Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(27)

Always seeming to be one step ahead of me, Lailah rummaged through the drawers of the massive kitchen and found a pizza cutter. She held it up with the intent to do harm to our cheesy masterpiece.

“Whoa there, Chucky. Why don’t you give me the sharp object, and I’ll cut the pizza? I’d rather not return you to Dr. Marcus with a missing appendage.”

Her brow rose in defiance, but she handed over the spinning wheel of death easily. Her arms folded across her chest, pushing her br**sts together under her dark blue sweater. Locked in a trance, my breath suddenly faltered. My fists tightened at my side, and I quickly looked away.

What the hell was that?

Choosing to ignore my body’s obvious confusion, I devoted my attention to cutting our pizza. Moments later, I plated each of us a slice. At the counter, she sat back down in the wheelchair, and I made a chair from a step stool.

“It’s perfect,” she said after taking the first bite. She looked casual and comfortable, leaned back in the wheelchair with her legs propped up against the edge of my step stool. It was the most relaxed I’d ever seen her—at least around me.

I took my first bite, and I was actually surprised. “Huh…how about that? It’s pretty damn good.”

“So, does this mean you’re going to make pizzas from scratch now?” she asked as she took a napkin to the corner of her mouth.

“Hell no. Gotta get my delivery boy through college. Besides, I wouldn’t have my sous chef.”

The second the sentence left my lips, I had a vision of Lailah standing in my kitchen, laughing with streaks of flour covering her nose and cheeks, as I stepped in behind her, wrapping my arms around her tiny waist, and kissed her shoulder.

No, not Lailah. Always Megan. Always.

I shook my head, trying to erase the image from my mind. Guilt swept through my gut, and I felt sick.

“Jude, are you okay?” she said, cutting through the fog in my mind.

“Yeah. Fine.” The words were barely more than a whisper. I didn’t even bother trying to cover up the despair seeping through every pore in my body.

Her hand touched my knee, and I jerked back instantly. I knew she was trying to be comforting, but after the crazy mind tricks my brain was doing, I couldn’t allow it.

I couldn’t allow any of this.

“Sorry,” I said, not even looking up to meet her gaze. “I’m not feeling well all of a sudden. Do you think we could cut this short?”

“Oh, um…sure. Just let me clean everything up,” she said, quickly jumping up to start gathering everything back into the bags.

I rose from my spot on the step stool. “Don’t worry about it, Lailah. I’ll come back in a few and take care of it all.”

“But you did so much, and look at all this food. I should at least help pack it, especially if you don’t feel well.” The words were tumbling out of her.

The obvious shift in my mood had made her nervous, and she was now reverting back to babbling.

I rested my hand on hers, desperately trying to ignore the feel of her soft skin beneath mine. “It’s fine. I can handle it.” I finally looked up at her.

Her eyes were wide and uncertain, and I watched as they searched mine for the hidden clue or missing piece that she couldn’t figure out. She knew I wasn’t sharing something, and she was right. But she didn’t know that it wasn’t just something. It was everything.

There wasn’t much conversation during our elevator ride back up to cardiology. I stood behind her as she studied her nails and then watched the different floors light up.

We said a quick good-bye. I made yet another excuse about not feeling well and needing to rest before my shift, and then I bailed. I didn’t think I took a breath until the elevators closed behind me, and I was moving downward, away from the cardiology department and Lailah.

I went back to the cafeteria, which was a great deal slower now that the rush had cleared out. I walked into the kitchen and proceeded to bag up all the unused produce, leaving it there with a note that said it was up for grabs. It would find a much better home among the kitchen staff. I wouldn’t know what to do with anything that had an expiration date.

I sadly looked down at the unopened cake I’d bought. We didn’t even make it to dessert.

Another note went on the cake.

I finished up cleaning, wiping down the counters and washing the few dishes we’d used. Once I was done, I thanked Betty and started to make my way out of the cafeteria.

“Hey, Puddin’. You forgetting something?” Betty asked, holding up two small cups of chocolate pudding.

I gave a weak smile and shoved my hands in my pockets. “No, not tonight. Thanks.”

I spent the next hour doing what I did whenever I would start to feel like the waves were pulling me under. I wandered the halls and found myself back at the place where I’d held her hand for the last time, where I’d bent down and kissed her bruised cheekbone before telling her I loved her even though I knew she couldn’t hear me, where I’d listened to her heart beat for the last time.

During the first year or so, I’d just walk the halls. Sometimes, I’d rest against a wall or even sit on the floor if it were a really bad day. After I’d started taking classes to become a nurses’ assistant, I’d come back after a particularly bad class about trauma patients and found a bench where I usually sat. I didn’t know who had decided to put it there, but I had my theories, and they all revolved around a certain woman in HR.