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“I know you haven’t had much of an appetite recently, so I thought I’d try one of your favs.”
“You didn’t?” I smile when she digs into the bag and pulls out a white takeout box.
“Oh, I did.” She sets it on the table and flips open the lid, revealing a huge helping of Chicken Alfredo. She chuckles when she catches my expression. “But that’s not all.” She reaches back into the bag. “Tada.” She pulls out a stack of breadsticks and drops them next to the container of pasta.
“I could kiss you right now,” I tell her, my mouth already watering.
“I thought this might cheer you up.” She pulls out another container of Alfredo for herself before she tips the bag upside down, spilling plastic silverware and napkins onto the table.
Crumbling the bag into a ball, she turns, dropping it into the trash before plopping down into the chair next to my bed.
“Hand me a breadstick, will ya?” She peels the lid off her pasta.
“Here.” I slide one out of the pack and hand it to her before dragging one out for myself.
Tearing off the tip, I pop it into my mouth, moaning around the bite.
“Good?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer.
“So good.” I wait until I swallow to answer. “Now let’s see if I can keep it down.”
“You look good today,” she observes, forking some pasta into her mouth.
“I feel okay. Well, when I’m not throwing up anyway.”
“I’ve noticed your spirits have been up over the last few days. I’m guessing I have a certain hot guy to thank for that.” She smirks.
“Maybe.” I shrug sheepishly. “He asked if he could call me later.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said it’s better just to text right now.”
“Why?” She gives me a questioning look.
“I don’t want to risk him hearing something that gives away where I am.”
“And would it be such a bad thing if he did know?”
“Yes,” I blurt.
“Why?”
“Because look at me.” I gesture to myself.
“Iamlooking at you.”
“I look horrible.”
“You do not look horrible. Considering everything you’ve been through over the past few weeks you actually look really good.”
“I beg to differ.” I snort, shoving a bite of pasta into my mouth. “I’m just not ready for him to know,” I say around a mouthful of food.
“I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, but from where I’m sitting, I can’t see where him knowing would be anything but a good thing. If he can make you smile the way you were smiling when I walked in this room with nothing more than a few little text messages, imagine what he could do for you if he was here with you.”
“That’s just it, though. Once he finds out it won’t be the same. Once he finds out I become the patient. Weak. Sick. Something for him to pity. I get that from everyone else. I don’t want that from him, too.” I pause. “When I see him again I want to do it on my terms. I want to wait until I’m better. Until I know I have a future to explore with him. I can’t bring him back into my life just to lose him all over again.”
“Honey, I hate to break it to you but you’ve already let him back in.”
