Page 77 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

“Because it wasn’t bad enough yet, and partially because I'm type O negative.”

“I don't understand.”

“I can only get a kidney from someone else who's type O negative, and because type O is the universal donor, their kidneys often go to patients of other blood types who are more urgent cases. I've been on the transplant list for over two years but never high enough to get one.”

“How is that possible?” I shake my head. “They just let you slowly die for years?”

She shrugs slightly. “There are only so many kidneys available. They have to look for matches and treat emergent cases with priority.”

“That's bullshit.”

“Yeah, well…” She shrugs again. “It's my life. But I promised Grams and myself that I wasn’t going to stop living and just wait to die. I told her I was going to get my restaurant opened, no matter what. Otherwise, I would have been waiting forever and maybe never done it.”

I clench my hand around hers a little too tightly, and she winces and pulls hers away.

“Shit.” I scrub my palms over my face. “I'm sorry. This whole thing is just—”

“Too much to handle?”

I drop my hands to look at her. “What? No. Why would you…”

But I don’t finish my sentence because the woman staring back at me isn’t the same one I've gotten to know over weeks and weeks of bickering and flirting. This isn't that feisty woman who argued with me on the street over a parking spot or who stormed into my restaurant and literally poked her finger in my chest to tell me off over stealing employees. This isn't the woman who fucked with my menu or put salt in my sugar jar to sabotage me as payback for everything I did to her.

This woman is afraid. And she has every right to be, given what’s happening to her.

I can't pretend to understand anything the doctor said when I first brought her in. I can’t even begin to comprehend the way the body works or what it takes to accomplish the kind of thing we're talking about with Izzy's health.

All I do know is that death is a very real possibility for her. And here I was worried about a goddamn opening.

“Is Ashley here?”

I shake my head. “She had to go to work. She tried to switch her shift but wasn't able to. She's coming back as soon as she's done, but I'll go call her and tell her you're awake.”

She nods while keeping her half-lidded gaze on me. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

This woman doesn't have anything to thank me for. If I hadn't been pushing her, pushing this competition between us, none of this would've happened. She was healthy before—at least healthy enough she was living a normal life and was confident she could open a restaurant on her own.

Now, she's lying here, facing down the Grim Reaper all because of what a fucking dick I am.

Her eyes drift closed, and she relaxes into the bed. Just talking to me for five minutes was enough to exhaust her again. And even though she brushed off my touch before, I take her hand in mine and kiss it.

Something tells me it might be my last one.

* * *

IZZY

The door to the room opening stirs me from a light sleep, and I blink myself awake just as Thaddeus enters, a tablet in his hand and shrewd eyes narrowed on me over the brim of his dark glasses.

“Isabella, it’s nice to see you’re awake. Though, I wish I didn’t have to see you under these circumstances. How are you feeling?”

“Hi, Thaddeus.”

When you’re on a first-name basis with your nephrologist, it’s not a good sign for your health, yet I can’t think of him as Dr. Oakley. Not when he treated Mom for years and years and me since childhood. Not when he used to come to dinner at Grams’ house every Sunday night and became almost a part of the family.

I swallow and glance at Jameson, where he sits anxiously in the chair next to my bed.

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