The Life That Mattered (Life #1)(76)

Her gaze dropped to her lap. “I don’t know. I just … I don’t know,” she murmured.

“When he saw you in the ICU right after your surgery, he broke down. I had never seen that side of Graham. He sobbed over your broken body. Sobbed! It shattered my heart to see him like that, but it also erased any doubt, I mean any doubt I might have had about his love for you. So even if I think it’s a little douchey of him to not have brought you home from the hospital, I don’t let it dissuade me from trusting his love for you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m right.”

God … I hoped I was right. If I wasn’t right, Graham was a dead man.

“So … how’s Ronin feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Is he back to work?”

I nodded.

“Did they figure out why he went into cardiac arrest?”

“No.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

I shook the bottle of nail polish, contemplating telling Lila about Ronin’s theory … his past. We hadn’t discussed it since that day in my shop. Lila continued to get better and so did Ronin. He wasn’t back to himself, singing in the shower yet, but he was working and helping out around the house. It was hard to determine if his residual issues were really related to Lila’s accident.

“Of course, it bothers me. But I hit this point, you know? No solid answers, but also there was nothing else I could do. He’s supposed to be wearing a monitor still, but half of the time I find it tossed aside on the nightstand. He doesn’t think it’s his heart.”

“Then what does he think it is?”

Forever. That was how long Lila and I had been friends, or at least as long as I could remember. We didn’t keep secrets. All the things Ronin had yet to learn about me … Lila already knew.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Ronin’s near-death experience. I felt protective of him. As much as I loved and trusted Lila to keep an open mind and not judge him for what he believed, I found myself struggling with it. So if I still couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that Ronin had this highly sensitive empathic power with people whom he tried to save, then how could I possibly expect her to understand?

“He thinks it was a fluke. A strange, unexplainable incident that probably won’t ever happen again.”

“I hope not, for both of your sakes. How about your mom? Is she doing better since the seizure?”

“Yes. It’s…” I shook my head, brushing the pink nail polish onto Lila’s nails “…weird. I know she only has so much time left, and her seizure was a very hard reminder of that. But today she looked good. Healthy. It was hard to believe that there’s this cancer spreading through her body, stealing her life.”

“And your dad? How’s he holding up?”

“I’m scared for him. After she had that seizure, I was sitting on the floor in my house, holding my kids, Anya with a bleeding cut. And Ronin wasn’t doing well. Mom was on the floor in the bedroom waiting for the paramedics, and you were still in the ICU. Something inside of me snapped, causing me to take a step back and reevaluate what would be left of my life if I lost my mom, you, and Ronin. And I knew … I knew Franz and Anya would be enough. More than enough. I just don’t know if my dad will be able to step back after Mom dies and see that he still has enough left in his life to … live.”

The second I finished that thought, my heart sank to the pit of my stomach. “Lila … I … I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.”

I looked up from her hand. It didn’t feel fine. “I wasn’t thinking. I was feeling, and—”

“Evelyn, it’s fine.” She nodded, maintaining her best reassuring smile.

After Lila’s parents died, she had a rough time. I wasn’t enough. My family wasn’t enough. The only thing that filled that void in her heart was a flood of never-ending grief. She talked about that time as a black hole with no exit. She took a whole bottle of prescription pills that a friend from school sold her, and I found her in her car passed out later that afternoon in the school parking lot.

“I’m proud of you.” I continued painting her nails.

“Proud of me?” She laughed. “For trying to commit suicide?”

“Once. You tried once. Then you got help. And your situation hadn’t changed. You were still an orphan. You still missed your parents. You still thought life was unfair. But you never tried to check out again. And you could have.”

“Thank you, Evie. That actually means the world to me,” she murmured with soft sincerity.

“You’re a survivor.”

“Ha! I don’t know about that. Look at me. I’m at the mercy of other people to do the most basic things like go to the bathroom.”

“But you’re feeling better.”

“Yes. But I’m not without pain.”

“Where do you hurt?” I capped the nail polish and gave it a few more shakes before doing her other hand.

“My ribs are still sore and my leg. But my lower back has started to really ache at night too. I think it’s just from being bedridden. I’m hoping the physical therapist will help that by getting my body moving, so I can heal quicker.”