Page 80 of Jagged Line Paradise

“I don’t need you to do that.” She steps off the elevator, trying to tug her hand free from mine, but I just hold stronger as I move forward, matching her pace.

“Maybe you don’t, but I’m staying anyway.”

She strides forward, casting a sideways glance at me with her shifting eyes. Her shoulders seem to loosen a touch as I rub my thumb along hers. She takes in a deep breath as we approach the nurses’ station, and though it’s subtle, I feel her fingers twitch, grasping my hand a little firmer.

A nurse with light brown hair tied back in a tight ponytail comes around the desk as we approach. She meets Avalon in front of the desk, touching the side of her arm in a comforting manner. “Hey, sweetie, she’s in 442.” She glances up at me with a questioning look. “Everything okay? I was surprised you weren’t already here when I got in for my shift this morning.”

Avalon tucks her hair behind her ear, casting her eyes down toward the floor. “I know, I feel awful.” Her voice is tinged with shame and I fucking hate that. “I was…I just…I needed a break last night and I didn’t mean to turn my ringer off and—”

“Hey,hey,” the nurse says, rubbing her hand over Avalon’s arm. “It’s okay, sweetie. You do a lot for her. You deserve to have a break, too. She’d be here whether you were with her last night or not. It’s okay.” She gives a small, kind smile and I hope Avalon hears what this sympathetic nurse is saying. “Let me walk down with you. You know I can’t tell you anything without the doctor,” she rolls her eyes as she leads us forward, pressing a button on the wall to open a set of double doors in front of us, “but I do want you to be prepared.”

“Prepared?”

“She’s not doing great.” The nurse lifts her chin to look up at me. “Are you family?”

“Avalon and I have been friends since we were young.”Save for the decade wedidn’t speak. “Andrés,” I introduce myself.

“Megan.” She smiles. “It’s usually family only, but I think we can make an exception,” she looks at Lonnie, “if you’d like his support.”

There’s something in the way she sayssupportthat makes my teeth grind. The flash of generosity behind the brown eyes of this caregiver tells me that there’s a reason Lonnie will need support today.

Lonnie nods and I feel relief. I wanna be here for her in all the ways I wasn’t there for her before. And as much as I want to super glue my hand to hers, force my support and presence upon her, I know I have no right to do that. So, I’m thankful for the small nod of recognition that some part of her is willing to let me in—even if it is just because it’s easier to say yes than it is to say no.

Fuck, that sounds twisted.

We slow to a stop in front of room 442 and Megan pushes the cracked door open wide. Avalon tugs her hand and I loosen my grip, knowing I can’t hold her back. She moves quickly inside of the room and I slowly follow behind her.

Suddenly, I feel sick. I haven’t been in a hospital since…since Lonnie escaped my father. The beeping of the monitor, the smell of bleach and sickness, all comes flooding back and hits me like a ton of bricks. I swallow hard, take in a long, slow breath, and put my hand on the wall to steady myself.

I didn’t expect this reaction.

I can’t look at the bed.

I know it’s her mom there, but in my head, all I can see is Lonnie. All I can see is my eighteen-year-old best friend lying there in pain, her body mangled and bloody and bruised, all at the hand of my father.

Megan’s kindness shifts to me and I feel her touch on my arm. “Are you okay? I know it can be hard to see someone you know like this.”

“It’s not…” I clear my throat and force my shoulders back so I can stand a little taller. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

She smiles and nods, then moves past me into the room. My eyes lock on Lonnie as she dumps her bag on a chair in the corner behind the bed and says hello to her mom with a smile. There’s a thump of indignation in my chest because that woman doesn’t deserve a smile from Lonnie, doesn’t deserve her kindness and care.

When Lonnie was in the hospital, I was with her almost day and night, at her side, taking care of her and making sure the doctors did what they were supposed to do to fix her. I slept in the chair beside her bed. I was the one who was there for her. Her mom only showed up once a day for maybe an hour, just long enough for her sixty-minute sobriety to kick her in the ass and flip into desperation for a drink.

But I left Lonnie behind, too…almost as soon as she was well enough to take care of herself. Maybe that makes me a bigger dick than her mom.

Fucking hell.

“Is she able to eat?” Lonnie asks another woman beside her as I approach. “Has she had anything?”

The short, older woman with black hair and wrinkled skin the color of mine speaks softly. “No…no,mija.” This must be Louisa. She reaches out and strokes down the back of Avalon’s hair. “The doctors have called in hospice services.”

Her orange hair whips as she looks at Louisa, her face scrunching with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not looking so good,mija.”

Avalon looks down at her mom with a sigh and my eyes follow hers. Her mom looks…well, to be frank, she looks like she’s dying. Sallow sunken cheeks, rail thin, dry lips parted to take in ragged breaths, though oxygen flows through the tubes placed in her nostrils.

I know I have no right to think so callously, but the thought bursts in my mind all the same. I think she deserves to die this way. I think she deserves to suffer for her neglect of Avalon, for the emotional abuse, for the fact that Lonnie has spent any part of her adult life caring deeply for a woman who never showed her the same love and care.

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