Page 87 of The Two Last Moments

“Want to take some home?” Danny asks.

I smile. “I’ll make a bouquet for Nina.”

“She’d love it. I’ll go inside to pay.”

I hum a melody as I pick and choose from the array of flowers. Some pink roses, because they’re classic like Nina. Pink dahlias. A few eucalyptus branches.

But I stop moving when goosebumps prickle all over my skin. My happy feelings wither and decay.

It’s that instinct I get sometimes. That awful feeling that someone is watching me. I try to breathe through it as I scan the faces of people on the street. Most of them aren’t paying me any attention, just going about their mornings.

Then I see him a block away. A man with a dark windbreaker, his hat pulled low, his eyes in shadow. His body is turned partly away from my direction. But I’d swear he’s watching me. I canfeelhis eyes.

Every instinct inside me is screaming. My throat closes up. My lungs stop working, and the flowers droop in my hand.

I know him I know him I know

Danny walks outside, and the bell on the shop door jingles. “Paid up. Are you—Lark? What’s wrong?”

“Danny, I saw—” I start to turn back and point. But the man is gone. “He was just…” The words won’t come out.

“What did you see?” Before I can reply, his phone rings. Danny pulls it from his pocket. Looks at the screen. A crease appears between his brows. “It’s Matteo.”

I’m still trembling. I stare down the block at the corner where the man in the cap was standing.

Who was he? Was he really watching me?

Is this how I’ll always feel, terrified I’m being followed, looking over my shoulder and wondering,will this be the day that it all catches up to me?

The perfect bubble of our night together vanished so quickly. Like it had never been real.

Danny shifts his weight as he answers the phone. Matteo starts talking, and the color leaches from Danny’s face.

“Is she…?” Danny’s Adam’s apple quakes in his throat. “Okay. Okay. I’m on my way.” Danny lowers the phone, his face stricken.

A dahlia drops to the sidewalk. “Nina?” I ask.

“We need to go.”

* * *

I grabour bags from the room while Danny gets the car. We race home, pushing the Charger’s engine. Danny has barely said anything, but I feel the tension and anxiety pouring off of him in waves.

“Matteo said Nina isn’t breathing well,” he says haltingly. “It’s possible she’s overdosed on morphine.”

“Did Matteo call an ambulance?” I ask.

“No, Lark,” Danny says tightly. “She’s in hospice. That means no treatment or resuscitation. That’s not how I want things to be, but it’s Nina’s choice.”

My stomach twists. I can’t imagine having to make these kinds of decisions for my life, or for someone I love.

I reach over and touch Danny’s arm, but he’s gripping the steering wheel with both hands. I can’t tell if he notices my touch or not. I want to say something to reassure him, but what?

If he loses Nina now, when he was withme, I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive myself. I know that’s ridiculous because it’s not my fault. Nina’s illness is terminal. We all know that. But it’s too soon for her to be gone. Way too soon.

Danny punches the gas at the next green light. It feels like hours by the time we turn onto Danny and Nina’s Street, though it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes.

The moment we’re out of the car, Danny races for the door. I’m right behind him. When we get into the house, voices are coming from Nina’s room. Danny runs straight there, but my steps slow in the hallway outside Nina’s door.

---