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Malcolm raised a cautionary hand. “No hugging. I’d have to take a swing, and neither of us wants that.”
Trenton snorted, but the trembling in his lips stopped. “I’ll be quick.”
“You’d better be. Or I’ll have another reason to hit you.” Malcolm stepped back, his eyes drawn to where Celia was being pushed away, still on one of those damn hospital beds. She didn’t see them, her eyes focused on her own feet, her face filled with strain.
When left to herself, Celia would only worry more. Unless the doctor had said something.
Trenton watched until she was out of sight, then turned and strode through the automatic doors.
His friend would be okay, Malcolm reminded himself. He had a perfect bedside manner. Trenton had been made to take care of others. He’d been so strong as he’d watched Emily waste away to nothing. It wasn’t until after she was gone that he’d fallen apart.
Losing Celia on top of it would make things so much worse.
Only Celia wasn’t dying; Malcolm reminded himself of that, too, even as his hands clenched. She was just a little rundown. They could fix that.
He walked over to the receptionist, unable to smile, though his tone was pleasant enough as he asked for Celia’s room number. Sharing last names definitely helped. When they’d both turned eighteen, he’d gone with Celia to fill out a living will to make him her executor should she not be able to make her own choices. It had been Celia’s idea. She’d been terrified her genes would make her choose the worst for herself and she’d end up in the hospital again.
As much as Celia said she appreciated what his parents had done for her, she’d known they were no good at taking care of people. No, Malcolm’s parents were way too selfish for that. Celia gave them more credit than they deserved. She didn’t know that it was Malcolm who had forced them to open their home to their niece in her time of need.
If he’d left it up to his parents, Celia would have been sent straight back to her father, to the hell she’d lived in all along. Malcolm’s uncle had been a horrible father, though Celia still claimed he did the best he could with impossible circumstances.
She gave everyone too much lenience. Everyone except for herself.
Besides Malcolm, Trenton had been the only person who had put her first. It was no wonder she’d fallen in love with his friend. Trenton and Celia really were perfect for each other.
And nothing was going to ruin that for them, Malcolm promised himself. His hands had clenched again, though it wasn’t like he could punch life in the face. He’d use his key at the gym to punch some speed bags later. Even Reggie didn’t deserve him when he felt like this.
Instead of going straight to the room, Malcolm lapped the floor, trying to work off his anger. It wasn’t his first visit to a hospital. The first was with Celia when they were younger, then to check in on Trenton during all his wife’s stays, and finally when his sister, Katie, was a patient briefly a few months ago. All his stints in the hospital had been brief, and for other people, so the faint beeping and murmuring voices coming from all the rooms were just background noise. Malcolm didn’t hate hospitals. In fact, he barely minded them.
He nearly collided with another man in a suit. With Trenton, and recently his sister’s boss, Nicholas, Malcolm had been hanging out with too many well-dressed men. The suit in front of him didn’t glance his way, no apology muttered as he strode away down the hall. Just like a suit. Too good to acknowledge someone like Malcolm, with his faded jeans and old sneakers.
Malcolm came up to the room number he’d been given. Celia was already inside, which gave him a twinge of guilt. He’d thought the test would take a little longer. The way she stared straight ahead, as if she wasn’t seeing anything, worried him even more.
“Hey,” he said, keeping his tone even so as not to startle her. It was as if she didn’t hear him.
Her fingers were flicking the rubber band on her wrist over and over again, and her eyes still hadn’t focused.
He moved to her side, putting himself in front of her stare. “Celia?” he asked, his hands closing around hers to stop them. “I’m here.”
When she focused on him, she surprised him by bursting into tears.
He cursed internally as his hands went limp. He wanted to hit himself. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her. “It’s all right, Celia. Everything is going to be all right.”
She shook her head against his shoulder.
Malcolm needed to see her face, tears and all. He pulled back, studying the complete meltdown she was having. “Did the doctor say something to you?”
Her hand went to that rubber band again, this time snapping it hard. It sort of worked, as she was able to suck in a breath and try to calm down. The small emerald glinted on her finger, capturing her attention, and her eyes filled anew. “Why did I think I could do this?” she choked out, starting to slip it off. The ring was a little tight, clinging to her finger.
Malcolm closed his hands around hers again. “Hey now. I need specifics, or I can’t help.” He crouched lower beside the bed, looking up into her face. “What brought this on?”
“I—” Her voice broke as her eyes widened. The tears had left streaks on her face, but it was as if the faucet had been turned off. Her brown eyes seemed to glow instead. “I should tell Trenton first.”
It felt like a slap, one Malcolm tried not to react to as he absorbed the words. She was building a life with Trenton, despite her momentary doubt. It was right that they discuss things first.
But he felt so damn empty when she pulled her hands free.
She looked down at the engagement ring on her finger. “I wish Erin was here,” Celia whispered.
