Page 124 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

With a dry laugh, Kate shakes her head and finally looks at us. “If it weren’t true, Wes wouldn’t have broken up with me fifteen minutes ago.”

“I thought you told him about your…” Mia hesitates, the word epilepsy catching in her throat. “I thought you already talked to him a little while ago?”

“I did. And he said it was fine. Didn’t even really bat an eye about it. Which only made it worse.” She wrings her hands in her lap, anxiety twisting her gorgeous features.

“What changed?” I prod.

“If I had to guess, he finally gave in and Googled it. Stupid Google,” Kate mutters under her breath, shaking her head again. “I swear, that thing is the bane of my existence.”

Ash grimaces. “You don’t know he Googled––”

“What else could he have done? Everything’s been great. Perfect, actually. He even told me he loved me.” She laughs again and wipes under her eyes with her index finger, a chink in her armor finally showing. “Can you believe it? I told him about my condition, he pulled me into a hug, kissed the top of my head, and said it was okay. But it wasn’t okay. Obviously,” she adds, her tone laced with sarcasm.

“Then, he’s an ass,” I announce.

Ash nods and walks to the kitchen, grabbing a pint of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer and a spoon from the cabinets, handing them to Kate.

With a tight smile, Kate lets the only comfort we can give rest in her lap. She looks more exhausted than I’ve ever seen. And that’s saying something. The girl works harder than anyone I know. Her semester is packed, and when she isn’t studying, she’s working or visiting her parents.

“You know what’s really stupid about it all?” she asks. “I haven’t had a seizure in a year. I’ve been taking my medication. I’ve been studying. I’ve been doing everything a perfect student has to do to succeed in life, and I still get the shaft.”

“He’s an immature asshole, Kate,” I argue. “Seriously. You deserve someone so much better than Wes.”

Another snide laugh bubbles out of her as she wipes beneath her nose with the back of her hand. “Sure, I do.”

“I’m serious, Kate. He doesn’t deserve you,” I tell her.

“And who does?” she challenges. “Santa Claus? The Easter Bunny, maybe? Ooo, how about a fae lord in need of a human princess?”

Mia frowns. “Kate––”

“I’ve tried looking for someone who accepts me in all my less-than-perfect glory, but the guy doesn’t exist. And every time I think he does, he finds out about my condition or sees me seizing firsthand, and poof. That’s it. He’s gone. And I’m not enough.”

“Kate,” Ash scolds.

Kate sets the untouched ice cream and spoon on the coffee table and pushes to her feet. “I’m going to study for a test in Professor Buchanan’s class. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Kate,” Ash tries again, but Kate ignores her and slips down the hall, closing her bedroom door with a quiet click behind her.

We sit in silence, none of us knowing what to do, or what to say, or how to act after everything Kate just unloaded. Because she’s right. It isn’t fair. She’s amazing. The fact Wes couldn’t see past her disease and left her high and dry? It’s bullshit. Of course, the girl has trust issues. She deserves to have those trust issues. But what she doesn’t deserve is to be punished over something she has zero control over. Actually, scratch that. What little control she does have, she’s utilizing to the best of her ability. She stays away from alcohol. She stays away from drugs. She goes to sleep at a decent hour and even wakes up early to make sure she doesn’t throw off her sleep schedule. The girl takes her medication at the same time every day and even puts up with her overbearing parents. She’s mature. Thoughtful. A go-getter. And the shit Wes pulled? It’s ridiculous.

But is it his fault? At least he didn’t string her along once he realized he couldn’t handle her disease. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?

Ash picks up Kate’s ice cream, puts it back in the freezer, and sits down on the cushion beside me, twisting her hands in her lap as she stares at the hallway leading to Kate’s room. Like she’s itching to comfort her.

We all are.

“Well, that sucks,” Mia mutters, putting her feet on the coffee table and settling back into the couch.

“Yeah,” I breathe out.

It really does.

“She needs someone older,” Ash decides. “Someone who doesn’t run at the slightest inconvenience, ya know? Someone who isn’t afraid to take on the hard shit because he knows Kate’s worth it in the end.”

“Right?” Mia adds. “All these college boys are pansies.”

“Except Colt,” Ash gushes shamelessly.

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