Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Like a friend with benefits?” Sam leaned forward eagerly. “I want one of those.”
“Samantha Jane Lowe. You are not having a fu—friend with benefits. Ever.” He laughed even as he tried to be stern. God, he loved his sister.
“You’ll see. When I get my new heart I’m going to be unstoppable. Maybe even before then. Gonna flirt with all the medical students on my case until one bites.”
Wes’s throat went tight. He wanted that future for her so badly. One with a working heart and a zest for life and all the flirting she could stand. “You’ll get there,” he said thickly. “You’re only eighteen. No med students for you.”
Only eighteen. Too young to die. He tried to banish such dark thoughts, especially once his mom came back into the room. She stood in front of the chair he’d held down for most of the past two days.
“Wes, you are sleeping at home tonight, and that’s an order. You’re leaving in the morning, and I don’t want you to spend another night in the chair here.” She shooed him out of the reclining chair.
“I’ve slept far worse places than the hospital,” he protested, even as he let her tug him up. Didn’t need her straining something.
“I’m staying in your place.” His dad followed his mother into the room, balancing two large coffees and a thick paperback. “Now, what’s this I hear from Sam about you having a boyfriend?”
“Sam,” Wes groaned. “There’s no boyfriend. Or friend. Not really. Just some guys on the team.”
That last part wasn’t a lie—Curly and Bacon and the senior chief had all messaged to check in on him here, and there was a nice potted plant on the table in the corner of the room from the senior chief and his wife and a balloon bouquet from all the guys on the team next to it. He bet Curly’s girlfriend was behind the ordering of the balloons, but it was nice to be included in their friendship circle. His old team back at Little Creek had also sent a bear in a sailor suit and balloons, and surprisingly, seeing all their names didn’t feel quite as raw as it had a month ago.
“Well, why don’t we head back home, and you can message your not-a-boyfriend from your old room, where you will sleep.” His mom led him to the door of the room. “I worry about you, honey. You’ve barely slept since you got here.”
“I just don’t want to miss anything. Want to maximize my time here,” Wes mumbled, not wanting to get into his soul-crushing insomnia with his mom, or the weird emotions that made him want to watch Sam sleep, to reassure himself that she was okay for another few hours. Felt selfish to sleep when his time home was so short.
“Your room misses you too.” His mom herded him toward the parking garage after a few more protests and a quick goodbye to Sam. “We’ll come back in the morning, and y’all can say your goodbyes then.”
Goodbye. Fuck. Wes wasn’t ready for that. Wasn’t ready for it to maybe be the last time he saw Sam.
As if she could read his thoughts, his mom patted his arm. “We have to be positive, right? You’ll be back soon, and we’ll get the call any day now. You saw how good she’s looking. Every doctor who’s been in has commented how much better she’s doing than her tests would suggest.” Stopping by their minivan, she looked expectantly up at Wes.
“She looks great. Can’t believe how spunky she is.” He wished he could promise his mom that this would all work out, that a successful transplant would happen before Sam worsened again. “Wish I could do more for you and Dad though. Y’all must be exhausted.”
“You do plenty.” His mom handed him the keys. She hated to drive, always letting him or his dad do it. Sam had never been healthy enough to get her license, and Wes tried to stay positive, like his mom said, think of a future where Sam could ferry their mom all around the city.
He knew the drive from the hospital back to their neighborhood far too well, even after years of deployments and being up at Little Creek. As he’d expected, his mom fell asleep ten minutes into a TV show they’d both been pretending to watch. He headed up to his old room, digging out his phone as he went up the stairs, a little thrill going up his spine at a new message.
She looks so happy. Glad the tablet was a hit. Have they said anything about letting her come home? The message was from only a few minutes ago, and Dustin’s chat icon was still illuminated.
Wes couldn’t help smiling even as he typed the grim news. No. She’s still recovering from the last surgery, and they say she’s far less stable than she looks. Which sucks.