Page 105 of For You


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“Thirty-eight point two isn’t too bad considering, but I’d like you to check it every thirty minutes. If it gets to thirty-nine point five—”

“Yeah, I know. Call the ambulance.”

“Yes, and let me know. My shift finishes soon, Lo. I’ll stop by on the way home. Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

I thank him and cut the call, making my way to our room to sit with Billy until Dr. Smith arrives. I get halfway up the stairs when I hear the letterbox rattle. I turn and see an envelope on the doormat. Hurrying back down, I collect it up and turn it over, opening it up and pulling out a card. It’s a gift voucher for a beauty salon. “What?” I ask myself, turning the card over. There’s a note.

The salon appointment is optional. For the record, I like your hair rooty. Luke x

I smile down at the card and place it on the table before opening the front door. I see him halfway down the street. “Luke,” I call, taking a few steps onto the pavement.

He turns, his face frowning. “Go inside, Lo, it’s freezing out here.”

His order reminds me that I’m standing here in a short-sleeved dress and bare feet. I wrap my arms around my torso, hugging myself. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He waves a hand at me. “Now get inside.”

I ignore his follow-up command and jog toward him, ignoring the icy concrete penetrating the soles of my feet. When I make it to him, I throw my arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s everything. Thank you.” I break away from his warmth and resist putting myself back in his hold.

“You’re shivering, Lo.” He takes his coat off and swings it around my shoulders, looking past me when a loud clatter comes from my house. “What was that?” he asks, as I, too, look back at the house.

My veins run cold, my feet beginning to move without instruction. I run back to the house, a nasty feeling increasing my speed. I approach the stairs, listening carefully. Nothing. Dread engulfing me, I charge up the steps two at a time and push my way into Billy’s room, my eyes homing in on his bed. He’s not there. “Billy?” My heart beats its way up to my throat as I race to the bathroom across the room. “Billy?” I fall into the small space. Empty. I swing around, panic gripping me. It’s then I see him. “Oh my God.” I rush over to his motionless body lying on the floor by the window. “Billy!” My voice breaks, my hands padding over his body. “Billy, can you hear me?” He doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound. Water clouds my vision as I fight to locate the calm I need to act. Ambulance. I need an ambulance. But I don’t want to leave him to fetch the phone. I look up through my fog of tears and find Luke in the doorway of the bedroom, his face grave as he looks on. “Please,” I sob. “Please call an ambulance.”

His haunted eyes travel from Billy’s body to me. He looks like he’s gone into shock.

“Luke,” I yell, snapping him out of his trance. “Call an ambulance!”

He goes to his pocket and pulls out his mobile, but his voice is fuzzy as he speaks into it. I can’t hear a word, except for the pleas I’m screaming in my head.

This can’t be it. No. This can’t be the end.

Part Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

It all seems so real now. Standing in their bedroom watching Lo hysterical, falling apart, cradled over her husband’s lifeless body. She’s begging him to wake up. It’s all so surreal but real. I’m useless. There’s nothing I can do as I look on, feeling like an intruder.

The ambulance arrives within minutes. Lo’s husband is quickly assessed, his body lifted onto a gurney, and as they push him past me on the landing, I see his face for the first time. And I flinch. He looks like a shell of a man—weak, gray, and hollow. Old. So old. It’s fucking cruel. I brush my palm down my bristle, blinking back my shock.

The paramedics are talking urgently, throwing orders back and forth between each other. Lo doesn’t look at me once, her focus set firmly on her husband. As it should be. I’m desperate to go to her, to hold her and comfort her, but something stops me, and I remain a static, useless form in the hallway of their home as they wheel Billy out. I hear the doors of the ambulance slam, followed by the sound of it driving away, the sirens sounding soon after.

And then it’s just me alone in their home.

I swallow, dipping and collecting my jacket from the floor where Lo dropped it. I look around at my surroundings, seeing pictures hanging on the walls, photo frames set on a side cabinet. I wander over and pick one up, gazing at the man in the picture who looks nothing like the guy who was just carried out on a stretcher. The Billy I just saw looked elderly. Pale and hollow. The man staring back at me looks young, healthy, and delighted. It’s not surprising. I cast my eyes across the picture to the young, beautiful woman cuddled into his side. Her silver eyes are alive and happy. Her smile wide. So damn wide. I’ve had the pleasure of a few smiles like that. But each one was clouded with guilt.

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