Within These Walls (The Walls Duet #1)(40)

Marcus leaned back in his chair and set his steely gaze on me. “Anything you want to tell me, Jude?”

No J-Man today. Just Jude.

“What do you want to know?” I took a long gulp of coffee that tasted like mud.

“I want to know why you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you, Marcus—” I started.

He cut in, “No? You didn’t say that you’d stay away from Lailah? That you’d be a friend and nothing more?” His eyes were blazing.

During our conversation regarding Lailah, I’d never made any promises to Marcus and I couldn’t help but wonder where all this was coming from. “Look, I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t go into this expecting for any of this to happen.”

“You said you weren’t capable of loving anyone else, Jude. I trusted you,” he spit.

His use of the word love felt like a blow to my knees, spiraling me back to the night I’d proposed to Megan when I’d sworn I would love only her for the rest of my life.

“But I do love her,” my voice croaked out in disbelief as I stared down at the table, lost in my own head. Knowing something and acknowledging it were two entirely different things.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“No, I’m sure. Just surprised. I didn’t think I was capable of it either.”

I finally looked up at him and found him watching me. Those punishing blue eyes worked and processed me like he was dismantling a clock or contemplating the space-time continuum.

“What changed?”

“Lailah. She changed everything. She makes me feel human again. I don’t dread living anymore.”

“But what are you doing for her?”

“What?” I asked.

“You just said how she makes you feel. What are you doing for her? What do you make her feel? I care about her far more than I care about you, buddy. If you want my blessing on this, tell me what you’re doing for my girl?”

My gaze narrowed as I looked at him, really looked at him. “What’s your connection to Lailah and Ms. Buchanan?”

“I’m Lailah’s doctor,” he answered in a clipped tone.

“Okay,” I relented, letting it go for now.

Eager to return to Lailah’s bedside, we rose from the table and threw our shitty coffee into the trash before heading for the elevator. As the doors slid closed and we made our way skyward, I felt Lailah’s presence growing as the gap between us lessened.

“You never answered my question,” Marcus said, cutting the silence like a knife.

“What question?”

“What are you going to do for Lailah?”

The elevator dinged, and the door opened. Both of us stepped off onto the worn laminate floor, and I gazed down the hall toward my sleeping angel.

“Everything. I’ll give her everything.”





SHAPES SLOWLY TOOK form as my eyelids hesitantly lifted for what felt like the first time in centuries. I moved to rub the sleep from my eyes, but my hand was restrained, encased in a warm tenderness I instantly recognized. I turned my head and found Jude’s soft green eyes staring back at me.

“Morning,” he whispered, bringing my hand he was holding up to his lips.

The touch instantly sent shivers running up my spine, and it had nothing to do with my fever or sickness.

“Morning? What time is it? How long have I been asleep?” I asked, my voice still groggy and tired.

I moved around and noticed the absence of the aches and nausea I’d had previously. I actually felt a great deal better. I wasn’t at one hundred percent, but I definitely felt an improvement.

“Just over two days. Marcus purposely kept you asleep the first day, hoping you’d fight off the illness quicker that way. It seemed to help because your fever finally broke, so he was able to pull back on the meds. You’ve been asleep ever since.”

I’ve been asleep for two days?

Looking up at him, I noticed the deep dark circles under his eyes and the redness that rimmed his pupils. His shoulders sagged under the weight of his exhaustion, and his clothes were rumpled and worn.

“And you? How long have you been without sleep, Jude?” I asked.

He ran a tired hand through his messy hair. “I’m okay,” he replied.

When I gave him a pointed look, he amended, “I’ve had a few hours of sleep here and there. I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t leave you, Lailah.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him that he was being ridiculous. He needed to always take care of himself first. But as I watched him, tired and exhausted while speaking with such conviction at my bedside, I thought of everything he’d gone through in his past, and I knew that I couldn’t.

He was scared of losing someone else.

What sick, twisted sort of fate did I pull him into?

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tried to assure him, knowing I had no grounds to make such promises.

Like second nature, my fingers met the unshaven rough skin of his cheek, and he immediately leaned into my touch.

“I know,” he answered.

The elephant had officially landed in the room.

There were no more candid talks of dying and no more what-if conversations. The stakes had been raised. We’d gone from casual friends to so much more, more than I even had words to describe, and death had no place with the type of feelings we now shared.