Shoving my phone in my pocket, I open the door to Claudia’s room to see if she’s awake yet. She isn’t, so I close the door and start walking down the corridor towards the exit.
I need to get out of here for a bit.
I need to catch my breath because I feel like I’m drowning.
The sun welcomes me as I step outside the hospital. The day is alive with early morning humidity and the sounds of distant traffic and I stand still, close my eyes and let it all wash over me.
She better not die.
I squeeze my eyes and suck back the emotions as they rush at me.
Why her?
“Jett.”
My eyes snap open to find Presley standing in front of me, watching me with concern.
“Thank fuck,” I mutter and curl my arm around her neck so I can pull her in for a kiss. She doesn’t even blink at my morning breath but I make a mental note to buy some toothpaste on our way back up to the room.
I let her go and she stares up at me. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Some. You?”
“Not much. I couldn’t switch my brain off. How is she today?”
“She’s still asleep, but she coughed for most of the night and was burning up. I’m worried her pneumonia is getting worse and that’s something she can’t afford.” Hell, I shudder to think what it would mean for her if it does get worse.
Presley takes in what I’ve said for a moment. She moves into my space and leans her head against my chest while putting her arms around me. My arms go around her waist and I hold her tight. I’m so fucking glad she’s here. “I’m sorry, Jett,” she murmurs against me.
I run my hand up and down her back and stare into space, not wanting to ever let her go. “It’s weird, but good,” I say softly.
She doesn’t move, just keeps hold of me and asks, “What’s weird?”
“The way I’ve come to rely on you so much so soon. I never ever expected to feel this way about someone.”
Her body stills and I almost expect her to avoid the discussion, but she looks up at me and agrees, “I know what you mean.”
It’s a moment, a monumental fucking moment for us, because I’ve fought hard to get her to admit she wants what I want, and I know she’s giving that to me now. Any other time, I would have cracked the champagne after hearing those words, but today, all I can manage is to brush my lips across hers and then rest my forehead against her forehead.
She gets it, though. She knows what her words mean to me. A contented sigh tells me this. And not for the first time, I thank a God I’m not sure I believe in anymore for giving her to me.
The day passes in a blur. Presley doesn’t leave my side, and we spend the entire day at the hospital with my family. If the reason we were all together were anything other than what it is, it would have been a perfect day. My family and Presley are getting on well, and I’ve loved watching their interactions. Claudia, in particular, approves of my choice and has spent a lot of the day giving me knowing looks.
By four o’clock, I’m exhausted and decide to head home for a shower and a rest. Claudia’s feeling about the same as she was this morning, and the doctors are closely monitoring her, so I’m confident that leaving her will be okay.
“We’ll call if we need you,” my mother says as she waves Presley and me out of the room.
Although I’ve made the decision to go home, I’m finding it hard to leave, so Presley has to almost drag me down the corridors of the hospital and out to her car.
“You okay?” she asks as she turns the key in the ignition, watching me closely.
I lay my head back against the headrest and think about her question. Turning my head so I can look at her, I answer honestly, “I really don’t know . . . I feel numb with shock . . . and angry that she has to go through it again. And, fuck . . . stage four ovarian cancer . . .” My voice drifts off because I don’t want to say the words I am thinking. None of us need to hear those words, but I know we’re all thinking them.
She twists her body so she’s facing me, and rests her head on the seat. Reaching for my hand, she holds it while we sit with the car idling. The silence is too much for me; it gives my thoughts the space they need to move into focus more, and that’s something I don’t need at the moment. So I fill the quiet. “Thank you for spending the day with us.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Jett. That’s what I’m here for.” Her thumb traces lazy patterns over my hand as her eyes find mine.
“As in that’s what girlfriends are for?” I ask, wanting to have this conversation. Needing to have this conversation.