Page 67 of Tell Me Lies

I feel like I’m going to puke. I’ve wanted to tell him for over a week now, but he wasn’t ready to hear it. And then Amelia got sick. But the truth is, I should have told him the second I connected the dots. And when he told me to lie to him, I’m sure he didn’t know what kind of secret I was keeping. The rightthing to do would have been to blurt it out right then and there. Instead, I held it in, afraid to lose him.

I give him one last look, watching him hold his sick daughter in his strong arms.

Logan Sterns isn’t a book boyfriend; he’s so much more than that. The type of Prince Charming I’ve always tried to write about, but never knew existed. Yet here he is. Right in front of me.

Amelia coughs again, this time making her cry. Lifting her up, he puts her head against his shoulder and rubs her back until she quiets down, dozing back off.

“Talk, Boston,” he utters, looking at me. “Now.”

“I should go,” I say, standing. “You need to be here for Amy. She needs you right now.”

Tears blur my vision. As much as I want to stay here for Amelia, it isn’t right. I have no business being here for her. Hell, the nurse thinks I’m a relative when, really, I lied the day she was born just so I could see with my own eyes that she was okay.

I didn’t know it was Logan Sterns’s kid back then. I had no idea. The only thing that has gotten me through the past three and a half years was knowing that the baby lived. When the walls caved in and I felt like I didn’t deserve to be here on earth anymore … I’d remember that the baby survived.

“Maci,” he says in warning as he watches me get closer to the door, “don’t walk out that door.”

Giving Amelia one last look, I shake my head and swipe some tears away. “I can’t do this, Logan. Not right now,” I croak. “I … I have to go.”

Before he can say anything else, I do the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I walk out of the room, leaving behind a child I have come to love like my own and her dad, who I truly believe is the love of my life.

But there is no room for selfishness in the name of love. And staying and continuing to hide the truth would be the most selfish thing I could ever do.

The sound of beeping machines is enough to drive me insane, but I keep it together for the only person who truly matters in my life. The one person who I know will always have my back and be by my side. Amelia.

“Daddy, I want to go home,” she whines, holding my phone in her hand as she watches Blippi on his excavator.

I keep my arm slung around her in the bed, nodding. “I know, babe. Soon, okay?”

The truth is, I don’t know when they’ll send us home. And while I hate this place and its sounds and smells as much as the next guy, I just want her to get better. So, for now, this hospital is exactly where we need to be.

“I want Clyde,” she whimpers. “And I want Maci.”

“I know,” I say again, this time in a whisper. “For now, Daddy is the only person allowed in here. You know, because the room is so small,” I lie, not wanting to tell her the truth that Maci ran out of here with no explanation. “She’ll be back as soon as she can. Promise.”

It’s the most out-of-character thing I’ve ever seen the woman do. Ever since she became Amelia’s nanny, she’s put my daughter first. But now, I don’t know what the fuck is going on.

That was three hours ago. And since then, Amelia has had a chest X-ray, a few breathing treatments, a swab of her throat, and a stick shoved up her nose. Oh, and a few Popsicles offered, all of which she refused. As much as I wish Maci were here, my only concern is my daughter and getting her better.

I haven’t seen Judy since Maci was here, but the entire staff has been pretty great. A few have poked their heads in to tell me they are big Sharks fans, but for the most part, they have kept it professional.

Suddenly, as if reading my mind, Judy comes back into the room, looking at Amelia and smiling. I swear she hasn’t aged in the three years since I’ve seen her. In fact, part of me wonders if she’s even wearing the same damn scrubs.

“Glad to see her awake,” she says, waving to Amelia. “Hey there, beautiful.”

She comes over, puts the oxygen reader on her finger, and waits for the result to appear on the screen. “I don’t want to panic you, but it looks like we’re going to need to give her an IV drip. She’s very dehydrated.” She speaks low, like she’s trying to keep the conversation between the two of us.

I give her a look, letting her know I heard her, before pulling my arm from behind Amelia’s back. I slowly scooch my body off the side of the bed. “Be right back, baby. I’m going to go talk to my friend Judy in the hallway, okay? She has some boring papers for me to sign.”

Amelia’s tired eyes don’t look up from the screen, and she doesn’t answer. Instead of repeating it and risking her wanting to come, too, I walk toward the door. Standing just outside the doorway, I make sure I can still look in and see Amelia.

“An IV? Like … a needle?”

“It sounds worse than it is, I promise.” She pats my shoulder. “It’ll help her feel better though. Her chest X-ray indicates shehas pneumonia, which likely is the result of a nasty virus. But she’s also severely dehydrated.”

“It just came on so fast,” I utter. “A few days ago, she didn’t even have symptoms.”

“It always does with our littlest patients.” She gives me a sad smile. “Anyway, I’m going to get everything ready so we can get that IV started. I heard her when I was in the hallway. I know she’s ready to go home. The sooner we start this, the quicker that’ll happen.” She cringes. “Although I’ll be honest with you, I think it could be a day or two before the doc lets her leave.”

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