With Every Heartbeat

I spotted it seconds later and pulled it free. After shutting the drawer, I returned to the bathroom. I wanted to question and lecture her so bad.

She rarely followed any of her dietitian’s suggestions. And as often as I tried to feed her the right food, I really didn’t see her most of the day, so she could be eating anything when I wasn’t around. And I had no idea how much alcohol she drank.

“Go ahead,” she mumbled after she chewed and swallowed her pill.

I blew out a breath. “You’re not going to die, Cora,” I said, and then I shook my head because that was probably one of the worst things I could’ve said. But, really... “I’m here to help. This is going to pass. And the dialysis will be over soon. Just a couple more months and you’ll have a new kidney, and you won’t have to worry about any of this again. I know you said you wanted to live your life how you wanted because no one knew how long they had left, but not watching your diet is just going to make you miserable and maybe even delay things until you can get through this.”

Cora closed her eyes and bowed her head before pressing a palm to her temple. “I know,” she reluctantly admitted. “You’re right. I just...It’s easier to pretend nothing is wrong when I eat...whatever. And drink...whatever.”

“I know.” I cringed, wishing I could trade places with her, even just for a day so she could get a little escape. Just a small respite. “But—”

Down the hall, someone knocked on the front door. A second later, a familiar voice called, “Hello? Cora?”

Cora and I exchanged a glance, mine begging her to finally just confess everything, hers pleading with me to keep silent.

I blew out a surrendering breath as footsteps drew near. Another knock fell outside her bedroom. “Cora?”

“In here,” I said. Cora sliced me with a lethal glare half a second before Quinn appeared in the bathroom’s opened doorway.

He took one look at his girlfriend still planted on the floor in front of the toilet and bolted inside.

“Oh my God. What happened? Are you okay?”

Cora shook her head and lifted a hand. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. Just...the flu, I think.”

Quinn landed on his knees beside her and instantly pressed his palm to her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Does your stomach hurt?”

“It feels a lot better now.” Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she asked, “Could you carry me back to bed?”

“Of course.” Quinn scooped her up without a smidgeon of protest. When he turned her my way, I hurried out of the doorway to let them through.

Quinn met my gaze as he passed. I knew there was something in my expression that made him blink in confusion. Maybe it was the sympathy he didn’t see because I was too busy silently screaming at her to just tell him everything already. Maybe it how solemn I was, and he’d just figured out something was seriously wrong. Or maybe he just wanted me to leave.

That one I could do.

Because I couldn’t stand there and watch her lie to him. She obviously liked him taking care of her; she cuddled into him like a content kitten and closed her eyes with a small sigh as he tenderly tucked her into the sheets. So, why didn’t she just tell him?

“I’m going to set your nausea tablets here on top of the nightstand,” I said.

“Thanks,” Cora murmured weakly, and Quinn once again glanced at me, his gaze penetrating something so deep inside me I felt stripped bare.

A strange fear clutched me as a pale, stone-faced Zoey walked stiffly from Cora’s room. She looked...I don’t know. She looked shell-shocked. And Cora looked like death warmed over with bags under her eyes and her face flushed as if she did have a fever.

Something wasn’t right. And it was not the flu.

I sat next to Cora on her mattress and let her curl up with her head in my lap. Stroking her hair, I watched her close her eyes and breathe deeply, trying to fall asleep.

“Are you pregnant?” I finally asked.

Her eyes fluttered open and she scowled at me. “Why do guys always automatically assume a girl’s pregnant as soon as she upchucks?”

Okay, so she wasn’t pregnant. “Bulimia?” I asked next.

She sighed as if already exhausted by my interrogation. Then she closed her eyes without answering me.

I continued to sift my fingers through her hair. “I know this isn’t just the flu, Cora. You’ve continuously lost weight for as long as I’ve known you. Every day, you seem to get more fatigued. This is something so much more than a common cold.”