Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Hazel climbs up on my bed beside me. She’s been such a good sister through all of this. I know the days she spends here with me are long and boring for her, but she hasn’t whined or complained even once. She’s always here for me right when I need her. Plus, apart from Noah, she comes fully loaded with the best hugs imaginable, and the fact that she always smells like strawberry shampoo makes it that much better.
She helps straighten my bandana, and I give her a weak smile, thanking her as my eyes grow watery. I never wanted her to see me like this. She was so young when I was sick last time, but I don’t remember it ever being this bad, and I’m sure she doesn’t have any memories from that time. She just knows what she’s seen in pictures or from the brief stories Mom and Dad have shared with her. But this, seeing me this way . . . I hate it. On the other hand, I’m also not willing to pull away because every day I open my eyes, I’m left wondering just how much time I have left with the people I love.
A soft knock sounds at the door, and the second Noah glances up and sees Dr. Sanchez striding in, he crosses to my other side. His grip on my hand is so tight that it hurts, but I don’t dare tell him that, not wanting him to let go.
His hair has already started growing back, and I know he did it for me, but damn it, the buzz-cut look is really working for him. But then, everything always works for him, whether his hair is long or short, he’s always been so undeniably gorgeous.
Just like last time, Dr. Sanchez takes a seat at the end of my bed, her gaze dropping to Allie pulled up against my chest. She gives me a fond smile, and I see it right there in her eyes, the same look she gave me after my last round of chemo.
It failed.
“How are you feeling today, Zoey?”
“Like you’re about to give me the news we’ve all been dreading,” I murmur, not having the patience to do the whole small talk thing. Put me out of my misery. Rip it off like a Band-Aid and get it over and done with so I can figure out my next step and work out how much time I have left on this earth. “It didn’t work, did it?”
Dr. Sanchez presses her lips into a hard line, regret shining bright in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s time to start looking into alternate forms of treatment.”
Noah crumbles beside me, his knees failing as he drops to the ground. His face falls into our joined hands as Hazel breaks out in a gutted sob, crushing herself into my arms, and squishing Allie between us. My parents cry, but I already feel so broken that I don’t shed a single tear. I’m just empty now.
“Am I . . . am I going to die?”
“Zoey!” my mom gasps in horror before breaking into even harder sobs, struggling for air.
“No, Zoey,” Dr. Sanchez says, squeezing my foot as she always does. “You still have a shot at beating this. We’ll arrange an appointment in a few days to go through your options, but I don’t want you getting yourself down. I know it’s getting harder, but I need you to keep your spirits up. You can still fight this.”
I nod, not believing her for even a second, and when she asks my parents to go out into the hallway with her and have a private conversation, I realize she was just sugarcoating it for me or Hazel.
I watch them through the small window and whatever Dr. Sanchez is telling them has Mom crumbling into Dad’s side, heaving sobs tearing from deep within her. “It’s okay, Zo,” Noah promises me, lying through his teeth. “I’m not going to lose you.”
Noah grabs my chin, forcing me to hold his stare, and I see nothing but pure desperation shining in his dark eyes. “Tell me,” he grits through a clenched jaw. “Tell me you’re going to keep fighting this.”
“I will,” I promise him. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”
“Good,” he says, letting out a shaky breath with fear in his eyes. “Then we take you home to rest and give you whatever you need to get stronger. Then we come back and finish this. We do whatever we need to do to keep you breathing. You hear me, Zozo? I’m not fucking losing you.”
I lean in and drop my lips to his, hating that one day I might have to break my promise, that one day it’ll become too much, and I won’t be able to fight anymore. “I swear,” I tell him. “I’m going to be right here by your side until we’re old and gray. I’m not going anywhere just yet.”