Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
I look at Stian, and pain and worry are etched all over his handsome face.
He squeezes my hand and sits down again. “Were you in a lot of pain when it happened? I saw you collapse, and I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
I reach out and touch Stian’s cheek, which is covered in blond stubble. It looks as if he hasn’t shaved all weekend. I wasn’t in pain. I was in the blessed oblivion of that dark void. I can’t tell Stian or my parents that, because they’re already so afraid for me.
“You saw me?”
He nods, shifting his chair closer. “I was on my way to see you. I needed to see you so badly.”
My insides ache with the desire to be in his arms, and tears fall down my face. “I told you so many lies this week. I’m so, so sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know it’s not your fault.”
I shake my head, because as much as I’m grateful for his forgiveness, it doesn’t work that way. “It does matter. I’m not a child. I did this to myself.”
“I’m the one who pushed you too hard.”
“You didn’t, Stian. You were so patient with me. No, you have to listen to me while I’m still myself.” It’s the shock of being here, I suppose. She’s quiet for the moment.
I look at our joined hands, knowing that I have to confess something painful. “There are two sides to me, Stian. One that wants to get better, and one that doesn’t. That other half of me hates you so much. She hates anything that I love more than her. When I hear the things she says about you, I’m so ashamed because you’ve only been kind and good to me.”
Stian shakes his head. “It’s not you. It’s your disease. You’re going to get better, and you’re going to be my girlfriend. I won’t let her take you from me.”
“It’s too late. I don’t know how to be anyone’s girlfriend, and you deserve someone who’s got their life together.”
He keeps shaking his head and grips my hand tighter. “I’m not giving up on you.”
“You say that, but you will! You think I can go on dates with you? Go to a restaurant? Sit on the sofa with a movie and eat popcorn and ice cream? I can’t do any of that. You have no idea how much having a social life revolves around food, and all of that is shut off from me. You don’t know. I know.”
Stian leans back and glares around him, as if he’s searching for the patience to deal with what I’m saying. “Lacey, that’s not—”
“I knew it wasn’t going to work when you drove me home. It’s not your fault. The part of me that’s good knows you only wanted us to be happy.”
“Stop saying that,” he says fiercely. “All of you is good. All of you, no matter what she says.”
Quietly, lazily, she laughs. I was wrong. She’s not silent because I’m in shock. She’s settled back and is enjoying the show because she knows she’s won.
I pull my hand out of his grasp. “Thank you for coming. But I’d like you to go now.”
“I want to talk to Doctor Loftin. There must be something we can do together to—”
“Stian, you have to go.” Tears leak from my eyes, and I start to shake. “I swore that I’d never end up back here. I’m such a fucking disappointment.”
“Don’t say that. You’re not. It’s just a set-back.”
I know all the platitudes. Recovery isn’t linear. Fail up. But this time I’ve hit a brick wall, and he’s on the other side.
Mum has come in, and she’s standing on the other side of the bed, her expression reproachful. She thinks all of this is Stian’s fault because I was getting better before I started working for him. It’s not true, though. I wasn’t getting better. I was only existing.
“Please, just go away and leave me alone.”
Stian looks up and notices mum, too, and the specter of her motherly disapproval finally convinces him, and he reluctantly gets to his feet. Mum goes to him and firmly shepherds him away from her daughter and out of the room.
There’s nothing to do after that but lie there and wait. I don’t have to eat anything because I’ll be going into surgery, so she stays quiet. I doze for a while, and then I’m woken up by dad. There are several people in the room, nurses I think, and they’re adjusting my bed and rehanging the drip.
“Time for surgery, sweetheart,” dad tells me, leaning over the bed to stroke my hair. “You’re going to be just fine.”
I grip his arm. “Please call Stian after, and let him know I’m okay?”
He nods, his mouth a thin, tense line. “Of course. Your mum and I will be right here when you get out.”