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“Ugh, I hate you,” she punches me in the back.
“You can hate me all you want back in your room.”
“You take me home, and I’ll just go back out once you leave. Because that’s what you do, right, Wentworth? You fucking leave.”
Her words are filled with anger and something else that sounds a lot like hurt.
“You’re drunk, Jade.”
“Not drunk enough to not know what I’m saying.”
The cold air hits me as we leave the house. I inhale some fresh air, and I walk us to my car. Only then do I let her slide down to the ground. All those lush curves of hers brush against me as I put her on her feet, making me ache in a whole different kind of way.
She’s not yours to have, I chastise myself.You shouldn’t even be doing this.
But there is no way I’ll leave her here like this with a friend who obviously can’t get her home safely, like prey for the vultures—vultures like Manolo and the likes of him.
Jade shoves her hair out of her face and glares at me. “You have no right to manhandle me, Wentworth,” she jabs her finger into my chest. “I already told you; I don’t need you to save me.”
“And I already told you. I’m nobody’s savior.” I pull open the door. “Get in the car, Jade.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m going back inside, where I’m going to get another drink and have fun.”
Jade tries to walk around me, but I step in her way, caging her against my car. “Get in the vehicle, Jade.”
“Why do you even care?” She stomps her foot, and if things were different, I might even find it cute. But there is nothing appealing about this situation we’re in. “Go back and do whatever the hell is that you do, and leave. Me. Alone.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? You didn’t seem to have a problem leaving before.”
And there it is, that tone, the crack in her voice,those words.
“Jade…” I take a step closer, reaching for her face, but she looks away.
“You should leave, Prescott. Things are only going to get worse from here.”
“You don’t…”
“I have cancer, okay?” she snaps, biting the inside of her cheek. “This is my life now. I have cancer, and there is nothing that can change that. So excuse me if I want one last night of fun before my life completely falls apart and I die.”
Her words shouldn’t hurt. After all, it’s not like I didn’t know already, but I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s all one horrible dream, and eventually, I’ll wake up from it, and things will go back to how they were.
Only it’s not.
What she said is true. This is our life now, and every time she says those words, a little part of me dies along with her.
I shake my head. “You’re not dying.”
I’m not accepting that.
Not now, not ever.
Because there can’t be a world in which she isn’t there.
It just can’t.
“I’m dying.” Her palms connect with my chest, pushing me away, or at least trying to, but I wrap my fingers around her wrists and hold her tight. “I’m dying. And there is nothing that anybody can do to stop it.”
