Need Me - M. Malone Page 0,34
to my little emotional breakdown so I just nod.
“Then I’m here for you, too.”
After signing in at the reception desk, I take the clipboard filled with forms the office seems to need signed every time I come here.
Vin sits next to me. As usual he’s dressed in a designer suit and looks completely out of place in regular life, like a prince amongst commoners. Especially right next to my leggings and T-shirt. His foot taps a steady rhythm on the carpet, scratching the rough fibers.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
His features are tight, the line between his eyes more prominent.
I know that intense look. He’s worried about me. The lump that’s been in my stomach loosens a little bit. I still can’t believe he’s here. He arrived just in the nick of time, knight in shining armor style.
“This is actually one of the hardest parts.”
His foot stops moving. “What?”
I motion around the room. “The waiting part. Sitting here with nothing to do but think about potential bad outcomes.”
He grabs my hand and his thumb moves back and forth over my knuckle.
“Tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do. I want to do the right thing.”
Hearing him so unsure actually warms my heart. I squeeze his hand back.
“You are doing the right thing. You’re here.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “Good. Because I have never felt so helpless in my life.”
We sit in silence while I initial the forms in various places. Then after I give all the information back to the nurse at the desk, I take my seat. There are a few other people waiting, an elderly couple sitting in the corner, a guy who looks about my age and even a pregnant woman. I take a deep breath.
God, cancer really is a bitch.
“Tell me something,” I whisper.
His presence has calmed me a lot but I can feel the panic hovering just beneath the surface. At any moment, they’re going to call my name and I’m going to have to go back there alone. This is as far as Vin can go. I’m not ready for him to see me in a medical gown.
Just no. I wish I didn’t have to see it either.
“Like what,” he whispers back, way too loudly.
“Anything. I just need to take my mind off what’s about to happen.”
“Okay. Um… I told my assistant that box of dicks you sent was a modern art display from Europe.”
What the hell? I turn to look at him. So does the pregnant woman who is close enough to overhear. My lips clamp together to hold in a giggle.
“Okay that definitely worked.”
“Now you tell me something,” he whispers, still loud as hell.
I lean over and kiss his cheek, drawing in the scent of Vin and comfort. Hopefully it’ll be enough to keep me going.
“I’m glad you’re such a stalker.”
His eyes shine. “Anytime, baby.”
“Ariana Silva?” A nurse wearing pink scrubs looks around the room expectantly.
“That’s my cue.” I grab my purse.
When Vin starts to stand up, I put a hand on his arm.
“Could you wait for me? Actually, it’s probably going to take a long time. I mean, you can leave really. I’m okay now.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll be right here waiting for you when you come out.”
“Are you sure?” I feel kind of bad that he’ll be sitting here in this depressing waiting room with nothing but expired magazines to keep him company.
But that look is back in his eyes again, the one that says he’s not going to back down.
“What did I tell you outside? When you need me, I’m here.”
14
The waiting room is quiet. I sit in a rigid chair next to a stack of magazines with my eyes glued to the door that just closed behind Ariana.
On the outside, I’m the picture of calm. That’s what she needed from me so that’s what I managed to give her. Inside is another story.
It was unsettling to see this new side of her. This soft-spoken, unsure, scared version of Ariana. It physically hurt to see my beautiful girl sitting on that bench looking so defeated. If I could I would slay dragons to protect her.
But I can’t save her from this.
Everything makes sense now. All of it. The crazy shit she does to push me away. The longing I see in her eyes while she watches her friends with their partners. She doesn’t think she’ll get to have that because she won’t be here long enough.
And she might be right.
I run a hand over my face.
My emotions do not