“Not sure yet. They’ll probably want to keep him around a few more days for observation, just to be sure he keeps improving. The trip out here wasn’t easy on him, so he’s got to be a little stronger first.”
“That’s understandable. And how are you holding up?”
That’s out of character for Ralph. I can count on two hands the number of times he’s asked me a question like that in the ten years we’ve known each other. Not that he doesn’t care—it’s that he doesn’t know how to show it.
“I’m fine.”
“Fine? Bull. Keep up the pace you’re setting, and you’ll be the one in hospital.”
“This is not about me, Ralph.”
“The doctors know what they’re doing, Ty. Take a little time to yourself, get some rest.”
“You don’t know that I’m not getting any rest,” I argue.
He chuckles. “You act like we’ve never met, like I haven’t known you for ten years.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that when you make up your mind to do something, you go all-in without taking anything else into consideration. That sort of focus is good when it comes to business, and it’s why you’re as good as you are at what you do, but you can’t forget about yourself right now. Your burning the candles on both ends. Your life can’t stop indefinitely.”
“It won’t be much longer. Only a few days, and we’ll fly back.”
“All right,” he says, sounding unhappy. That’s not something I can concern myself with right now. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve made him unhappy with me. His disapproval is something I’ve learned to take in my stride.
Liam is sitting up in bed when I get back to his room, which is more like a hotel suite. Every aspect of our time at the clinic has been beyond my wildest hopes. He’s put on weight. His color is better. He even has the energy to move around using a walker, though he doesn’t move very far. Still, it’s progress. I only wish Vanessa could’ve come with us, but she couldn’t spend much more time away from work. She’ll be that much more surprised when we get home.
“How’s Ralph?” he asks with a smile.
“The same as always and dead chuffed to hear you’re doing so well.”
“For once, I can say you were right about something,” he admits with a wry grin.
“For once?” I raise an eyebrow, and we both laugh.
Then he looks troubled when the laughter fades. “I can’t let you pay for all this without accepting something in return.” He motions around us—the spacious suite with its view of a crystal-clear lake. “This is like a spa. And the treatments? All that cutting edge gene therapy and all these drugs they’re pumping into me? I can’t begin to imagine how much this is putting you out.”
He’s right about it being expensive. It’s jaw-droppingly, obscenely expensive, but I would do it all again in a heartbeat to know my friend is improving. I smile at him. “I’ve never found anything more worth spending my money on than getting you well enough to break my balls and be a general pain in my ass. Sadly, I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather spend my money on.”
He opens his mouth and I raise my hand warningly. “End of discussion.”
Three days later and we’re back in Ireland. The reunion between him and Vanessa leaves me feeling a little misty-eyed. I’ve set him up with an in-house nurse so he can receive round-the-clock assistance, though at the rate he’s improving I doubt he’ll need it for very long.
When I think back only a few weeks ago and remember how close to death he was, it’s enough to make me believe in miracles. There are no guarantees as to how long he has—but none of us have a guarantee, do we?
I almost believe I’ll be able to find Izzy again, too. If Liam can have a turn around like this, anything’s possible. Once I’m back in England in a few days, I’ll start the process of finding her. There’s got to be a way, even if I have to take out full-page spreads in every London paper until she notices. A good private investigator should do the trick, though.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, brother,” I tell him once he’s settled in. Vanessa has hugged me at least ten times since we arrived, and she hugs me once more before I go.
“None of this would’ve been possible without you,” she weeps against my shoulder.
“I’m just glad you called.”
I fly back to England. I get out from the shower and go to sleep. My phone jerks me out of a deep, dreamless sleep. It’s Vanessa. I experience déjà vu for the first time in my life.
“Hurry. They’ve taken him to hospital,” she gasps into the phone. I sit bolt upright in the pitch darkness, dazed and still half-asleep.
“What? Why?” I scramble out of bed and pull my clothes together.
“I don’t know! He wanted a nap. When the nurse tried to wake him for his meds, he wouldn’t wake up!”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” It can’t be true. It can’t be. He was doing well. He had a second chance. There has to be some explanation, something stupid none of us thought of. A reaction to something. The doctors will be able to reverse it. They have to.
They don’t. He never wakes up again.
Chapter Seventeen
Izzy
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s43sptuwkvA
Never Give Up
Charlotte’s honeymoon is over. I’ve been expecting her phone call, but when my phone rings, I jump. The sun is low in the sky and I’m surrounded by balled-up tissue.
“Jesus, Izzy, Lina just told me what happened. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And spoil your honeymoon. Look, I’m all right now. It was just a one-night stand.”
“Sweetie, I’m bringing over a bottle of wine. We’ll get a takeaway.”
One look at the mess around me and I have to object. “I don’t know ...”
“It’s not up for debate, cupcake. I’ll be over in a flash.” I know better than to argue with her. She always gets her way. I force myself off the couch and start tossing handfuls of used tissue into the wastebasket. I clear away the pizza boxes and the Chinese food takeaway cartons.
When I step into the bathroom to wash my face, the sight of my reflection makes me wince. The puffy eyes, the red, swollen nose. All this over a one-night stand. What an idiot. I splash cold water again and again in the hopes of bringing down the swelling and making myself feel a little more human. He’s just a man. Just a silly man.
Charlotte agrees with me as she opens the first bottle of wine only minutes later. “He’s just a man, like so many other men. Nothing special.”
“I guess so,” I say with a shrug, careful to avoid eye contact as I open boxes of good smelling Italian food. It occurs to me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and my stomach rumbles in appreciation.
“You guess? Was he really that good?”
“Charlotte, please.”
She swings her auburn hair over one shoulder and fixes me with a steady gaze. “Izzy, be honest with me. Are you really that broken-hearted over him?”
“I … no … yes, I am.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She rises up and, coming to sit next to me, pats my knees. “It’ll pass. I promise you that. One day, you’ll find the right guy and you’ll look back on this time and be glad it was not him.”