It hurt to move. It hurt to sit. It hurt to lie down. It hurt to sleep. It hurt to breathe.
And every day, it hurt worse.
I wasn’t bleeding, my skin wasn’t ripping open, my hair wasn’t falling out.
But I was dying. Dying inside, I could feel it.
Slowly, I walked through the bathroom, opened the door then walked out the door, through the bedroom and into my living room. I heard the murmuring voices and stopped, leaning against the wall to hold myself up. Then I listened.
“I’m worried,” Mom whispered.
“Me too,” Phoebe whispered back. “It gets worse every day.”
“Is she taking her vitamins?” Dad asked as if vitamins would help with this.
“I don’t know. She picked up the prescription the doctor gave her when he confirmed her pregnancy. I took her to get them myself. But I don’t know if she’s taking them.” Mom said.
“One of us should stay with her all the time,” Dad stated. “Make sure she’s taking her vitamins. Make sure she’s sleeping. Make sure she’s eating.”
“Agreed,” Phoebe said instantly. “I can move in, sleep here at night.”
“I can take the days,” Mom added.
“We’ll do weekends, Phoebe, give you a break,” Dad told my friend and I closed my eyes again.
I couldn’t endure another weekend without Tor. I didn’t know if I could endure another second without him much less another whole week.
“She has that other Cora’s money, Phoebe,” Dad went on. “But Dara and I saved twenty-five grand for Cora’s wedding. You, Harold and Marlene find someone who knows something, who can help and they won’t do it without getting paid, you need it, you add that, you hear?”
I opened my eyes.
My Dad. God, he was such a great, freaking guy.
And twenty-five grand for my wedding? That was way cool and that would have given me a kickass wedding, what he knew I always wanted.
Yeah, my Dad was a great, freaking guy.
“Yeah, Forrest,” Phoebe whispered.
There was silence then from Mom, her voice dripping with concern, “If she’s going through this, what’s Tor going through?”
I twisted my neck to press my cheek against the wall.
The very thought of that hurt too because I knew he was experiencing the same thing. My mighty warrior prince, struck low with this hideous pain. No one could endure this, no one, not even him.
And certainly not me.
“She told me she holds half his soul and he’s feeling the same as she is,” Phoebe answered my Mom.
“God, that man, I can’t imagine –” Mom whispered.
“Don’t,” my father cut in. “Only imagine a solution to this problem. Phoebe and her friends will find a way. Negative thinking never helped anything.”
“You’re right, my love,” Mom whispered.
“I know, my love,” Dad whispered back.
My love.