Within These Walls (The Walls Duet #1)(52)

“No. I’ve been by her side since the day she was born, and she has no idea who I am.”

“Why?”

“Molly was so angry for so easily falling so easily for my brother’s lies. She’d always prided herself on being methodical and making wise choices, and in five short weeks, she was wined, dined, and knocked up. I’d tried to warn her but by the time she started to listen, it was too late. After he left, she never wanted to speak about him again, so she didn’t. Because of that, my role was reduced to Dr. Marcus. I was allowed to be around but only in medical capacities. If it wasn’t for my occupation, I would have had no involvement in their lives at all.”

“A blessing and a curse,” I said as we stepped off the elevator.

“Yes, exactly. I’ve tried to convince Molly that I’m not him, that I would never hurt her, but he broke her, and I don’t know if she’ll ever trust another man again.”

We reached Lailah’s door, and I turned to Marcus before we entered. “Keep trying. Don’t give up, Marcus.”





“It looks good,” Ms. Buchanan said with a look of hope in her blue eyes.

“What does that mean?” Lailah asked, gripping my hand as two sets of eyes watched.

“It means,” she said, looking up at her daughter, “that I think things are finally going our way. I spoke with someone at the insurance company today to make sure they had everything they needed. Everything is in order with UCLA—they will do your surgery when it’s time and I double-checked they have everything they need. I didn’t want anything to go wrong with insurance.”

Lailah rolled her eyes, and I tried to keep my smirk from showing. Lailah had said how much of a control freak her mother was, and I had to agree. Seeing the woman in action was scary. She was like a hurricane in heels.

“You seriously called them?” Lailah said, her head shaking back in forth.

“Yes, I did. This isn’t something I want screwed up by some incompetent imbecile in a cubicle. I called and confirmed. I was told that everything was in and looked good,” she said.

“You’re taking the word of the incompetent imbecile?” Lailah asked, repeating her mother’s words back to her.

“No, of course not. I spoke with someone who actually reviews the cases.”

“Oh my God, Mother, you are too much.”

“I get things done,” she stated.

“I don’t even want to know how you accomplished that,” Marcus muttered. “But it’s good to hear. Hopefully, it will mean great news for us later on.”

Ms. Buchanan had to run off to a class, and Marcus had other patients to see. After a few short good-byes, it was just the two of us again.

Lailah stared out the window, deep in thought. “Do you ever think about what our lives would be like if it was approved? If I did get a transplant and we were actually able to be together outside of this room?”

“Yeah, I do.”

She looked over at me, her blue eyes still lost in her pondering. “What do you think about?”

“I think about taking you to the pier and finally dipping those pretty toes in the Pacific,” I said with a tiny smile. “I think about Ireland and that bed-and-breakfast and all the wicked things I promised to do to you.”

A quick blush crept up her cheeks. “But what if it never happens?” she asked.

“It will,” I said with conviction.

“How do you know? How can you be so sure?”

“Because I refuse to believe that it’s not possible. Somehow, someway, we will make it happen. I’m not giving up if you aren’t,” I said.

She didn’t look completely convinced, but she leaned forward. Resting her head against mine, her sign of surrender, she let me take her in my arms.

“What’s in the bag?” she asked after a long block of silence.

“Oh, I almost forgot about my little surprise.”

She lifted her head from my shoulder, and I quickly got up to retrieve the white paper bag from the floor. I joined her back on the bed and laughed when she eagerly looked inside.

“No peeking!” I exclaimed.

She pulled back, sitting up straighter and throwing her hands behind her back like she’d done nothing wrong.

“Now, I believe you told me about one thing on your list, and I might have given you a bit of a hard time about—”

“The prom?”

“No, not that one.” I suddenly had a fantastic idea.

“You’ve given me a hard time about several. So, why don’t you just show me?” she suggested with a teasing grin.

“Fine.” I reached into the bag and pulled out the small white box.

“You got me a cell phone!” she practically yelled.

It wasn’t the newest model, but it was the most I could afford. She could browse the web, install apps, and of course, text.

“I did.”

“So, now, I can finally text my other boyfriend!” she said, smiling.

“Cute, Lailah. Really cute,” I deadpanned.

I grabbed the box, placed it on the handy tray table next to her, and gave her a meaningful look as I leaned forward. I saw the flicker of awareness in her gaze seconds before I eased her back against the mattress. My hands slid down her arms, causing her breath to hitch. I weaved our fingers together and brought her hands high above her head.