Page 63 of Diverge

Chapter Twenty

Billie

The dried tears mixedwith mascara have formed hard valleys on my cheeks as I sit here with my head in my hands, leaning forward on the hospital floor in the hallway outside of Finn’s room. Finn’s parents are currently in the room with him, Grace, and Michael, too.

My stomach churns as one word continues to float through my mind, laying poison into every corner it touches.

Cancer.

Tears, there are none left.

My entire body is numb, the only thing I can feel is the cracks in my heart ripping apart once more. All my emotions mould into one like a tumbleweed.

How did I miss this?

How could they not tell me?

How couldhenot tell me?

I clench my jaw and swallow, pushing down the bile waiting in the pit of my stomach.

“Darling... Billie...” My head flies up as I watch Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie walk out of Finn’s room. I jump to my feet. “Can I see him?”

They nod softly as I brush past them and walk into the room. Grace is seated beside Finn, Michael standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder. My lip wobbles as I see Finn lying on the bed with multiple machines hooked up to him. He turns his head to the door, and his eyes meet mine, pooling with tears. I rush over to him, taking a seat on the chair beside his bed and place my hand in his.

“We’ll give you both a minute,” Grace utters as she and Michael walk out.

His hand grips on to mine tightly as a tear rolls down his cheek.

“I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner, B.” Fresh tears sting the back of my eyes as I fight hard against them.

“Relapsed...” I shake my head in disbelief as the doctor's words continue to ring through my ears. “You relapsed.” I weep as the words leave my mouth. He doesn’t say anything, instead he grips my hand tighter. “How long?” I finally ask through the sobs.

Sadness overcomes his face as he takes a steadying breath.

“I was diagnosed at twenty-two,” he says as my chest tightens at his words. My knuckles go white as I squeeze his hand as if he was slipping away from me. Letting the sadness take me, I whimper as sobs rack through my body.

I place my forehead on our joined hands, and his other hand caresses my hair. That was years ago. Years he has spent fighting a battle that I knew nothing about, and here I was so angry at him for what seems like nothing now.

“Don’t cry, B.” Once my breathing evens out and I gain my composure, I crawl onto the bed with him, resting my head on his chest, feeling his heart beating against my cheek.

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