Page 76 of Hit the Ground
Before I could get the rest of my words out, he pulled me from my chair into his lap. This was quickly becoming my favorite place to sit. Caleb’s thighs were long and thick. His lap was practically a throne for me. His arms wrapped around me, strong enough to make me feel safe but never trapped. I leaned into his chest, trailing my fingers along his well-worn flannel, smiling at the solid warmth of him. He was broad and powerful, almost all hard lines and muscle. But with a soft belly pressed against me—which I completely adored—it made him feel even more human, a little tenderness in the middle of all that strength.
“Oh, okay, I’ll sit here,” I quipped.
“Seems to me you fit just right.” He picked up my casted wrist, humming as he examined it. “Are you ready to get this off?”
“Past ready.” I kept forgetting it was there and bumping it against everything. It made it harder to do both my jobs—and just about everything else. And it was a constant reminder of the attack. I’d never forget it, but it would be nice not to have the evidence staring me in the face.
His eyes flicked between mine. “You’re dreading it.”
My heart leaped into my throat. “The hospital. I’m dreading that part.”
“Can you tell me about it?” His big hand splayed over my abdomen. “About donating your kidney? What made you hate hospitals the way you do?”
I’d known this would be coming, and it was best to get it all out in the open, but I wished I could put it off a little bit longer. I couldn’t deny this to Caleb, though. He’d made it abundantly clear he was interested in everything about me, and Silla’s illness had shaped me into who I was.
“It’s a long story. Maybe I should move back to my own seat,” I said, though that was the last thing I wanted.
Caleb’s hand pressed more firmly on my abdomen. “There’s no reason for that. I’d rather you stay right where you are.” He kissed my temple. “Tell me.”
“Okay. If you really want to know.” He confirmed he did, so I drew in a steadying breath, ordered my thoughts, and began. “My sister, Silla, was born with a rare genetic anemia. Without treatment, she wouldn’t have survived childhood. Even then, her life expectancy was far too short. I came along when she was five, and they used my cord blood stem cells to help her. My parents never explicitly said it, but when I got older, I understood that was why they’d had me. I was born to be her donor.”
Caleb hissed, his arms tightening around me, but he stayed silent, giving me all his attention.
“She had to have transfusions, endless appointments, long hospital stays. I was dragged along because I couldn’t be left at home. I didn’t have playdates or friends outside of school. My whole world revolved around hers.”
“That’s when you started reading,” he filled in.
“Yes.” I smiled faintly. “We didn’t take vacations or go on adventures. Silla couldn’t, so we didn’t. And I didn’t mind so much, but I needed…something of my own. I needed an escape from staring at hospital walls and feeling invisible. Booksbecame that for me. My love for reading came out of those years, and I don’t regret it.”
I shook my head, only pausing to take a breath. “When I was seven, I donated bone marrow to Silla. The procedure itself wasn’t terrible. I’d been asleep, and when I woke up, I was sore, but it was fine. The worst part was waking up alone. Ihatedthat so much. I can still remember how scared I was, and no one was there. They were with Silla. I guess she needed them more.”
I plucked Caleb’s button, my head and heart thick with memories. “I don’t think I ever begrudged her the attention she got. I didn’t know any better. Even now, I think I understand. My parents didn’t mean to overlook me, but they had only so much bandwidth, and all of it was used up on my sister.”
“No excuse,” Caleb muttered fiercely. “None.”
“I know.” I sighed. “They weren’t malicious, but they did neglect me. As an adult, I can see that. Back then, it was my life. They gave their all to Silla, and there was nothing left for me. I kept waiting for the day I could leave home and finally be seen.”
His eyes swept over me in a tender exam. “They took your kidney before you left home.”
I nodded. “Silla’s kidneys were failing. I was willing—of course, I was. But my parents thought they had to bargain, so they promised to pay for any college, anywhere I wanted to go, if I did it. I chose California. I had the surgery, gave her my kidney, and…that was it.”
“Did you wake up alone that time too?” he asked, and I didn’t miss how pissed he sounded.
“I did. They were with Silla.” I touched my lower abdomen, where my scar was. “That was the last piece I’d had to spare. Once I left, I hardly heard from any of them. Silla had always kept her distance, so that was no surprise. I guess my parents hadn’t really been a surprise either.”
Caleb blinked at me like he couldn’t quite process what I’d said. “You gave her parts of your own body, and she kept you at arm’s length?”
My chest tightened with that old, familiar ache that always came when I thought of Silla. “I never needed her gratitude. I only wanted us to be on the same side. I loved her…but I can’t say I ever truly knew her.” My breath wavered. “She knew from a very young age she wouldn’t have a long life. Maybe keeping her distance was the only way she knew how to cope. Maybe she hated needing me, the healthy one, when she had to be the sick one. It wasn’t fair to either of us. I’ll never understand all her choices, but I know this: her life was hard. And I’m glad she’s not suffering anymore.”
A low sound rumbled from Caleb’s chest. His hand skimmed down my arm, over my thigh. His eyes locked on mine, a deep line furrowing his brow.
“Your life wasn’t easy either.”
I gave a weary smile. “But I’m alive. I’m here. I might be missing a few parts, but I’m still whole. I’m healthy. That’s more than enough to be grateful for.”
“You’re too good,” he muttered, almost angrily. “Too forgiving.”
“I haven’t said I forgive them, Caleb.” I flattened my palm on his chest, right over his thumping heart. “I understand my parents, but they made me feel like I was a pane of glass. When I left, they’d let me go without a fight. But what good does being angry with them do? They’re not here. Even if they were, we couldn’t repair something that had never been right to begin with. All I can do is let it go and try to make myself be seen.”
