Page 95 of We Own Tonight
“Stupid?”
Eli takes my hands in his. “I should’ve never pushedmyself.”
“What happened?” I ask, but the nurseenters.
“Hi, Mr. Walsh, I’m your nurse, Shera,” she smiles. “I’m going to start the Solu-Medrol in the IV, and then I’ll take your vitalsagain.”
“Thank you,” hesays.
I know thatdrug.
I don’t know why, but I swear I’ve heard itbefore.
I rack my brain to remember why the hell it sounds sofamiliar.
Then it hitsme.
Solu-Medrol is what they gave Stephanie when her nerve pain flared. It’s a drug she had several times to reduce the inflammation, and it’s only used for severeconditions.
My eyes meet Eli’s, and the floor drops out from beneathme.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Eli
Iseethe storms roll through her brown eyes. I watch the confliction without saying a word. There’s nothing I’m going to be able to say to explainthis.
I’ve been lying toher.
The nurse takes her time as the tension fills the room. I almost want her to stay, any second to prolong the inevitable, I’lltake.
There were so many times I could’ve said something. Randy laid into me pretty hard, and I deserved everyword.
He has no idea the guilt I’ve felt for keeping my illness from her. The nights I lie awake with her in my arms, hating myself because I’m a pussy and couldn’t let her go. I’m a selfish prick. I know this, but for the first time, I didn’tcare.
“All right, I’ll be back to check on you in an hour,” Shera explains and pats my arm. “I’m a big fan, Mr. Walsh. We’ll take good care ofyou.”
The knot in my throat doesn’t allow me to speak. My gaze turns back to Heather, and Iwait.
A single tear rolls down her perfect cheek. I watch as it lands on her lips, ones I know I’ll never feel again, and my heart breaks. I wonder if this could’ve been different. If I’d told her I was sick, would she have stayed? I’ll neverknow.
“You’re sick.” Her soft voice is filled withpain.
“Yes.”
Heather’s hands shake as she tries to wipe her face. “Do you have Huntington’sdisease?”
“No, I have relapsing-remitting multiplesclerosis.”
Her lips part, and I watch her face fall. Fear beams from her eyes before another tear descends. “Are—” She clears her throat. “Are youokay?”
Agony like I’ve never felt before spreads through my body. Not because I’m actually in pain, but because even though she knows I’ve been hiding my condition, she’s still worried aboutme.
I’m a fucking piece ofshit.
I don’t deserveher.
“I haven’t been symptomatic in a while. I usually take medication that helps keep things undercontrol.”
