“Are you here for him or for you? It’s better to know that before you go in.”
I frowned, thinking about it. “I’m here for both of us.”
She nodded, and I hoped I’d given her the right answer. She gave a gentle rap on the door before opening it for me.
“Mr. Hunter. You have a visitor.”
I thought I’d prepared myself. I thought I knew what Dylan would look like, but it ended up being so much worse than I ever expected. I actually gasped when I saw him, and I wobbled a bit. Nurse Candy must have realized what was happening. She grabbed a chair and plopped me down in it.
“Are you okay, little girl?”
I nodded, trying to stop my teeth from chattering. I struggled to hold myself together as I reached for Dylan’s frail hand.
He was wasting away. Disappearing right in front of my eyes. His skin looked so thin I saw delicate blue veins just beneath the surface, and he was as pale as the white sheet covering his narrow frame. His cheeks were sunken in, his dark hair dull and lifeless under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room. I reached up to brush a few strands off his forehead with a shaking hand. His eyelids fluttered open, but he didn’t look at me. He stared up at the ceiling.
“Dylan. I’m here. It’s Sam.”
Nurse Candy quietly stepped out the room, but I knew she hovered just outside the door. I understood why. Dylan looked like a hospice patient, like he was dying of some horrible, incurable disease.
Number four means death.
Dylan was my number four, and now he looked like he was dying. As much as everyone told me not to blame myself, I knew the truth. I’d done this to him.
Dylan continued to stare up at the ceiling, so I took his cold hand in mine and just started talking. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. I didn’t know how bad things were getting. I didn’t understand.”
I took a long, shaky breath. “I’ll be leaving for Japan soon, but I wanted you to know I’m not giving up on you, and you can’t give up either. You have to keep fighting.” I leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “You’re going to get better, and when you do, I’ll be here for you. I will help you get through this. I mean it.”
He gave my hand the barest squeeze and I gasped in surprise. Nurse Candy peeked in to find out what had happened.
“He squeezed my hand.”
Nurse Candy gave me a pat on my shoulder, her eyes on Dylan’s immobile and unresponsive form. “It could be. Who knows what’s going on in his head right now? Who knows how much he’s aware of? Some days patients like Mr. Hunter here manage to say a few words. Other days…well…they aren’t as good. But I would say squeezing your hand is a good sign indeed.”
She tucked the sheet around his body. He had on blue cotton pajamas, which made me smile. He hadn’t chosen those pajamas. The Dylan I knew slept in his boxers or nude. Blue cotton pajamas were not an option.
I stood up to kiss his cold forehead. “Come back to me, Dylan. Please. If you do, I promise I’ll come back to you, too.”
I whispered the words, knowing I’d just made a vow. One I couldn’t break. One I’d never forget. Then I walked out the door and down the long, silent hallway alone.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
National award winning author Abigail Drake has spent her life traveling the world, and collecting stories wherever she visited. She majored in Japanese and International Economics in college and worked in import/export and as an ESL teacher before she committed herself full time to writing. Abigail is a trekkie, a book hoarder, the master of the Nespresso machine, a red wine drinker, and the mother of three boys. A puppy named Capone is the most recent addition to her family, and she blogs about him as a way of maintaining what little sanity she has left.
Learn more about Abigail at www.abigaildrake.com and sign up for her newsletter at http://madmimi.com/signups/181796/join.
Saying Goodbye, Part One (Passports and Promises Book 1) Page 17
