Page 110 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Jamie

Jamie cut through the store and didn’t speak again until he was on the sidewalk, balancing two cups of coffee and a pastry bag in one hand. “What? Who is this?”

“Yuka. Elliott’s in the bathroom and I swiped her phone, so we don’t have long. You’d better tell me what’s going on and why the hell you’re not here before I send someone to kill you and make it look like an accident.”

It might not have been the best idea in the world to ask for space this weekend, and he didn’t plan on doing it again, but he’d told Elliott what he needed and she’d seemed fine with it. Had he totally misread her? Was she so upset she’d called Yuka? “I—wait. What you do mean, why I’m not there? And you’re on her phone ... Are you with her? Where is she?”

The other end was silent for a beat. “You don’t know, do you?”

A chill shot down his spine. “Don’t know what?”

Seconds later, two cups of coffee splattered across the pavement, and he was running.

Jamie had made the drive between Omaha and Lincoln several times over the years. It always took him about forty-five minutes to make the commute.

Today he made it in thirty-six.

He went straight to Elliott’s parents’ house, parking behind Yuka’s Hyundai. He was in such a hurry he was halfway out of his seat before he sat back down to turn off the ignition. His heart was in his throat as he knocked on the door, shifting on his feet.

Elliott’s mom opened the door. “Hi, Jamie. Come on in.”

“I’m so sorry. This weekend was ... I just ... I didn’t know. She didn’t call me,” he rambled as she put a gentle hand on his back to urge him fully inside, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with her; I can’t believe she was alone. I’m so—”

“It’s okay,” Mary’s calm voice interjected. “She called Yuka and came here. She’s not alone.”

He dropped his chin to his chest, worried and ashamed. Her tone wasn’t accusatory. On the contrary, she seemed to be trying to comfort him. But still, he should have been with Elliott. Should have known what was happening. He would have been if he hadn’t—

“Yuka’s in the kitchen with Elliott’s dad.”

He lifted his gaze to Mary’s, the soothing smile on her lips not quite enough to cancel out the worry line between her brows.

“Is Elliott . . . ?”

Mary tipped her head toward the stairs. “She’s in her room.”

He nodded his thanks and took the stairs two at a time. Elliott’s door was closed, and he knocked softly before easing it open. “Elliott?”

The switch was off, but natural light filtered in through the window. He swallowed as memories flooded him of the last time he’d been in this room, laughing and making love to her in the dark of the night, trying to be quiet so her parents wouldn’t hear. His eyes searched the room—the desk, the chair in the corner, the bed.

That’s where he found her. Curled on her side, facing him, watching him silently with red-rimmed eyes. He could do nothing but go to her, and he hoped she didn’t ask him to stop or stay back. He didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t touch her.

She said nothing, so he kept moving, toeing off his shoes and putting one knee on the bed. He reached out to stroke her hair with a trembling hand. Still no reprimand, and when she closed her eyes and a tear slipped down her cheek, he nearly broke.

“Baby,” he whispered, lowering himself down fully and curving his body around hers. She burrowed into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, panic and love warring for a stronghold in his chest. He couldn’t hold her tight enough, couldn’t wish hard enough he could take this from her.

She cried in earnest now, and he just held her, rubbing her back and sliding his fingers through her soft hair, trying to make up for the hours he hadn’t been beside her to hold her up. His insecurities about becoming his father seemed so meaningless compared with what she was going through.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked.

“I—” She started, then paused to take a breath. “I don’t know if I can do this again.”

Yuka had told him the basics—that something was wrong with Elliott’s lab results but they didn’t have a definite diagnosis yet. Relapsed leukemia was on the list, but it wasn’t the only possibility.

“I hope you don’t have to,” he said. “But if you do, you can. You’re the strongest woman I know, and I won’t leave your side. I’ll be there the whole time if you want me to be.”

“Of course I want you there.”

He kissed her forehead once, twice, and slid his hand underneath the hem of her shirt, just a little, so he could feel her skin. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there today.” He was sorry he wasn’t the first person she’d called. He wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t become her person yet, or ifhe had but his actions this weekend had made her hesitate. “I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

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