Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Cachexia.”
“And in English?”
“I’m wasting away, Riggs. My systems are shutting down. My muscles are no longer functioning. In fact, speaking to you right now hurts. Hell, blinking hurts.”
Oh, fuck. I couldn’t take it anymore. The emotional overload Charlie and Duffy had put me through in the last couple of months. I was about to tell him that in my book, he was forgiven, when Duffy rushed through the door.
“Bloody hell, you’d think an established hospital would know how to find a patient in their system if he got switched to another unit . . .” She froze midstride when she realized she’d walked into a tense moment. Her frown melted.
“Shall I come back later?” She jerked a finger behind her shoulder.
“No,” I said, at the same time Charlie said, “Yes.”
Charlie took one look at me, probably realizing I needed her in that moment.
“Just kidding.” He forced out a smile. “Come in, angel.”
Cautiously, she made her way in and took his hands in hers, squeezing them tight. My eyes landed on where their skin touched, and I wondered what it said about me that I was jealous of a dying man because Daphne was touching him.
It says that you’re a fucking coward who doesn’t want to give this thing a chance because you’re afraid of getting hurt, as if you’re not already in shambles.
Unable to deal with my own bullshit and with the tragedy unfolding in the room, I stood up and excused myself. I went outside and postponed my flight to Marrakech. I wasn’t going to board a plane tonight, that was for damn sure.
The next eight hours were passed watching my movies, going through galleries of my photos, eating my favorite food, and drinking my favorite drinks (probably should have thought that one through, since Charlie wasn’t in a condition to swallow anything other than his own saliva). I showed him pictures from my mountain-climbing adventures, and he alternated between crying and laughing. Duffy was crying too. Quietly, sitting in the corner of the room and looking at us in awe. I couldn’t understand how this self-proclaimed gold digger ended up having a heart of gold, but somehow, she did.
Nurses and doctors breezed in and out of the room, checking in on Charlie. They didn’t offer us much information, just sympathetic looks, which was how I knew we were close to the end.
Eight hours after I arrived, Charlie’s pain became unbearable. He stopped talking altogether and only smiled or nodded in response to everything around him.
“All righty, darling. I think it is time to up your morphine levels. Nod to confirm I can jack it up.” Duffy walked over to his IV and picked up a red button that was hooked to it. Charlie gave a faint nod. I watched, fascinated. I’d never seen anyone die. Least of all one of my parents.
She pressed the button, then sat on the edge of his bed, taking his hands in hers. She rubbed a spot with her thumb, smiling calmly. “You’re okay, Charlie.”
He nodded weakly again. My throat tightened, and my eyes burned. Even if he wasn’t okay, he could no longer open his mouth and ask for help.
A lone tear rolled down his cheek. Duffy was kind enough not to acknowledge it.
“Shall I prop you up a bit more?” she cooed sweetly. “Might help with your lungs.”
This time his nod was barely visible. She pushed a button on the side of his bed and helped him into a full sitting position. His head lolled sideways.
No functioning muscles. Duffy grabbed one of the many flat pillows lying around and secured it around his neck to keep him steady.
And that was it. I knew Charlie would die in the next hour. That there were a lot of things to say, and that none of them would be said. He was taking the answers to all my questions to his grave. If I’d been more forgiving, more open, I could’ve known more. As it was, my origin would always be largely a mystery to me.
Sensing the same thing I did—that Charlie was in the process of passing away—Duffy stood up. She leaned down to kiss his cheek.
“Goodbye, sweet friend. Thank you for being my family away from home. Thank you for giving me the most precious thing one could give—time. And thank you for the man you became. I know you have your regrets, but I can assure you, Charlie—you’re up there with Tim. A man worthy of restoring a little girl’s faith.”
She rubbed at his cheek, smiled, kissed his head, and withdrew. A moment later, her hand found my shoulder.
“I’m going to get some coffee for us. Would you like anything to eat?”
I shook my head absently, still amazed that Charlie’s looming death was hitting me this hard, along with the realization that Daphne was the loveliest person one could perish in front of. Caring, loving, sweet, and warm. She was everything I’d wished my mother was.