The Life That Mattered (Life #1)(39)

If you exist, I’m sorry I lost faith. Blind faith is really hard for me. On the off chance that this unconditional love thing of yours is real, maybe you can forgive my skepticism, and do me this tiny favor of saving Ronin’s life. Thanks … or Amen.

And then … we waited.



One hour later, a doctor came out to tell us they hadn’t found anything, so they were running more tests. I got a little testy about their lack of figuring things out, while Victor and Ling maintained slightly sad yet eerily calm demeanors.

Two hours later, my best friends appeared around the corner of the waiting room. I jumped out of my chair and flew into Lila’s embrace as Graham gave me a sad smile over her shoulder.

“I told you not to come.” I hugged her like she was next on the list of people in my life to have something go wrong with her.

“You’re the most important person in my world. Of course, I came.”

Graham didn’t show an ounce of offense from Lila’s words. And he shouldn’t have been offended. He knew the bond I had with my best friend was unbreakable.

“Thank you,” I whispered on a wave of emotion, just as I released her. Batting away the tears before they fell, I cleared my throat and met Graham’s regretful gaze.

“It’s not your fault.” I dug through my emotions, looking for that brave face again. It had slipped off when I hugged Lila.

Graham returned a hesitant nod.

“There was no way for you to know how bad he felt. When I got to his house, he tried to convince me to leave. You did your part by telling me. Thank you.” I stepped into Graham’s embrace.

“Is there anything I can do?” Graham kissed the top of my head.

Money. He was asking if he could pay for something. He must have been emotionally stunted in a way; it’s wasn’t that he didn’t care. He just struggled with the fact that sometimes there wasn’t anything you could do about certain things, no matter how much money you had to throw at a situation.

“You turning around and bringing Lila to me is everything.”

Graham released me, delivering a hesitant nod.

Lila and I took seats in the waiting room while Graham fetched coffees and food for everyone. His need to feel like he was doing something was admirable and sweet. Sometimes Graham Cracker showed his vulnerability, and it came with a side of generosity. He felt bad for not seeing that Ronin was in such bad shape when leaving the lodge before they had a chance to eat lunch. I was positive Ronin did everything he could to hide the level of pain he felt.

“You can see him now.” The same doctor gave us her best comforting smile. “He’s in Room 212 on the second floor. We’re keeping him overnight just for observation. We didn’t find anything of concern with the test results. And he’s feeling much better now.”

“Did you give him something?” I asked because he was dying … it sounded like he was literally dying at his condo and when they loaded him into the ambulance. That wasn’t nothing. That wasn’t something that should have come back negative in testing.

“No.” She rubbed her lips together and shrugged. SHRUGGED!

“So you don’t know what was wrong with him?” I asked with heavy incredulity in my words.

She shook her head. “Not at this point.” Really, kudos to her for being honest and not giving us some made-up bullshit generic answer. But how could she not know?

“Let’s focus on the fact that he’s feeling better.” Ling took my hand and kissed the back of it.

I knew I’d be a much different mother than her—the kind that freaked out over cuts and scrapes, the kind that grabbed doctors and shook them while yelling, “How can you not know? It’s your job to know!”

When we got to Ronin’s room, he was sitting up in bed. And fuck me if he wasn’t wearing that same eerily calm but slightly worried smile. It must have been genetic.

I stayed back, waiting for Ling to run to his bed and embrace him with a deep sigh of relief. She didn’t. Maybe she was waiting for me to have my turn. I didn’t question it any further. I simply threw myself at him, burying my face in his neck.

“Oh my god … I was so scared.”

He hugged me with weak arms, which told me something was wrong with him. “I’m fine, baby. I’m fine.”

“But …” I pulled back, shaking my head. “You weren’t fine. You were in terrible pain. I heard you. I saw you. That wasn’t nothing. They have to keep looking. Something is—”

“Evie, Evie, Evie …” He pressed his palms to my cheeks and smiled as I blinked back my tears. “It was probably just a migraine. I’m fine.”

I covered his hands with mine. “A migraine? That …” I eased my head side to side, eyes squinted. “Do you get migraines?”

He never mentioned them before. And I’d never had one that I knew of—maybe a bad headache with an illness or too much stress, but not a migraine. I’d heard they could be painful, debilitating, and scary. But … Ronin was a strong man. I was supposed to believe the death scene that played out at his condo was a migraine?

“Not often.” He gave me a half shrug, releasing my face.

Why was everyone shrugging like it was no big deal? I wanted to scream. Just remembering what happened at his condo had my heart racing again and my breaths quickening.