I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,197

pushed myself.”

“What happened?” I ask, but the nurse enters.

“Hi, Mr. Walsh, I’m your nurse, Shera,” she smiles. “I’m going to start the Solu-Medrol in the IV, and then I’ll take your vitals again.”

“Thank you,” he says.

I know that drug.

I don’t know why, but I swear I’ve heard it before.

I rack my brain to remember why the hell it sounds so familiar.

Then it hits me.

Solu-Medrol is what they gave Stephanie when her nerve pain flared. It’s a drug she had several times to reduce the inflammation, and it’s only used for severe conditions.

My eyes meet Eli’s, and the floor drops out from beneath me.

Chapter 25

Eli

I see the storms roll through her brown eyes. I watch the confliction without saying a word. There’s nothing I’m going to be able to say to explain this.

I’ve been lying to her.

The nurse takes her time as the tension fills the room. I almost want her to stay, any second to prolong the inevitable, I’ll take.

There were so many times I could’ve said something. Randy laid into me pretty hard, and I deserved every word.

He has no idea the guilt I’ve felt for keeping my illness from her. The nights I lie awake with her in my arms, hating myself because I’m a pussy and couldn’t let her go. I’m a selfish prick. I know this, but for the first time, I didn’t care.

“All right, I’ll be back to check on you in an hour,” Shera explains and pats my arm. “I’m a big fan, Mr. Walsh. We’ll take good care of you.”

The knot in my throat doesn’t allow me to speak. My gaze turns back to Heather, and I wait.

A single tear rolls down her perfect cheek. I watch as it lands on her lips, ones I know I’ll never feel again, and my heart breaks. I wonder if this could’ve been different. If I’d told her I was sick, would she have stayed? I’ll never know.

“You’re sick.” Her soft voice is filled with pain.

“Yes.”

Heather’s hands shake as she tries to wipe her face. “Do you have Huntington’s disease?”

“No, I have relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis.”

Her lips part, and I watch her face fall. Fear beams from her eyes before another tear descends. “Are—” She clears her throat. “Are you okay?”

Agony like I’ve never felt before spreads through my body. Not because I’m actually in pain, but because even though she knows I’ve been hiding my condition, she’s still worried about me.

I’m a fucking piece of shit.

I don’t deserve her.

“I haven’t been symptomatic in a while. I usually take medication that helps keep things under control.”

She nods slowly while twisting her hands. “I see. And you’re not taking them now?”

I’ve been reckless with my body the last few months. On tour, I didn’t take the infusions regularly. Then I met Heather, and I thought I could be free for a little while. I didn’t know we’d have something like this. Yes, I had feelings for her, but I truly thought they would fade, not intensify. My time with Heather has been the first time I felt warmth in my life, and I know the darkness will be that much deeper when she leaves.

“Not like I should.”

Her gaze moves to where her hands are laced tightly together in her lap. “Okay. How long have you known you have MS?”

Her calm tone scares me more than if she were yelling.

“I had my first symptom ten years ago.”

“Right. Ten years.”

There’s no anger in her voice, only resignation. She keeps her eyes down, leaving me no indication of what she’s thinking. She has no idea how much guilt I’ve grappled with. But my need for her won out. Self-preservation came before anything else. I had to have her. I needed to keep her.

“I wanted to tell you,” I admit.

“But you didn’t.”

Because I’m a fucking pussy. “I couldn’t.”

Her eyes lift, a mix of hurt and anger fill her gaze. “And you thought lying to me about it was the better option?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I tried, but I couldn’t do it.”

She clutches her stomach and drops her head.

My chest aches and dread spreads through me. She’s going to leave, just like Penelope. As soon as she found out I wasn’t the perfect man, that I was damaged, she took off. When Heather returns her gaze to me, I see the same goodbye in her eyes, exactly like all those years ago.

“You kept the fact that you were sick from me. You . . . hid this.” She chokes on the words. “Even