I knew she meant it to be a big reveal. Something to shock me and take my mind off of Sean, but honestly, I didn’t care. I should have at least been concerned that her senator father was still so ill—especially if he planned to run for president—but no. I just didn’t care.
“No?” she asked, sounding disappointed in my lack of response. “Most people would think that was at least a little exciting. You must be truly jaded, Libby.” She turned to face forward, but kept a comforting arm around my shoulders and heaved a sigh. “Sorry my life isn’t more salacious.”
Her apology startled a small smile from me, but it didn’t last.
She rubbed my back and I looked over at her as she squinted her eyes at the ceiling and screwed up her mouth. Honestly, watching her try to distract me was more helpful than her secret revelation.
“Oh!” She sat up straight and turned toward me. “I do have a hot bit of hospital gossip. When I was coming inside, I swear I heard someone talking about how they had seen a patient arrive, and they recognized him. Do you want to know who they said it was?”
“Sure,” I squeaked out. “I’d love to be truly shocked.”
She made a production of looking around to be sure that we were alone before leaning in to whisper, “Sean Amity.” She grinned, raising her shoulders and her eyebrows at the same time while letting out a little squeal. “A real, true blue celebrity, right in our very own hospital, and—”
She cut herself off, no doubt noticing the way the blood drained from my face and the tears welled up again.
“Oh, honey, what’s—”
I saw the moment it dawned on her. The way she looked at me, and then looked toward the door down the hall, then back at me. She was putting the puzzle together, and it did not make a happy picture.
“Oh, honey,” she lamented, clearly heartsick on my behalf. She wrapped me in her arms, rocking me back and forth. “Libby, I’m so, so sorry.”
I wasn’t sure what she was sorry about. Was it his illness? Was it my unenviable position?
“Sean Amity? How in the world did you get mixed up with that man?”
I pulled away from her, going on the defensive. “He’s not that man. He’s my friend.”
“No. I’m sorry,” she said as she rubbed my back, trying to soothe me. “That’s not what I meant. I was just surprised.”
“You said it yourself.” I swiped furiously at my tears. “People with personal security are complicated.”
“I know. I guess I just didn’t think your friend would be that complicated.”
“You don’t know him,” I said, my hackles rising.
“You’re right, I don’t. And I won’t say another word.” She did the whole zip-your-lips motion. “I’m just going to be here for you for as long as you need, all right?”
All my defensiveness melted. “Are you sure? Aren’t you busy?”
“No. Right now this is more important. You deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”
Jonas would be here if I’d let him. The thought surprised me so much that my tears suddenly stopped. I had shown up here alone because I had refused his offer of help. I could have told him at the restaurant what was happening, and he would have driven me here. He would have been here for me.
What a relief that would have been. If I had been willing to let him in, how much of my burden would he have carried for me without asking anything in return? As those questions washed over me, I realized something. I didn’t want to be the person who took from Jonas and gave him nothing. But more importantly, I didn’t want to be the person who gave and gave and gave to Sean while he did nothing but take.
Sean needed help. He needed someone to stand by him. I knew that. But maybe it was time for him to rely on someone else, someone who wasn’t me. Because sitting here in this hospital, drained and numb, I knew I had nothing more to give to Sean. I was an empty vessel.
♪♫♪
I sent Naomi away. She confessed that she had left her fiancé at home to come be with me, and I wasn’t about to deprive one more person of happiness because of Sean’s baggage. I assured her that I was leaving soon and that I would call her the next day. With enough encouragement, she agreed and left.
Once she was gone, the minutes that ticked by were interminable—and yet they took no time at all as I sat there, terrified of what I had decided to do. Eventually, the cold numbness eased and my eyes were able to focus on the door across the hall, the one that I would need to walk through in order to say goodbye.
I could have just walked away, refused to see him for even one minute more, but that would have been more than I could take.
So I put my hand on his door, Will giving me a nod from his position to the left of it, and I pushed it open.
This time, I saw more than just the pallor of his skin. This time, I really looked at him. There were no visible injuries. His face wasn’t swollen. There was no bruising or bandages. But there were wires, and tubes, and beeping machines that seemed too loud in that space. They rang in my head, pulsing with my fear.
I pushed past my trepidation and crossed to his side, picking up his hand. My intent was to simply squeeze it and whisper my goodbyes. Instead the tears came again and I wept over that hand for several minutes before pulling myself together. Then I kissed his fingers before reaching for the necklace that hung around my neck.
Sean knew what this necklace was—what it meant to me. So he would know what it meant when he found it later on. I pulled it over my head and coiled the chain and infinity pendant into my palm. Then I looked through his bag until I found his wallet and I put it inside.
I returned to his side once more and ran my fingers through his hair as I bent to whisper in his ear. “I need you to get better. But I need you to do it without me.”
Then I kissed his forehead and left the room.
♪♫♪
I didn’t stick around. I didn’t wait for him to wake up. I didn’t lay into him about how he’d become the total cliché package.
I walked away. I don’t know how I did it, but I walked right out of that hospital.
Driving home, I held back the tears by sheer force of will. I shoved down the mountain of emotions that was building up, determined to keep them at bay until I got in my door. The moment I entered my apartment, panic set in and I doubled over as I tried to suck in air that seemed too thin. I had done what I had to do. I was walking away. From Sean. My best friend. My family. The boy who loved me but couldn’t give me what I needed.
It was necessary. If I was going to survive, I had to stay away, but I couldn’t do it without making sure that he would be taken care of.
So I forced my breathing to slow: minute by agonizing minute, I breathed in and I breathed out and I pushed my hand into my chest to try to calm the racing, frantic gallop of a heart too fragile from being used too much.
And when I could at last stand straight and see clearly, I pulled out my phone and with shaking fingers searched my contacts for Debbie Amity.
I sniffed and wiped at my face as the ringing started. One. Two. Three.
“Libby, sweetie. Is everything okay?”
Of course she would ask that. Just like I knew something was wrong when Randy called me. Sean’s mom would know something was wrong if I called her. The tears came back and I stumbled through the explanation with halting phrases and broken words. “He was on painkillers after his surgery.” I gasped a breath. “And tonight he took too many or took something else with it. I don’t know. I don’t even know if the doctors know.” I hadn’t stayed long enough to ask.