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Charlie munched on his inner cheek. “Drop it.”
“That bad?” I asked gently.
“Worse.”
So it must be terminal. My heart slowed, heavy in my chest. If he didn’t want to say, I didn’t want to press.
“Got it. No more questions.” I nodded.
“Appreciate it.”
“Other than one,” I amended, holding my joint up in the air between us. “Where’s your wheelchair, asshole?”
It took charming two nurses and flirting with one doctor before I could get a wheelchair for Charlie. Then another fifteen minutes for us to find our way out to the communal garden. It was mostly empty. Better for us, since I’d brought over Blue Dream, my favorite weed. Chef’s kiss. Michelin-starred marijuana.
I put the brakes on Charlie’s chair and leaned against a fake plant, giving him the honor of lighting up. He took a long hit, waited until the smoke reached the bottom of his lungs, then released, coughing a little.
He kicked his head back and closed his eyes. “Haven’t had one of those since I was twenty.”
“A doobie?” I asked, surprised. “Don’t like the effect?”
“On the contrary. I love it. Not so much the person it turns me into, though.”
I decided not to pry, since he was already dealing with a terminal disease and the shit ton of problems it brought with it. I couldn’t helpbut wonder what it felt like to die alone, since that was exactly what was about to happen to Charlie. And, one day, tome.
“Well, now that you have a mysterious disease, you can be whoever you want.” I watched as he puffed on his spliff. “The perks of dying are never ending.”
He laughed and coughed at the same time. “Everything has an ending. That’s the point of living.” There was a brief silence. “So. HowisDuffy?”
“You’re like a dog with a bone.”
“Give me the meat then.”
“She’s fine.” Then, when he kept looking at me and grinning, I groaned. “She’s coming to visit you tonight.”
“I’m more interested to know howyoufeel about living with her. You guys seemed close when I met you in the hallway the other day.”
I liked that he didn’t feel embarrassed about the state he’d been in that day.
“She’s way too young.” It was the only thing I could think of saying, since “She’s too hell bent on marrying up” sounded lame and “I’m too scared of commitment” seemed too personal.
“If anything, you’re too young forher.” He wiggled his brows, taking another toke.
I laughed. “Are you gonna pass me that joint this century?”
“Nope.”
“Pfft.”My eyes grazed the side of his face. “You’re lucky you’re dying, you know. I’m normally not that forgiving.”
“So lucky.” Charlie nodded weakly.
After he was done, I wheeled him back to his room and asked if I could grab him something from the cafeteria before I left. Charlie said he was good. That whole time, Christian and Arsène were waiting in the room’s small balcony.
They slid the glass door and walked back inside when they noticed me helping Charlie back into his bed. There was something reallydepressing about helping out this big, muscular man do something so trivial.
“Ready to go?” Christian clapped my shoulder.
“Yeah.” I glanced at the time on my phone. “But I think I’m heading home.”
