t thinking about Reece at all. A different kind of problem had surfaced, a far more serious one than my relationship or lack thereof.
Nurse Venter stood beside me, at the foot of Charlie’s bed, her face contorted in a sympathetic expression that really did reach her tired eyes. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
Afraid to speak, all I could do was nod. She left the room, quietly closing the door behind her, and I was stuck standing. It was like someone had pressed the pause button on life.
Charlie was back on the feeding tube.
I wanted to close my eyes, but what was the point? It didn’t change what I was seeing. It wouldn’t undo anything. When I opened them up, Charlie would still be in the same position. His life would not somehow rewind.
The pale lilac comforter was tucked up to Charlie’s slender chest, hiding everything from the shoulders down, but I knew that his hands were restrained under the blanket, secured to the bed.
I hated that, absolutely loathed that he was tied up. It seemed too inhumane and cruel even though I knew there was a valid reason for it. The moment the feeding tube was hooked up, he’d started pulling at it. They did this for his own good, but it still hurt to see it.
I forced myself to the chair next to his bed and sat stiffly, placing the tote beside me. Reaching out, I found his hand under the blanket and folded both of mine over his. “Charlie,” I whispered. “What are we going to do?”
Charlie’s eyes were open, and I wished they were closed, because there was something wrong with them. They were dull, absolutely lifeless. I would’ve thought he was a mannequin if it wasn’t for the occasional blink or tremor that coursed down his arm.
Fear clawed at me as I stared at him. Oh God, he didn’t look good. I couldn’t remember him ever looking this frail and sallow before.
Minutes ticked by and the only sound was the chirping of birds outside the window and the low hum of conversation from other rooms. There was a ball of cold dread sitting in the center of my chest as I sat there. This . . . this reminded me of my grandfather who’d been sick and in hospice care before passing away. I was a little girl then, but I remembered my mom sitting at a bed just like this, holding my grandfather’s hand and whispering to him while he slept so deeply I couldn’t remember seeing his chest move.