One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(39)

Dr. Howell leveled me with a shrewd look. “Yes, that’s very true.”

I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable. “I’ll speak to Yoss about the counseling. Though I’m prepared for him to not like the idea.”

“I think you might have your work cut out for you with this one.” Dr. Howell chuckled.

“I think you’re right,” I agreed, with a grim smile.

“The biopsy will show if he is viable for a transplant. Otherwise…”

Dr. Howell didn’t need to finish the sentence. We both knew what it would mean for Yoss if he were unable to have a transplant.

“Thanks, Dr. Howell. I’ll let you know what Yoss decides,” I said.

The doctor nodded and headed down the hallway. I walked back into Yoss’s room. It was quiet. Too quiet.

I pushed aside the curtain and found Yoss sitting up in bed, trying to pull the IV from his arm.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, hurrying to his side and swatting his hand away.

Yoss scowled at me. “I’m getting the f*ck out of here. I’m not going to sit around waiting to be told I’m gonna die. This place is suffocating. I can’t stay here!” He sounded slightly panicked.

“Yoss, you’re not thinking clearly—”

“Don’t say that shit to me, Imi. Just don’t. You know I can’t die here. I just can’t.” His eyes were slightly wild. His breathing shallow and erratic.

“You don’t know that you’re going to die, Yoss. Did you hear anything Dr. Howell told you? There are a lot of options for you. Medication management. A liver transplant. Stop jumping to the worst case scenario,” I said harshly.

“My life is one never-ending worst case scenario, Imogen,” he seethed, clenching his fists. At least he wasn’t trying to rip the needle out of his arm anymore.

I put my hands on his shoulders, my fingers digging slightly into his skin. Yoss stiffened. Just like he always did when I touched him. “Lay down, Yoss. You need to rest. You leave now and you will die. Do you understand me?”

Yoss didn’t say anything, but he let me reposition him back on the bed. I fluffed his pillows and straightened the blanket over him.

I startled when he began to laugh. It was incongruous with the situation and I felt a shiver make its way down my spine. “How the f*ck did I get here, Imi? God! This is not how things were supposed to end up.”

Defeated.

Lost.

Yoss was wrecked.

I tucked the blanket around him, my hand lingering on his arm. “I know, Yoss.”

I wanted to add, it could have been different.

If you hadn’t left me alone in the rain.

If you had gone away with me as we had planned.

But I wouldn’t put that blame on him. It wasn’t fair.

I didn’t understand his reason for leaving me, but I knew, looking at him, that to him it had been important. And I’d find out the truth. Eventually.

“One day soon, we’ll dance on the sand,” he whispered, his eyes suddenly bright with unshed tears.

He wiped his nose and made a murmur of disgust. “I was such an idiot.”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Yoss,” I snapped.

Yoss glanced at me in surprise. “Excuse me?”

I glared at him. “You were never the kind of person to wallow in self-pity, so don’t start now.”

Yoss’s eyes narrowed. “A lot has changed in fifteen years, Imogen. You don’t know what kind of person I am anymore.”

“I know who you are, deep down. That never changes. No matter how much you try to cover it up with resentful bullshit.”

Yoss chuckled again and I hated the sound of his insincere laughter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I couldn’t take his self-condemnation anymore. He watched me as though he expected me to leave. Maybe he wanted me to. Perhaps it would have been easier on the both of us.

To leave whatever we used to be in the past.

But I wouldn’t.

I could never give up on Yoss as he so obviously had given up on himself.

I pulled out my laptop and set it down on the table, swinging it around so that it was in front of Yoss.

I found the file I was looking for and clicked. Familiar strains of music filled the room and Yoss glanced at me, his expression unreadable.

“What are you doing?” he asked roughly.

I sat back in my chair, getting comfortable. “You need to remember the guy that would never wallow. The guy who refused to let me wallow either. The one who snuck me into the old movie theater so we could watch this movie.”

The opening credits for Fiddler on the Roof came up on the screen.

“I’m not that guy anymore, Imi. You’re setting yourself up for disappointment,” he said quietly. So, so sadly.

“Do still know the lyrics to all the songs?” I asked, ignoring his statement.

Yoss shook his head, but finally he smiled.

“I’ll leave that up to you,” he answered

“Don’t you remember how bad my voice is? Are you sure you want to subject your eardrums to that?” I teased.

It felt good. To smile. To laugh.

Natural.

Like heartbeats and sunsets.

Happy endings and old movies.