Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(14)

Looking around the room, I took a deep breath. Then, my eyes returned to the closed door.

I was alone—again.

I stared down at the abandoned board game, which we’d barely begun, and my empty pudding cup lying next to it. At that moment, the reality of my day finally caught up to me.

No amount of chocolate, silly games, or odd visits from nurses’ assistants could hide the fact that my heart was giving up on living.

What if I’m not ready for that?

After I’d found out the family had changed their minds, I’d been so upset that I asked Dr. Marcus to do anything he could to hold off on the need for a transplant. He wasn’t thrilled with my decision but he’d managed to make it work, finding alternate treatment methods over the last few years. That night had scared me and reminded me of how precious life was.

One life had to be given in order for another to live on. I hadn’t been ready for that responsibility yet.

After taking one last look around the room, I closed my eyes. Finally breaking down the walls I’d constructed around myself to keep my emotions at bay, I curled into my bed, succumbing to the emotions of the day and cried myself to sleep.

Six: Selfish—Jude

I COULDN’T REMEMBER the rest of my shift after I’d left Lailah’s room that night. I just remembered moving through the motions, going from one task to the other, while her words had echoed through my head over and over until they had practically seared themselves into my very soul.

Finding a match and in the same hospital was like angels bringing me a miracle.

The family changed their minds at the last minute.

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe it was true.

By the time I’d clocked out and driven home, I’d convinced myself I was out of my mind for even thinking about it in the first place.

But then, as I sat in the dark recess of my lonely apartment that night, I allowed myself to do the one thing I’d sworn I wouldn’t ever do again. I let my mind drift back to those horrible moments in the hospital three years ago when I’d found myself sinking into the most selfish parts of me

“You can’t do this. She’s still in there. You’re killing her!” I screamed in desperation, the hoarse sound of my voice echoing through the stark white hallway.

“Jude,” Megan’s father, Paul said in a passive tone meant to be soothing.

It wasn’t soothing though. It only fueled my aggression even further.

“Listen to me,” he said. “This is hard on us, all of us.” His voice cracked, and he brought his shaking fist to his chin in an effort to steady his emotions.

Megan’s mother, Susan, took a step forward and wove her tiny hand through his and gave it a loving squeeze. I turned away.

“The doctors said there is nothing else they can do. She’s gone, son. We have to let her go now.”

His words hit my chest like a battering ram. She wasn’t gone. I could see her. She was just behind that door.

“Her heart is still beating. I can see her chest rise when she breathes. I can still touch her skin. She’s not gone,” I stated my case, my voice growing small with every word.

“The doctors said that because she’s an organ donor, we could let someone else live. Her heart is still healthy. She’ll live on through someone else. This is something she would have wanted Jude. We’ve already told them yes.”

I couldn’t fathom it. I couldn’t stand the thought of them making this decision, snuffing out her life. They didn’t know what the future held.

“How do you know she’s gone? What if you’re killing her?” I shouted, the words making them wince, as tears clouded my vision. I slumped against the wall and collapsed to the floor.

My future was behind the door. She was my everything. They couldn’t have her. I wouldn’t allow it. No one would take her heart or her life—ever.

I’d won the battle that day. After a few more rounds of arguing, Megan’s parents hadn’t had the strength left to fight anymore. I’d planted the seed of doubt in their minds, they’d eventually crumbled. They’d told the doctors no to any organ donations and I’d spent the rest of the day by Megan’s side, holding her hand and trying to bring her back into consciousness. I’d wanted to prove everyone wrong and thought I could will her back with my love alone.

But not even love could bring someone back when the mind was lost.

She’d died three days later.

At that time, Megan’s parents could have still donated her heart and many of her other organs that hadn’t been damaged in the car crash, but by then they’d lost the will to do so. By giving them hope that she’d somehow come back, I’d made those last few days hell for them. Two different doctors had pronounced her brain dead, but somehow, I’d thought I knew better. I hadn’t allowed her parents to mourn the way they needed to. I never attended her funeral, and I hadn’t left California since.

I’d lived with the guilt of that horrible, selfish day ever since. Megan’s parents had been able to look past their own grief and see the bigger picture. They had known someone else could live on even if their daughter couldn’t.

Why couldn’t I?

I had been selfish, so damn selfish.

Was my selfishness also the reason Lailah was still sitting in a hospital room, watching life instead of living it?