Page 24 of Someone to Watch Over Me

“That’s a fair concern.”

“None of this feels fair.”

“It’s not. It’s extremely unfair that this happened to a young man in seemingly good health and that you were the one who found him.”

“Thank goodness I was living here, or he might’ve died on that floor.”

“Oh, Lex, I wish I could hug you right now.”

“Thanks for that and for calling. I’m all right. I promise.”

“Check in later to let me know how it’s going?”

“I will. Thanks again.”

“Any time.”

After ending the call with Roni, I read more texts of support from Derek, Naomi, Christy and Hallie. Their kindness brings me to tears, but that doesn’t take much at the moment.

Tom’s name pops up in another text:Have I scared you away? Are you moving out as we speak? Running for your life from the guy with the bad ticker? Please don’t. I promise I won’t drop dead on you.

I’m laughing even as I continue to cry. He makes me laugh a lot. That’s one of the things I love best about living with him. People say laughter is the best medicine, and he’s certainly proven that to be true.

I’m not moving out. Not yet anyway…

Ouch. Nurse, more pain meds, please.

I respond with laughter emojis.Quit being funny. You’re supposed to be recovering.

My heart will never recover if you run away from me. Don’t do that, okay?

Tom…

Lexi… Please don’t go.

I close my eyes, as if that will stop the flood of tears. It seems that nothing can stop them, especially when I’m standing on the precipice of a much bigger deal with him—and I know it. There’s no denying that’s what he’s asking for from his hospital bed after having a freaking heart attack.

I summon all the courage I have left after the grueling battle I endured with Jim before I respond to Tom.

I’m not going anywhere.

6

Tom

My sisters are driving me batshit crazy with their hovering, their unsolicited advice about all aspects of my life and their bickering with each other. I wish they’d leave so Lexi could come visit and we could pick up where we left off by text earlier.

When she said she wasn’t going anywhere, my fragile heart soared with hope, excitement and anticipation. I’m surprised the nurses didn’t come running due to a spike in my heart rate.

My sisters are talking over me as if I’m not here. “Ladies.” They continue as if I didn’t say anything as my throat continues to protest any form of speaking or swallowing. “Ladies!”

This time, they hear me.

“What?” Cora asks.

“Enough with the arguing. I’ve already spoken to the hospital social worker, and she’s arranging for at-home nursing care for when I’m released. I don’t need to go home with either of you, and frankly, I don’t wish to.”

“Be serious, Tom,” Lydia says. “You can’t go home alone after nearly dying.”

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