“Oh!” The nurse’s features softened, and she patted my arm. “Alex told me he wanted to see you.” She turned to Liam. “You were his second choice, but he really wanted Madison.”
“Don't we all,” replied Liam grimly.
The nurse shot him a perplexed look, but quickly turned back to me.
“Where is he?”
She took my hand and I felt a cold shiver pass through me. She pulled me over to the nursing station and sat me down in a chair.
“He's septic. He was just in here last week with pneumonia.”
I nodded. “Yes, I saw him.”
“So you saw how thin and pale he was then?”
Yes, I had. But he was a little kid with leukemia. Of course he was pale and thin. “But he was on antibiotics. He was fighting it really well.”
“He's still fighting,” she said, and relief flooded my body. “But he might not win this one.”
I wanted to slap her. Who was she to be so negative?
“Where is he?” I stood up and began looking at the charts along the desk, checking for his name.
“He's in Peds ICU. The infection’s in his blood now. The antibiotics can only really work if his immune system is helping, and his can't. There's nothing left.”
“Don't say that.” I sounded like a child, but the nurse was kind.
“His system is shutting down. Nothing's for certain, but his kidneys are failing.”
“Is he unconscious?” Liam asked.
“In and out.”
I pictured this delirious, terrified child. My body started to shake. In an attempt to disguise my nerves and weakness I stood and started walking toward the main hospital. “I'm going up,” I told them.
“Wait for me,” said Liam.
We rode the elevator in silence. I was afraid I would start crying. It would be hugely unprofessional. I was supposed to be able to put on a strong 'doctorly' face, right? How long until I actually got the hang of it?
I was more worried about frightening Alex. He would see my face and know exactly how bad things were. That’s another perk of being a hospital kid. They’re even better than their parents at figuring out what’s going on.
We made it into PICU and quickly moved toward Alex’s bed. His parents were with him. They stood as we approached, and Mrs. Mathis reached out to embrace me. “Thank you so much for coming. He's just crazy about both of you.” I held her tightly. At that moment, professionalism could go screw itself. Mr. Mathis stood and took her back into his arms.
I went to stand beside Alex's bed. He looked smaller than ever. I stroked what was left of his shiny golden hair. The chemo had stolen it from him, but his face was still covered in those happy freckles.
“We think he'll make it,” Mr. Mathis said. Mrs. Mathis nodded eagerly. “He's a fighter. He's been fighting most of his life, and he'll make it through this, too.” They looked so certain; their optimism was contagious. I started to believe it, too.
“Do you mind if I stay a bit?” I asked them. I looked down at my clothing. “I'm so sorry I look like this. I would never normally come to see him looking this way . . .”
“Don't even think about it. You came running in on your day off. We love you for it.” Mrs. Mathis looked at Liam, too. “Both of you.” She smiled, remembering something. “Alex wants you to get married. Did you know that?”
Liam said, “Yes” at the exact moment I said “No.”
I wanted to change the subject. “I'll talk to Alex about that when he wakes up.” I didn't know if he was sleeping or unconscious and I couldn't ask at that point. I didn’t want to make his parents even more upset.
Liam sat in an extra chair. He was comfortable with these people. He cared about Alex, too. “Why don't you two go have a bite to eat?” They shook their heads, no, but without much conviction. They had probably been up since midnight.
“I don't think I could eat, but I could use a glass of water. And a bathroom break.” Mr. Mathis stood. “Come on, honey. He's in good hands.” He looked at us both and smiled sadly. “Just page us if you need us.”
They walked slowly into the hallway, holding each other up. They were wonderful people, a wonderful loving couple. We both watched them, but didn't say anything to each other.
I pulled a chair closer to the bed so I could hold Alex's hand. “Is he in a coma?” I asked Liam.
“I think so. I haven't seen his chart. But this doesn't look like sleep to me.”
I put Alex's hand to my cheek. “But his parents are right. Kids get sick so fast, but sometimes they get well so fast, too. He's a tough little guy.”
I smiled and started to relax a bit.
Suddenly, though, a shrill and prolonged beep came from the machine above Alex's head.
“Oh, he's coding.” Liam leapt to his feet and ran to the nursing station. They were already on the phone calling a Code Blue. Liam grabbed the crash cart and pushed it into the room.
“Madison, you have to move.”
I got out of the way. “Let me help. Please!”
But I was just in the way. Two more residents appeared in an instant, and then the respiratory techs. There were more than enough bodies. Liam turned to me, “Go find his parents.”
It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do in that minute, but my legs carried me along. I didn't get far. Mr. and Mrs. Mathis were already racing back to the unit. They had heard the alarm and feared the worst.
When they saw me running, they knew it was Alex. Fear clutched at them. They ran right past me, and tried to get in his room.
Liam tried to intercept them, but they pushed past him. On the bed, the medical staff were performing CPR in between shocks. It was a sight no parent should ever witness. I grabbed them both and pulled them to me. “Don't watch. They're doing everything. Alex knows you're here, I promise.”
We stood together outside of the room, getting the occasional glimpse of Alex through the glass partition. Liam stood to one side, letting the cardiology residents and the respiratory people do their jobs. We both wanted to jump in and help, but we knew it was better for us to just stay out of the way.
Liam looked stoic, but shaken. He turned away. I met his eyes with mine and we just looked at one another as the chaos boiled around us.
Then we all heard it: one short beep, and then another. His heart was working again, the rhythm quickly stabilizing. It was weak but steady. Alex’ parents rushed to his side. We all watched for twenty minutes, making sure he was really back with us.
The hospital staff packed up the equipment and supplies, smiling and chatting. They picked up the discarded wrapping from the tubes and IV's.
It was a huge reprieve. He hadn't died. Liam came up behind me. “You need to sit down.” I tried to argue, but felt my knees give out. It had been a tough few days. I hadn't eaten much. How did this man know my body better than it knew itself? “I want to get you home.”
“It's okay.” It wasn't fair to take advantage of his kind nature.
“You can get rid of me tomorrow. Tonight, I'm taking care of you.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
I don't remember the walk home. I kept seeing Alex's little body being jolted, and his parents sobbing. Images of Isabel in Owen's bed kept popping up, too, and I could hardly believe it had been less than seventy-two hours since it happened. Liam had come back, and now I was losing him again. It was so much to deal with.
Liam and I held hands. It was all the communication we needed. The morning would separate us, but for now we had company and comfort and we both knew to take whatever was offered. Life was short. Caring people, rare.
Once we were at my apartment, Liam turned to me. “I don't know if I should stay. I want to make sure you're okay, but I know you probably want me to go.”
I couldn't bear to watch him walk away. Not yet. “Don't leave.” I pulled him toward the door that I held open.
When we got to my apartment, we were moving like ghosts. There was no way to assimilate it all. I o
ffered to make tea, and Liam accepted. We stood together in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil. We got mugs and tea bags. When the water was ready, we poured it.
By this point, an ominous shaking had started deep inside me. I felt like there was an earthquake starting in the middle of my abdomen. I felt the blood draining out of my face and my hands trembling. I tried to say something to Liam, but my jaw was shaking and my throat was so tight I couldn't form any words.
I tried to lift my cup but my hand shook so badly, I spilled the boiling tea all over it. Liam grabbed my hand and pushed it under cold water from the tap. He looked closely at me then.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so pale. I think you're in shock. You have to lie down.” He scooped me up and carried me into my bedroom. He sat me on the bed, plumping pillows up behind me. “You need sugar.” He ran back to the kitchen to get juice and cookies and brought them back.
“I can't,” I choked out.
“Drink.” He put the cup to my lips. He left the room and came back with bandages and antibiotic ointment. He smoothed it onto my burned hand with exquisite tenderness, and then wrapped the gauze around it, tucking in the last little bit. “I don't have tape with me,” he explained.
His kindness was the last straw, and tears streamed down my face. I wiped them away frantically, afraid that I would start sobbing in that scary, can't catch my breath way I do when I am virtually hysterical.
Liam held my hands off my face and waited until I looked into his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed each cheek. Then he pulled back slightly. He moved forward again and touched my lips gently with his. I couldn't respond, but I didn't move away.
He leaned forward and kissed me again. I started to shake. I was so cold. I have never been so cold. My teeth were chattering and my body shook.
Liam grabbed extra blankets from the cupboard and wrapped them around me, but nothing helped.
He climbed into the bed and held me until I stopped shivering. He stroked my hair and kissed my cheek, my ear, and my neck. I felt full of sadness and despair, and I needed his warmth and his light.
“I need to feel your skin,” I said. He sat up and took off everything but his underwear. Then he sat me up and undressed me, too.
We lay down. Our bodies felt awkward at first, but they soon wrapped around each other perfectly. He smelled like life and goodness. I needed to breathe him in.
Every inch of my skin ached to touch him. I ran my hands along his back. I pressed my cheek against his and breathed in the smell of him. I buried my face in his beautiful hair. I wanted to be connected to him. I wanted to melt into him, to merge with his goodness.
He kissed me again, and my lips kissed back. We stayed wrapped around each other, kissing and caressing. It felt like hours passed. It was a gentle, slow-burning passion. There was less urgency, because our bodies knew it would work, and knew it would be perfect.
He rolled me onto my stomach and began kissing my neck and back. He ran his hands, light as feathers across my skin until I shivered with pleasure and comfort.
He rolled me onto my back and kissed my face again and again. He moved to lie between my legs. I stared up into his eyes and saw such kindness.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
“Yes.” I needed him more at that moment than I ever had. It wasn't a sexual need. It was a need to reassert life, to push back misery even just for a minute, to forget our troubled complex lives and embrace this simple moment, this simple bliss.
I moved to push my panties down. He looked at me with such intensity. I pushed his underwear down, too. I need to wrap myself around him. I needed to be connected to something meaningful and good. I didn't want us to be separate people. Alone we were so small and frail. I wanted him to be a part of me.
He entered me slowly and paused to kiss me more. We stayed that way for a long time. I wrapped my legs around his waist to draw him deeper into me. The pleasures were soft and sweet.
We started moving together as though we were floating on waves. It was effortless and perfect. It was joyful and healing.
We kept it very slow. We were in no hurry. We wanted it to last. Either it was a new beginning or a last goodbye. Neither of us knew yet, but either way it was important.
Slowly, our bodies began to move with greater urgency. The rhythm remained smooth, but the waves we were riding grew larger. Soon we were gripped by that innate rhythm that presses bodies together perfectly. We collided with greater force, but stayed wrapped together, kissing passionately.
Only in the last moments did our mouths separate, each to cry out in release and joy. The joy of coming back to life.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Just before dawn, I heard Liam getting out of bed. I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed the warm bed and the peace inside of me. I felt safe and cared for. We had definitely gone beyond just lust.
How could I have ever felt that the sex with Liam was just sex? It had always been something special, even when we were trying so hard to convince ourselves it wasn't.
The night before was on a different level. It wasn't the sheet clenching, shoulder biting pheromone-fest we had created together before; it was soft and slow and sweet. It felt like our bodies were talking to each other. They had known all along that they belonged together, and they had finally convinced our hearts to join in as well.
I heard Liam rustling around and figured he was scavenging for food. The man was always hungry, and we’d had almost nothing to eat yesterday. I heard him come back into my room and sit in my comfortable armchair.
I heard pages turning and a pencil scribbling. I figured he was preparing for his day. This was the day he was supposed to tell his advisor if he was going to New York. If I told him I wanted him to stay, would he really do it? My heart lurched at the thought of opening up to him again only for him to change his mind and crush me. What if it was just the thrill of the chase for him? Lots of my friends have had guys desperate for them until they agreed to go out with them. Then the interest suddenly waned, and just as the girl was really falling for the guy, he ditched her; then she spent more time healing a broken heart than they had spent together as a couple.
But was that Liam? How could I ever know? I thought back to the wondrous physical moments we had shared before he started ignoring me. It had never been just about the fun and the passion. Chloe had been right about that. But she had been wrong about the true feelings. They had been there, all right, in every sweet kiss, in every nibbled lip and caressed breast. Each gasp and moan had been for pleasure, but also for joy, the joy of finding someone wildly exciting as well as grown-up and kind. It was a sort of miracle to find a person like that at all. And to find a person who felt the same way I did? That was like winning the lottery.
But what if he hurt me again? What if? I thought of all the moments since he had deserted me. I thought of how hard I had worked at the hospital, about the terrible times with Owen. I thought about helping Isabel, and getting a great review from Olsen the Ogre. I realized that Liam had hurt me, and it had taken me down for a few days. But I had survived. I was stronger than I knew. If he hurt me again, I would live.
I was crazy about him. I wanted to try to build something with him. Maybe he was going to be The One. I hoped so, but if he wasn't, I would be all right. For the first time, I realized that our experiment had worked. I had been brought back to life: not just my body, but also my heart, my courage, my passion for life. All of it.
I was never going to let anyone take that away from me again, even Liam. And because I now knew that, I could let him in. The risks suddenly seemed so small, the potential so huge.
Of course I would ask him to stay.
I pushed the blanket off me, trying to will myself to get up, but I was so comfortable, so relaxed. I drifted back into my happy almost asleep state. I started hearing a funny swoosh-click sound. I thought I had imagined it, or was halfway into a dream. But it came again and again. And then I suddenly realized what it was.
I sat up, my eyes wide open, and saw Liam standing over me with his phone in his hands. He was taking pictures.
“What are you doing?” I screamed. I went from happily half-asleep to half-insane in a split second. There was nothing rational about me at that point. Some internal sense of terror and survival rushed back, taking over all my senses, my body and my mind.
I was back in that disgusting bathroom, covered in beer and piss. Filthy words were written on me and people laughed. The cameras clicked and clicked, but I couldn't get up. Someone stuck his finger in me, and they all laughed again and took more pictures.
Later, when I had been to the emergency, and gone through the brutal exam needed to collect samples for a rape kit, after I had showered a hundred times in almost boiling water, after the cruel words written in permanent marker had finally started to fade, after all that, the pictures started showing up online.
And then it just got worse and worse.
I couldn't seem to snap back into the present. My body and mind were in both places at once. I grabbed my robe and struggled to put it on. I felt like I was being attacked. Liam was talking, and moving toward me, but I slapped the phone out of his hand and pushed him backwards, hard.
I ran to pick the phone up off the floor and started scrolling. I saw picture after picture of me lying on the bed, naked.
“What is this? How could you do this?”
Liam tried to interrupt, but the words just flew from me. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you all such fucking pigs?” I erased picture after picture and started sobbing. “How could I fall for this? How could I have believed this would be different?”
Liam moved to hold my arm, but I struck out, batting him away. I curled into myself, the sobs rattling me. “I'm such an idiot.”
Liam crept closer. “Maddie, it's not what you think.” I didn't even respond. What was there to say? How could he explain away taking naked pictures while I slept?
“I'm so, so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Here, I need to show you something.” He stood up and brought a sketchpad over to me. I wouldn't look at it. He laid it on the ground beside me.
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