Change of Heart (22 page)

“Isn’t there a list or something?” I mumble, thinking back to all the TV shows and movies I’ve ever seen with transplants. She made me watch so much
Grey’s Anatomy
, I should know this! “Is she on the list?”

Mrs. Evans’s shoulders sink further, if that’s even possible. “She doesn’t want the transplant. She could have been put on the list two years ago, but she said no.”

She said no?

“What?”

“She’s afraid, Decker. She’s scared of dying.”

“But a new heart would help her?” I say more as a question than as a statement. I’m so confused. “If she’s afraid of dying, why wouldn’t she get the transplant?”

“A transplant can help her. The downside to transplants is that her body could reject the heart. And of course there are the usual risks, as with any surgery.”

I don’t want to hear that.

“So she could die either way,” I say, resigned. I could lose Casey either way.

Her mom frowns but nods.

That’s the ugliest truth I’ve ever been exposed to. Casey could die whether she gets the transplant or not. There may be no saving the girl I’ve loved almost my entire life.

Just when I got her back…

“I’ll talk to her,” I tell Mrs. Evans. “But visiting hours are about done for the night.”

Mrs. Evans’s eyes brighten up, and she finally releases my forearms. I swear I’m going to have nail marks in my arms. She slides her hands down to mine and gently squeezes them. “You’re family, Decker. Visiting hours don’t apply to family.”

“Is that hospital policy?” I ask with a small smile. It’s about all I can manage, and even it feels forced.

“Policy shmolicy,” Mrs. Evans says as she releases my hands and starts to push herself up off the floor. I rise to my feet first and pull her up. She looks up at me once we’re standing. “Thank you, Decker. I’m…I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about her condition. I’m sorry we kept it from you. I always thought you deserved to know everything, but Casey was adamant and we, her father and I, were too afraid to upset her.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her, even though it’s not. It’s not okay I didn’t know my best friend had been given a death sentence.

I’m hurt the Evans hadn’t told me, but I can sort of understand where they were coming from. Casey had to be their number one priority, and they hadn’t wanted to upset her. I’m hurt my parents most likely knew and didn’t tell me either. I’m their son. If they knew, they should have told me so I could have been there for Casey.

But most of all…I’m hurt Casey hadn’t told me. Regardless of our falling out—whatever it was—this is so much bigger than that. So much bigger than that. She should have told me.

“I’ll talk to her,” I promise.

Mrs. Evans wraps her arms around me in one of those amazing mom hugs that almost make everything better again.
Almost.
“Thank you, Decker.” She takes a step back. “I’m going to head down to the cafeteria to get something to eat. I’ll bring you back a snack.”

I start to tell her she doesn’t have to, but she gives me a mom look and the argument dies in my throat. “Thanks, that’ll be great.”

“Go on in, she just woke up a little while ago. She probably won’t be falling back asleep any time soon. She’s been out most of the day.” She nudges me towards the door once she realizes I’m not moving.

Bracing myself for what may be the scariest moment of my life, I reach for the handle on the door and push.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Casey

The fancy remote that controls the reclining feature of the hospital bed is something I am all too familiar with. I use it to raise myself to a seated position and make note of the time on the wall clock. It’s almost nine. Visiting hours are almost over, I know them by heart by now. By heart—ha-ha—no pun intended.

I’m a little disappointed Decker didn’t come by today. I know, what right do I have to even think that after the way I treated him today? I can’t believe I threw him out of the apartment. Especially after the amazing time we’d spent together last night. Things had changed between us—again—last night. We had the chance to do it right this time.

But I’d gone and screwed it all up.

I’d been mentally raw. Being with him like that again…it brought back all those feelings I’d tried to bury deep within my heart. They’d been right there on the surface, exposed, and when everything had erupted—when I’d erupted—it was a vivid explosion of emotion.

It was a mess.
I
was a mess. Hell, I’m still a mess.

And poor Decker. He’d had to bear the brunt of it.

What else was new, right?

I shouldn’t have freaked out on him the way that I did. I know that now. I panicked. I just didn’t want him to ever find out about my broken heart…my ill fate. I’d wanted him to continue to live his life pure and happy…to forget me. I still want that for him.

But after last night…it’s clear that would never happen. At least it had been clear.

I think I really messed things up this time. Maybe it was for the best.

I hear the door open and call out to my mom. “You’re back quick. Kitchen closed?”

There’s a light blue curtain hanging beside my bed, blocking my view of the door, so I can’t see what she’s doing. I hear the shuffle of feet, so I know someone has entered the room.

“Mom?”

I hear a familiar sigh—one that makes my heart race. I know this because the beeps on the heart monitor have increased their pace. Which means he knows it, too.
How embarrassing
. Decker steps around the curtain, and when our eyes meet, my heart skips a beat. Yep, monitor gave that one away, too.
Traitor
.

The confusion, hurt, and utter sadness on his face cause me to drop my gaze.

This is what I hadn’t wanted—to cause him pain.

I feel the burn of unwanted tears behind my eyes and use what little willpower I have left to keep them at bay, distracting myself by picking at a loose thread on the sterile white blanket.

“Hey,” he says solemnly.

I startle as I feel the bed dip; I hadn’t realized he’d gotten so close.

“Hey,” I don’t look up. I just can’t.

There are several minutes of near silence. The only sounds are those coming from the assortment of machines surrounding the bed.

“So…what do we have to do to bust you out of here?” Decker asks. My eyes shoot up to his, trying to gage the seriousness of his question. The slight smile on his sad face tells me everything I need to know—everything that’s important.

He forgives me.

This beautiful man—who I’ve emotionally beaten down, repeatedly—forgives me. What did I ever do to deserve him in my life?

I offer him a small smile in return and promptly burst into tears. Somehow, he manages to lie down beside me on the narrow bed and pulls me into his muscular chest, rubbing my back in soothing circles.

“I’m so sorry, Decker. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I keep hurting you.” I don’t know if he can hear me through my sobs, but I know he knows.

After an exceptionally long-awaited cry on my best friend’s shoulder, I settle down, readying myself for the barrage of questions I know he’s going to have. And he deserves answers, lord does he deserve answers.

I take a deep breath and ask the one thing that’s on the tip of my tongue. I know the answer, but I need to hear him say it. Even though I may not deserve his response.

“Do you hate me?”

He pulls away from me, and I frown at the loss of contact. Using his thumb and forefinger, he lifts my chin so I’m looking in his eyes. “I could
never
hate you, Casey. Never. I may be angry with you, but my love for you will always be more than that. Always.”

Two big tears escape my eyes, and Decker cradles my face in his hands, using his thumbs to dry my cheeks.

“Think we can stop making mistakes now?”

I nod in response and sniffle, tucking myself back into his chest.

“You know you’re going to need to talk to me, right?” He runs his fingers through my hair, occasionally getting stuck in a hospital-induced knot. I swear they’re a thing.

I nod again.

“And you’re going to need to use your words?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“In a voice something other than a dog can hear?”

“But you heard me, does that make you a dog?”

He laughs. “Yeah, I guess it does. As long as you’ll always be my bitch.”

I pull back, a look of shock on my face as I swat his arm. “I can’t believe you called me a bitch!”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “All things considered, Case?”

“You have a point,” I concede, resting my head back down. He smells so good. So Decker-ish. I wish I could bottle his scent and keep it forever. The thought of forever brings me back to reality, and I nestle in closer.

“Tell me everything,” he says quietly. And I can hear it in his voice—he’s begging me to let him in. Once and for all.

And I will.

It’s time. It’s long past time.

“How much do you already know?” I ask, certain he’s already spoken with Kate and my mother but uncertain as to what they’d told him. I mean he’s here, so someone had to tell him what was up. I’m in the cardiac wing, for crying out loud. It’s not like he thinks I’m here for a sore throat or sprained ankle.

“It doesn’t matter. I want to hear it from you.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Decker

It’s crazy how machines can so effectively measure your life. Take the heart monitor Casey’s connected to for instance. When I’d arrived earlier, it sped up when Casey became aware of who was here. I made her heart race. Now, it’s picking up speed again, and I know it’s because she’s nervous. I can feel the tension in her body. I rub her back, trying to ease some of the tautness.

“Why don’t you just start at the beginning?” I offer.

I can feel her chest expand as she takes a deep breath in, and her warm breath hits my chest on its way out. She repeats those movements one more time before she starts speaking.

“My freshman year, just before Thanksgiving, I went into cardiac arrest.” My breath catches, and she pauses for a moment; I give her a squeeze to continue. “Fortunately Kate was with me in our dorm and did CPR until the ambulance got there, which luckily didn’t take long either. My memories of that day are a little fuzzy. I remember not feeling well before, but I chalked it up to being stressed out. College is a lot different from high school, ya know?” I nod in response, though I know it was a rhetorical question.

“Anyway, I’d been feeling tired, a little lightheaded, nauseated, and just overall fatigued. But I was studying real hard and taking a bunch of classes, so I didn’t think anything of it. I never had chest pains or anything like that. When it happened, it was sudden; I don’t remember anything other than studying with Kate and then waking up in the hospital. They told me my heart actually stopped.”

She whispers that last part, and I stop my ministrations and pull her closer to me.
Her heart stopped.
If she’d been alone, she’d have been gone. My Casey would have been gone forever and my last moments with her would have been selfish, drunken ones. I can’t even imagine what getting that phone call would have been like. I’m so thankful I don’t have to.

Holy
shit
.

“I know, right?”

I must have said that last part out loud.

“I can’t even imagine what that must have been like,” I say honestly. My shoulder injury and all the end-of-the-world drama I’d created for myself when I’d learned I couldn’t play baseball anymore was
nothing
compared to what Casey went through. My shoulder stopped working…well, her heart stopped working. Really puts things into perspective.

“It was horrifying. I was so scared when I woke up and didn’t know where I was. My mom and dad hadn’t arrived yet, and they wouldn’t let Kate back to see me because she wasn’t family. All I had was a nurse with a horrible bedside manner who kept saying ‘the doctor will be in to see you shortly’ every time I asked a question.”

“I wish I could have been there for you.” I place a kiss on the top of her head. Her hair smells sterile, hospital-like. I don’t like it.

“I wished for you a lot of times,” she murmurs into my chest. “But I just couldn’t bear to bring you into the clusterfuck that had become my life. I couldn’t suck you into it, because I knew you’d never get out. One of us had to survive, you know? Has to survive…”

I push back from her and lift her chin so she’s looking at me. “Let’s get one thing straight, okay?” I wait for her to nod and when she does I continue. “There’s nothing we can do to change the past, we’ll never forget it but we can’t dwell on it. So we’re moving forward now, and you’re going to deal with the fact that I’m here. I’m in your life once and for all. And you’re going to stop trying to push me out of it. Got it?”

Casey blinks back a few tears and nods. “I got it.”

“Good.” I lean in and kiss her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. She’s a little salty from her tears, mixed with a little sweet that’s all her.

She smiles slightly against my lips, but pulls away. “There’s more, Decker. Lots more.”

“Tell me.”

“This is really hard,” she sniffles and burrows deeper.

“I know, baby. But I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s obviously difficult for her to talk about, for good reason, and I almost feel like an asshole for pushing her, but she can’t keep it from me any longer. If we’re going to move forward—together—then everything needs to be out on the table. I need to know it all. Deep down, I know she knows that, although I’m not so sure about the moving forward part since, according to her mom, she doesn’t want the transplant that will save her life. The thought pains me.