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He opened his eyes, and when he saw me, his whole face lit up. For a second, he looked like my friendly neighbor again.
“Riggs,” he grumbled. His hand twitched. Did he want me to touch it? Well, I wasn’t ready for that. “You came.”
“Duffy told me—” I started, then stopped. There was no polite way of saying “You’re about to drop dead.”
Charlie exhaled. “I’m hoping they’ll pump enough drugs into me that I won’t feel it.”
“You should’ve said something. I’d have scored you some.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Ain’t too late for that.”
I forced myself to laugh, not sure if he was kidding or not.
Awkward silence swathed the room. Neither of us acknowledged the giant elephant inside it, which was my being here after making it clear I would never give him the time of day again.
Finally, Charlie spoke. “So ... what’s in the bags?” He jerked his chin toward a few paper bags at my feet.
“Ah, yeah.” I reached down, pulling out an Aussie meat pie, a craft lager from Scotland, and Maharaja Bengali sweets from India.
“We haven’t had the chance to get to know each other,” I said ruefully, leaning on his bed with an iPad with a playlist of my favorite songs, movies, and galleries from around the world. “I figured I’ll give you the bulletin points of all my favorites. So when you’re stuck in the elevator between hell and heaven, you can bullshit your way and say you had a son, and that you actually knew him.”
Charlie pressed his head against the flat pillow on his bed and closed his eyes. His throat moved as he tried to swallow in a sob. His chin quivered. I stopped unloading my bags and watched him intently. I’d never seen a grown man cry like that, but I was beginning to see that life had a way of breaking you, no matter who you were.
“You’re my biggest regret.” He shrank in front of my eyes into something small and fragile. “I want you to know that. If I could turn back time and do one thing different, it would be being a real father to you. I know it means jack shit right now. Way too little, way too late. But for what it’s worth—it’s the truth.”
Did I forgive him? No, I didn’t think so. If I did, it was only because he was dying, which was not a solid reason at all.
Instead of ridding him of his guilt trip, I cleared my throat. “How do you know it’s time?”
“Cachexia.”
“And in English?”
“I’m wasting away, Riggs. My systems are shutting down. My muscles are no longer functioning. In fact, speaking to you right now hurts. Hell,blinkinghurts.”
Oh, fuck. I couldn’t take it anymore. The emotional overload Charlie and Duffy had put me through in the last couple of months. I was about to tell him that in my book, he was forgiven, when Duffy rushed through the door.
“Bloody hell, you’d think an established hospital would know how to find a patient in their system if he got switched to another unit ...” She froze midstride when she realized she’d walked into a tense moment. Her frown melted.
“Shall I come back later?” She jerked a finger behind her shoulder.
“No,” I said, at the same time Charlie said, “Yes.”
Charlie took one look at me, probably realizing I needed her in that moment.
“Just kidding.” He forced out a smile. “Come in, angel.”
Cautiously, she made her way in and took his hands in hers, squeezing them tight. My eyes landed on where their skin touched, and I wondered what it said about me that I was jealous of a dying man because Daphne was touching him.
It says that you’re a fucking coward who doesn’t want to give this thing a chance because you’re afraid of getting hurt, as if you’re not already in shambles.
Unable to deal with my own bullshit and with the tragedy unfolding in the room, I stood up and excused myself. I went outside and postponed my flight to Marrakech. I wasn’t going to board a plane tonight, that was for damn sure.
The next eight hours were passed watching my movies, going through galleries of my photos, eating my favorite food, and drinking my favorite drinks (probably should have thought that one through, since Charlie wasn’t in a condition to swallow anything other than his own saliva). I showed him pictures from my mountain-climbing adventures, and he alternated between crying and laughing. Duffy was crying too. Quietly, sitting in the corner of the room and looking at us in awe. I couldn’t understand how this self-proclaimed gold digger ended up having a heart of gold, but somehow, she did.
Nurses and doctors breezed in and out of the room, checking in on Charlie. They didn’t offer us much information, just sympathetic looks, which was how I knew we were close to the end.
Eight hours after I arrived, Charlie’s pain became unbearable. He stopped talking altogether and only smiled or nodded in response to everything around him.
