I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,118

isn’t, Eli and I would never work. We had sex, it doesn’t mean I want more, but there isn’t even a chance I could. I’ve already seen that men are selfish, and I can’t even provide enough attention for a local police lieutenant, there’s no way I can do it for a world renowned actor and singer.

Eli takes another step, his hand gripping the steel separating us. “You said you don’t do this before, well, I don’t chase after girls who run out, so we’re both doing something different. I wanted to talk . . . I wasn’t asking for anything, Heather.”

So, he does know my name, that makes me feel marginally better.

Nicole finally drops down beside me, and tears fill my eyes. I know she sees it. I’m not upset because of him. I’m upset because of me.

“Let’s go.”

She knows me well enough to know I’m in over my head. The reason I’ve never done casual is because I feel too much. I’ve had life-long friendships, one boyfriend who I married, and a sister who needs me—casual doesn’t fit into my life. Now that I’ve come down from the buzz and adrenaline, I feel empty.

I release a heavy breath and shove down my emotions.

“Look. I’m sorry I ran out, but I have to go. I don’t belong here anyway.” I’m not sure what the proper etiquette is for running away from a man you’ve spent your entire adolescent and part of your adult life dreaming of and then slept with, but this seems appropriate. I grab my shoes and start to walk away.

“Heather, wait.” I glance back at him over my shoulder. “I just—”

“Goodbye, Eli.”

There’s no way I’m looking back, because if I do, I might not keep walking.

As we start to sprint, my phone dings with a voice mail. It’s Stephanie’s facility.

With my fingers trembling, I press play. “Hi, Ms. Covey, this is Becca from Breezy Beaches Assisted Living. Stephanie had a . . .” She pauses as if she can’t find the right words. “She’s been transferred via ambulance to Tampa General Hospital. Please call me as soon as you can.”

The tears I fought back fall without a thought. “It’s Steph. We have to run.”

Chapter 5

Heather

“I’m fine,” Stephanie says while swatting my hand away as she lies in the hospital bed.

“If you’d stop fidgeting.”

Her seizure was the worst one yet. Thankfully, there hasn’t been any damage that has manifested, but I’ve refused to leave her side, not even for a second. I hate myself for being at that stupid concert instead of here with her. She’s my entire world.

“Go to work, Heather. I can’t handle you being around me. You’re like a fucking helicopter, always hovering over me. You annoy me.”

One of the worst parts of Huntington’s is the mood swings. Stephanie was a sweet, kind, and happy-go-lucky kid. When she was nineteen, she had her first onset of tremors. Her body would go stiff and she couldn’t move. Immediately, Matt and I took her to the doctor, but they couldn’t find anything.

Then her mood did a complete one-eighty. It was as if someone stole my sister’s identity and replaced it with the angriest person I’d ever met.

“I am going to work today, thank you.”

“Good. Do I go back to Breezy tonight then?”

“Depends what the doctor says.”

According to the neurologist, we can expect her to continue to deteriorate, and she’s at high risk of another seizure that could leave lasting effects. The younger you are when you become symptomatic with Huntington’s the faster things get worse.

“Yet again, I have no say in anything. It’s always you and the doctors. I’m a fucking adult!” She rolls her eyes and turns onto her side.

“I know you are, but yelling at me isn’t going to help.”

My patience with Stephanie is unending, but at times, I lose my cool. Being told how awful, worthless, and depressing I am eventually wears me down. I know it isn’t her. She acts this way because she’s frustrated and in pain, but I still hate it.

However, it was Stephanie who made the decision to move into Breezy Beaches. She knew I couldn’t quit my job to take care of her. I needed to make whatever I could, and a live-in nurse was way over our budget since insurance wouldn’t cover it. She needed around-the-clock care that I could no longer provide.

It was the single most devastating day of my life. I cried harder after dropping her off than I did the night our parents died.

“I