Page 171 of Things I Wish I Said
The fuck.
I open my mouth and the cigarette falls to the ground while disgust curdles my stomach.
My chest aches, heart thumping as I back up a few paces, wrench my arm back and chuck the lighter as far as it will go.
It arcs in the air, landing somewhere on the street with a metallic ping. The pack of cigarettes follows, a roar of pain ripping from my chest.
Breathing hard, I stare out at the street, completely and utterly helpless.
“Grayson?”
The sound of my mother’s voice grounds me, and I spin around, swallowing in an effort to fight back the sting of tears.
“I know you thought this thing with her was fake, but it was real. We were real. But Ry’s most recent scans were bad, some shit went sideways with the award, and she broke up with me because she was upset and hurting. She left me there. And I just let her.” My voice cracks over the words. “I would’ve been there for her,Mom, I swear, but she upped and left. I didn’t know . . .”
“Oh, sweetie.” Mom reaches out, pulls me into her arms, and I crack.
All the pent-up anger and sadness and despair from the past year come out in a torrent—a rush of emotions so large, so monumental, they threaten to consume me.
My hands fist behind her back as my arms come around her, taking the comfort she’s offering. “I love her.”
“I know, honey.” She squeezes tighter and I bite back a sob.
“I was so mad at you after Dad . . . mad that you didn’t tell me how little time I had left with him. Because I would’ve stayed, spent every second with him. Prepared myself for what was to happen. Then after, you drowned yourself in the foundation while I was drowning alone, and I was so mad.”
“Oh, Grayson.” Mom's voice thickens. “You’re right. We should’ve told you. I’m sorry. I was just trying to cope, trying to honor him, but you’re right. I lost sight of you in the process, and by the time I realized it, I was so scared it was too late.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I whisper, feeling a weight I didn’t know existed lift off my chest.
I pull back and wipe my damp eyes. It’s been more than a year since I’ve felt like she and I were on the same team, but right now, it feels like we are.
Mom reaches up and brushes the hair off my forehead. “I saw the way that girl looked at you, and I can assure you she felt the same.”
I shake my head, my emotions ragged. “She says she doesn’t.”
“What do you think?”
“I think she’s running. Scared. Chemo didn’t work. Neither did immunotherapy. They’re running out of options, and Ryleigh’s done trying. There’s a trial, but she refuses to do it.” I inhale, preparing myself for the reality of my words. “She’s dying, Ma.”
Tears swim in my mother’s eyes, mirroring my own. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
I curl my hands into fists until my nails dig into the flesh of my palms as I fall back against the wall beside the washing machine. “I can’t lose her, but what if I can’t get through to her and make her see she has so much to fight for?”
Mom shakes her head. “You can’t want it for her. It doesn’t work that way.”
“I can’t let her go. I won’t.”
“Oh, honey. You and I both know you don’t always have a choice.”
Chapter forty-three
RYLEIGH
Two weeks after Ientered the hospital in Charlotte, I return home. The doctors kept me a little longer than anticipated, the infection in my lungs as stubborn as a mule. Kind of like me.
I stare at my phone, scrolling through Grayson’s latest text messages for what must be the millionth time, wondering how long it will be until he gives up. He’s left me voicemails, too, none of which I have the courage to listen to for fear I might break and call him when nothing has changed. I’m still sick, and as of two days ago, he headed to college. He’s already there, starting his new life. Any chance of seeing him before he left is gone.
I fight the disappointment that wraps around me like an invisible cloak at the thought.
