thinking she’d almost killed me.
She nodded, fresh tears slipping out of her eyes. “Yes I did. If I had just told you the truth, if we hadn’t had that fight and caused you all that stress.”
I sighed. “Millie, my body has been rejecting the donor heart for weeks. That’s why I started smoking and drinking.” There, I’d said it out loud, something I hadn’t even allowed myself to think about fully until right now. I was too confronted with it. When the doc gave me the test results three weeks ago and told me to up my antirejection medication so that we could try to reverse the damage, I just … ignored him. Blocked it out. Didn’t tell Gran. Went on with life. I was sick of the meds, sick of the pain, sick of living without Jenna and with Wayne instead.
She shook herself. “What?”
I nodded. “Guess it’s just my time to go.” Maybe it was the meds, but I could admit it to myself, finally.
I wanted to die.
I wanted to be with Jenna again, or at least stop being without her. My twin sister being absent from this world was killing me.
Weakness pulled at my limbs. I was tired and this conversation was heavy.
“Don’t say that,” she all but growled, looking horrified.
Her fierce need to make me positive got on my last nerve then. “Millie, I think it’s time you go now. We’ve both come clean with our demons, or secrets, or whatever.”
She frowned like she expected my near-death experience to somehow instill in me a forgiveness for her giant fucking lie.
“Okay … yeah. Your grandma is next door with your dad. I’ll pop over to him—”
“Millie, you don’t get it.” I shook my head. “I think you’re mentally unstable. I don’t want you around me or my family anymore, okay?”
It hurt a little to say it, I didn’t really mean it. I mean she was a little psycho but it was clear to see she was sweet and upset at my medical misfortune, but it felt good right then to take out my pain on her.
Her eyes widened at the words “mentally unstable,” and she reared her head back in shock, sitting up to her full height. “Oh … okay. Goodbye, Ashton.” She said my name with a good amount of bitterness that made me feel better. She was too perfect, too nice, too forgiving, smelled too good, fucked too good, kissed too good, cooked too good. I needed her out of my life. STAT.
Grabbing her purse, she reached the open doorway and looked back at me. “One more thing.” She drummed her nails on the rim of the door; even the hot mess that she was at this moment, she looked beautiful.
I tried to force a scowl, but my eyes crossed; I think that beeping was a morphine pump and I’d just been hit with the good stuff. “What?” I mumbled.
She peered sadly into my eyes with her giant blue puppy dog pout. “I think I’m in love with you.”
A fresh wave of pain squeezed my heart and then sleep took me.
Chapter 17
Millie
Julie and I stayed up all night talking, and crying; she begged me to get on the plane with her. She’d made an earlier flight after Ashton all but kicked her out. He’d asked me to leave too but I didn’t want to just close down the bar for weeks on end while he was sick.
“I can’t let his bar go down. I’m gonna run it just until he gets out of the hospital,” I told her as she got into her taxi.
I’d never forget the look she gave me. It was … like I’d just broken her heart but she was proud of me at the same time. “Oh, Millie, when is someone going to save you?”
When is someone going to save you…? Those words struck me like knives. I didn’t think she’d meant them to, but they did.
Now I sat at the bar, a few minutes before opening, with my head in my hands. How had things gone so wrong so fast? One second Ashton and I are about to have hot bar sex and the next his dad is falling through the window.
Now Wayne needed a liver transplant, Ashton knew my secret and wouldn’t talk to me, and I’d lost the first guy I truly cared about since Colin died.
With a sigh, I reached for a pen and paper, ready to write my last letter to Colin.
Dear Colin,
This will be my last