Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
With everything packed and their luggage by the door, he crawled into bed to catch an hour or two of sleep before the sun rose. He lay on his side and watched her sleep. Her body had finally calmed down, and she slept peacefully.
Kent slept maybe two hours, and when he woke—thanks to the sun rising through the curtainless window—he found Palmer staring at him. She had unshed tears in her eyes. He took her hand in his and placed them in the middle.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She nodded and the tears fell. He had no idea what was going through her mind, but he had a good idea. Palmer was dying, and the realization weighed heavily on her.
“I wish I could take it all away.”
“I know,” she said, matching the quietness of his voice. “I failed.”
“At what?”
“Being a person,” she said. “I waited to live until I couldn’t live anymore, and I’d be dead now if it wasn’t for you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because had you not knocked on my door, I was going to take those pills and end things.”
“When did you decide to kill yourself?” he asked and then wished he hadn’t.
“After Dr. Hughes gave me the diagnosis,” she said. “I have nothing. I have no one. There isn’t anyone waiting for me at home, or anywhere else. Sure, I had my coworkers, but they all have lives. I went to church for the first time. I don’t know how long I sat there, looking at the man on the cross and asking him why. What did I do to deserve this? Haven’t I already suffered enough?” She started sobbing.
“I was raised in an orphanage. I’ve never had a Christmas morning where Santa left presents under a tree or had a mom to wake me up on my birthday with a cupcake and candle. I didn’t have anyone in the crowd when I graduated high school. I never went to homecoming or prom, and never bothered to learn how to drive. I’m not a bad person, yet I have the shittiest hand dealt. I want to live but can’t because I have this thing growing in my head that wants to control every part of my body, and I want to know why.
“After my second trip to the hospital, I sought out the drugs. I couldn’t believe how easy they were to find. I told the guy I wanted to die. He disappeared behind a door and came back with that tin. I didn’t even ask what they were, just handed over the money and left.”
Kent let Palmer say what she needed to say. He wished he could give her the answers she desired. To say life was unfair would be an understatement. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind this tumor could’ve been caught earlier. Even with her homeopathic take on medicine, someone could’ve recommended a brain scan to determine the cause of her headaches.
He moved closer and pulled her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and held his lips there. “I’m so sorry, Palmer. I’m also so damn thankful I knocked on your door that day and took those pills from you. I believe we’re meant to be on this journey together and you’re definitely meant to be in my life.”
“I’m thankful for you,” she said into his shirt. “I’ve never been thankful for much, but for you, I am.”
Kent leaned back so he could look into her eyes. He was on the verge of telling her that he was falling in love with her but thought twice. If he said those words, they could damage what they had between them, or they could hurt her in ways the tumor wasn’t. More to the point, he could break her heart, and that wasn’t his intention.
He returned to hugging her. It was his best defense against the sadness in her eyes. In another time, another place, they could’ve been something to each other, other than friends. When she sighed and disentangled herself from his hold, she sat up. Kent followed and broke the news that they were leaving. He expected her to put up a fight, but she nodded and slipped out of bed.
She closed the bathroom door, and within seconds Kent heard her crying. He wanted to go to her, but she needed her privacy. Palmer had demons to work through, and if she expunged them through tears, who was he to fault her.
When she emerged, she had blotches on her face, and her lower eyelids were red. Still, Kent said nothing.
Kent changed and finished packing what was left and walked around their suite one last time. Palmer would miss the garden tub, and he hoped he’d be able to find another hotel with one in the room for her, or at least a place with a hot tub.