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It comes back all at once, and my eyes fly open. Carter’s talking to someone on the phone, although yelling is actually a better way to describe it. Logan is on his knees next to me, holding my hand. Quaid is pacing back and forth, anxiously watching me.
“She’s awake!” Quaid yells just then, and I flinch because fuck, my head hurts so bad.
Carter abruptly ends his phone call and sprints over. I’ve never seen his eyes like this. They’re panicked.
“What happened?” I ask faintly, trying to sit up. Logan immediately places a hand on my shoulder to keep me lying down. I finally realize that we’re on the sidewalk up against a wall. Passersby are staring at us anxiously. My cheeks flush from so much attention.
“You fucking fainted, Valentina. That’s what fucking happened,” Carter hisses, looking like he’s about to lose control. He clenches and unclenches his fist, and then rears back and strikes the wooden wall beside us, punching a hole right through it. I cringe, thinking he probably just destroyed something hundreds of years old, knowing my luck.
“Are they coming?” Logan barks at him.
“Is who coming?” I ask hoarsely, feeling panic start to swell in my gut.
“The ambulance,” Logan snaps at me.
I bolt up, despite the fact that the movement makes me want to throw up. “No, please. No hospital.”
I’m out of it with panic. Just the thought of going back to the hospital… I puke out the breakfast we just had all over the sidewalk next to me, the vomit splashing on Quaid’s shoes, despite my attempt to miss him.
“Sweetheart, you have to go to the hospital. Healthy people don’t faint,” Logan says cajolingly. He’s trying to calm down for my sake, because that’s who Logan is, but the anxiety is written all over his face.
“Please, no hospital. I’m fine. Really,” I beg once more, struggling again to sit up.
This time, Logan doesn’t stop me, instead, he scoops me into his arms and stands with me in his hold.
Carter’s in my face, and I flinch back. A look of regret passes over him, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
“You’re not fucking fine,” he spits out slowly, his fists still bunched in front of him. “Your head’s bleeding. You fainted. Your nose won’t stop bleeding. You can barely eat. You’re weak. You’ve lost weight. You get headaches all the time. You’re not fucking fine.” His voice isn’t angry anymore by the time he finishes. It’s just defeated.
And I think I hate that more than the anger.
It’s time to tell them the truth. Looking at all three of them, I realize that my silence is destroying them, in maybe the same way that my diagnosis will. I’m hurting them every day.
I can’t do that anymore.
“No hospital,” I say tiredly. “Let’s just go back to the hotel. I’ll…I’ll tell you everything.”
“No lies?” Quaid asks. I flinch when I look at him. Gone is the confident goofball that I’m so in love with. In its place is a man who’s scared.
“No lies,” I promise quietly.
It feels like a death march as Logan carries me down to the corner, where we hail a cab. Not a word is spoken after giving the driver directions. We’re all soaking wet from the rain, and the cab is filled with that musty, wet smell that only comes after a steady rain shower. Logan strokes my hair half-heartedly, but keeps his gaze out the window. Carter opens and closes his fists as he stares down at his lap. Quaid’s up front, his gaze flicking to me ever so often, as if he’s afraid that I’m going to disappear on him any second now.
And then we’re back at the hotel. My pulse is racing, and my head hurts so fucking bad. There’s still some blood trickling down the side of my face from where I fell onto the street. I’m not really worried about it. Whatever I’ve injured on my head isn’t worse than the diseaseinmy head.
Logan carries me through the lobby. I can hear the whispers around us as surprised and concerned visitors watch us. We look quite the sight with our soaking wet appearances and the fact that I’m bleeding in Logan’s arms. We seem to draw eyes everywhere on this trip, but never before was it like this. I would feel embarrassed, but I’m too sick to truly care.
A hotel attendant tries to come up to us right before we get to the elevator. “We’re fine,” Carter barks darkly, and the attendant quickly scampers away.
I let out a small sigh when the elevator door closes and envelops us in privacy. The trip up to our floor seems to take forever. I’m wanting it to come faster and dreading it at the same exact time. And although I try and prepare myself, when the elevator doors open, I have to fight the urge to run.
Although with how I feel, running wouldn’t get me very far.
Logan walks over to the couch and gently sets me down. Logan and Quaid sit on the couch opposite of me, while Carter chooses to stand behind them. I feel like I’ve walked in front of a firing squad.
“Start talking,” orders Carter.
My hands are shaking, so I clasp them in front of me to try and control them. I open my mouth to talk, but the pain in my head becomes almost blinding. Whether it’s from the fall, the stress, or the fucking tumor, it’s too much for me to handle right now for this conversation.
