“I’m so horrible, I may never die,” I admit to her, having no doubt that Lowell will probably live to be over a hundred, too.
“I seriously doubt that you’re horrible,” she replies. “If you were, there wouldn’t be a handsome man waiting outside that door, worried to death about you.”
Cedric
“So? How is she?” I ask Isobel as soon as she comes out of my apartment.
“Her vitals are good. It’s just going to be a long, tough road to recovery for her,” she says. “Abusing any sort of drug for that long of a period of time, well, who knows what kind of damage it’s done to her brain and her body. Who was the other man she mentioned? Her husband?”
“She told you about Lowell?” I say in shock. “That guy is a real bastard. He was the one who supplied her with the drugs.”
“Then she’s probably going to need to see a therapist to get through her emotional baggage and depression too. It sounds like she’s been through a lot with him and her mom, who is sick.”
“Yeah, she has, but Ev is tough. She’ll pull through,” I say. “She has to,” I add, my voice cracking.
“Evelyn is lucky to have you, Cedric,” Isobel says when she gives me a hug. “Not many men would stick around through this, the bad times.”
“I love her. Always have,” I say simply. “I would do anything for her. It’s my fault she’s having to deal with all of this. I should’ve saved her from that bastard sooner.”
“You can’t blame yourself. That doesn’t do you or her any good. All you can do now is focus on the future you get to have together, hopefully a long and happy one.”
“Yeah, hopefully,” I agree, although deep down there’s a part of me that still has doubts.
Chapter Twenty-One
Evelyn
“I’m a mess,” I tell Cedric when he comes into the room and stares at me silently after Isobel leaves. “More than you bargained for, right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“If you had known how fucked up I am, you wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to come back for me.”
“Is that what you think?” he asks when he comes over and kneels beside the bed.
“Yes.”
“There is nothing that would’ve stopped me from coming back. I love you. That’s not going to change, okay? We’ll get through this too, I promise,” he says. “Remember how you wanted all your seashells to be perfect and white? Well, in life, there’s no such thing as being perfect. It’s okay if you’re a little damaged. We all are, baby.”
“I just, I feel so guilty for doing this to you, for putting you through all of this!” I tell him as tears begin to stream down my face. “Goddammit, now I’m a crying mess again,” I manage to choke out. “I feel like I’m completely out of control, of my body, my emotions…you’re the only solid thing I have to hold on to!” I break down completely as Cedric takes me into his arms.
“I got you Ev. Go on, let it out,” Cedric says as he rocks me gently.
“It was different with Lowell,” I admit as I cling to Cedric. “I never felt guilty, because I was using him just as much as he was using me. We were parasites, feeding off of each other…”
“That’s not true, Ev. Don’t think like that,” Cedric insists. “Look, I understand what started you down the path with Lowell. He had a lot to offer you, and I’m sure he didn’t seem so bad, to you at least.”
“I should have known after the night we were together, and how he reacted when he found us. I should never have gone with him. But with everything my mom was facing, I just didn’t see any other way. Being with him, especially after that night with you, was awful, but seeing my mom get the treatment she needed, and then being able to get through the days with the pills…I never felt this guilty. Do you understand? I never felt like I was hurting anyone, the way I feel like I’m hurting you…”
“You’re not hurting me, Ev,” Cedric sighs as he rests his head on top of mine. “I mean, obviously it’s painful to see you going through this. It breaks my fucking heart. But, baby, I understand. You aren’t doing anything to me. You’re recovering from an awful experience that would have messed up anyone. Once we get through this together, we’ll have our entire lives in front of us.”
“Thank you,” I mumble. “For being here, for caring…for everything. I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve the best life can give you, and I’m going to help you get it,” Cedric says as he hugs me closer. “Don’t think for a moment that I’m some altruistic savior swooping in and expecting nothing in return. I did all this for me, as much as for you, Ev. I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you when we were kids. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to make you mine.”
For some reason, that thought makes me feel better than anything else we’ve talked about so far. Knowing that I’m not letting him down, that he is all in, even through what has to be the worst part of my life. Hearing him admit that he didn’t do it just for some romanticized idea of the girl he used to know, but because he still wants me, even as I am, helps me get through the next few days of my withdrawal.
Cedric
If I thought things were bad before with Evelyn fighting her addiction, it was nothing compared to what fate had in store for us.
Rita had an appointment with her new nephrologist two days after Isobel came to check in on Evelyn. During the visit, the doctor said he was concerned about her fluid retention, rapid heartbeat and dizziness. In fact, he was so concerned that he admitted her to the hospital to run more tests.
Unfortunately, the diagnosis was grave. Rita had cardiomyopathy and was spiraling toward heart failure at an alarming rate. The one good thing to come out of her worsening condition was that she was moved up the transplant list.
The only problem? The doctor wasn’t sure if Rita would make it unless a donor kidney came soon, like within a few weeks.
“What are the chances of a kidney actually coming through?” I ask the doctor as I catch up to him in the hospital corridor. He had just left Rita’s room after his afternoon rounds, and Evelyn was still sitting with her. “Not knowing is driving us crazy.”
“I wish I had better news on that front, I really do,” the doctor replies. “At any given time, there are around one hundred thousand patients awaiting kidney transplants. We always encourage our patients to make sure they have their affairs in order. There are just never enough donors to help everyone.”
“How many do actually get transplants, doc? Be level with me here,” I insist.
With a heavy sigh, the doctor looks me straight in the eyes. “About twenty people die each day waiting for a transplant. If we’re lucky, across the entire country, we might do thirty to forty thousand transplants in a really good year. With the number of patients we have waiting, well…you can figure up the odds yourself. In Rita’s case, with her age and comorbidities, and especially since her blood type is O, I’m afraid a direct donation transplant would be her best hope.”