Whatever Tomorrow Brings: Embrace Tomorrow Duet, #2

By Amy Argent

Will Everson is a gifted artist whose life has been shattered by a devastating illness. Will thought he had nothing to live for, then Tori Somerset came along and transformed his world with her vibrance. Tori made it her mission to help Will die at peace, but the two fell in love, and in the midst of a brush with death, Will chose life instead.

 

Conquering his cancer will be the fight of Will's life, and he'll have to depend on Tori every step of the way. Tori and Will decide they can face this together—a choice that will test the strength of their fledgling relationship.  But the decision to fight doesn't come with a guarantee of victory. The road to health and happiness often involves taking one, slow, painful step at a time.  And sometimes that journey leads to even deeper truths.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Turning Tree Press
• Release date: Oct 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736940532

Amy Argent

Amy Argent is an avid reader and writer of contemporary romance.  Amy can honestly say she writes day and night —clinical trial documents as a medical writer by day and contemporary romance as a novelist by night . . . and possibly into the wee hours of the morning.  She has a PhD in Genetics that she agonized entirely too much over, but it did result in a fascinating day job—the details of which tend to creep into her fiction. Amy can be found in Raleigh, North Carolina, with her husband, two teenagers, and two hedgehogs, where she’s most likely planning her next departure from reality —destination: Dragon Con, the closest Renaissance Faire, or the nearest book. Amy has always been fascinated by the many ways people cope with the human condition. Her stories explore the emotional journey we take when adversity drastically changes life’s course, but being an eternal optimist, she’s found her niche in soulful stories with silver linings.  In truth, they can always be found if one is willing to look for them. Visit Amy’s website to find out more about her books at:  www.amyargent.com

Book preview

Prologue

Black painted silhouette of Seattle skyline.

"W ill you stay? At least for a few minutes? You’re the first visitor I’ve had."

Intense green eyes, so warm and yet distant. So alone and vulnerable, yet so resilient and strong.

Can I come back tomorrow?

So many days spent with him, gaining his trust by giving him my own. Telling him my stories. Holding his hand through pain and fear. Falling in love with him a day at a time. A smile at a time.

I’m scared, Tori. Jesus, I’m fucking terrified. This is really going to happen, and I don’t have any control. I don’t know how to deal with this. I feel like I’m falling apart, and there’s nothing left to hold on to.

Hold on to me, sweetheart.

Depression and then resolve. To make peace with the demons from a past full of heartache.

It’s okay, Mom. I’m all right. I’m so glad you could come.

Hope and then disaster.

Do you have pneumonia?

"Bacterial . . . I forget . . . the exact name. Evans asked me . . . if I want them . . . to give me drugs . . . to make me comfortable.

I told him yes. Too much pain. I couldn’t . . . no more.

And then . . . oh God, and then . . .

Tori . . . I love you. There was nothing for me . . . but now . . . there’s so much I want to do . . . so much I want to give to you.

Tori, I want you to go . . . and I don’t want you . . . to come back tomorrow.

And I left.

Code blue, code blue, room four-twelve. Code blue, code blue, room four-twelve.

And he nearly left this world before I could get back to him. Before he could see the truth of what was between us.

They're helping him, Tori! Will lifted his DNR. He's letting them help him to breathe.

And now he’s fighting for his life against pneumonia. But that’s just a consequence of the bigger monster—the cancer that has destroyed his immune system and continues to ruthlessly try to take his life.

Jenny, is there any hope for him? If he recovers from the pneumonia, does he have any options at all for treatment?

"Yes, he has options, Tori. He’s had options all along, and one in particular that could even be a cure.

He can have another round of chemotherapy followed by a stem cell transplant. The regular chemo alone obviously isn’t working for him since the cancer came back twice, but the combination of high-dose chemo with a stem cell transplant has a half-decent rate of success."

He didn’t tell me he had options. I was too afraid of his reaction to tell him I loved him. We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? But now he knows I love him, and now I know the decision he’d been struggling with since he came down with pneumonia. Hell, probably since long before that.

I think that’s why he lifted his DNR. He loves you, and he’s decided to fight—maybe even to go into treatment again. Because he wants to be with you.

Tori, you need to be there for him and help him fight this. When he recovers from the pneumonia, I’m sure you can talk it out. But he needs you right now. If you’re feeling angry—or betrayed—remember that he loves you, and in the end, he chose you.

He chose me.

Will chose me, and he’s fighting for me. He’s fighting for us. And I’m going to help him fight with everything I have.

Chapter 1

Black painted silhouette of Seattle skyline.

Jenny and I are sitting in the waiting room just down the hall from Will.

The room where she brought me after Will coded, and she told me he’d lifted his DNR and they were helping him.

The room where she confessed that she told him I loved him and that he has treatment options.

The room where I went through his sketchbook and felt his love for me radiating from every stroke of his pencil.

She’s been holding me for minutes or hours while I try to put myself together and make some sense of it all. I truly do have the very best friend in the world, and I’m so lucky she was Will’s nurse and that she brought us together.

I owe you—a lot, I whisper, and she just squeezes me tighter.

You don’t owe me anything, and there’s still a long way to go. First, he has to survive the pneumonia before we can get to trying to cure him.

I scrub at my face with my hand, my eyes burning from crying and lack of sleep.

But he’ll be okay, right? I mean, the pneumonia won’t kill him . . .

Jenny just smiles at me sadly. I don’t know, Tori. He’s very sick right now, and it all depends on how bad this gets. If his lungs can’t clear the bacteria . . .

I squeeze my eyes shut and lower my head, unconsciously wrapping my arms further around myself to fend off her words. He’s going to be okay, I say with stubborn determination.

I hope so, for both of you. It’s going to be a little while before you can see him, and they gave him anesthesia before the intubation, so he’s going to be out for the better part of the day. And they’ll be moving him up to the ICU.

My breath catches as panic washes over me again. Oh, Jenny . . .

"Now that he’ll be on the vent for at least a few days, he needs more than we can do for him down here. This doesn’t mean it’s the end, Tori. It’s a good thing, actually, because now that he lifted his DNR, his course of treatment for everything will be more aggressive. They’ll take good care of him, and he’ll be back down here before you know it.

While you’re waiting to see him, I think you should call Jason . . . and his mother. They’ll both want to know he’s taken a turn for the worse. They deserve to know, and I suspect he’d want you to be the one to tell them.

Oh, of . . . of course. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my mind around everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, and suddenly, I feel guilty for not reaching out to either of them after Will told me he’d decided to give in. I was just so lost that it didn’t even occur to me. Shit.

Jenny rubs my back affectionately. Make your calls, and I’ll go check on Will for you.

I nod as she stands.

I’ll come right back and let you know, she says, smiling at me.

I manage a small smile in return, but as she leaves, I let my head fall into my hand. Now I have to explain all this to the only two people Will’s allowed to care for him other than me: his mother and his best friend.

I call Jason but I get his voicemail. I don’t want to explain everything in a message, so I just say Will has gotten worse, and he should come to see him as soon as he can.

I dial Elizabeth’s number, and she picks up on the second ring.

Tori? Is everything okay? There’s panic in her voice—she knows I wouldn’t call unless something bad had happened.

Hi, Elizabeth. Things aren’t as okay as they were. Will came down with pneumonia this week.

Oh my God, is he all right?

He’s . . . all right for now. I take a shaky breath. His lung collapsed this morning, and they had to put him on a ventilator to help him breathe. They’re moving him up to the ICU now.

Oh! She gasps. I-I’ll come. I’ll be on a flight tomorrow morning. Can you recommend a hotel nearby?

You’re welcome to stay with me, or you can stay at Will’s place. I know he was planning to ask you to stay there when you came up to visit, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.

There’s a pause. I . . . feel strange about intruding into his life that much without his knowing. If you’re sure it’s no trouble, I’d be happy to stay with you.

I understand, and it’s no trouble at all, I say, a bit relieved. I’m sure Will wouldn’t really mind, but I know he’s very particular about his things. Text me your flight information, and I’ll pick you up from the airport tomorrow.

Thank you, Tori, she says tearfully. If you get the chance to talk to him, tell him I love him.

Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.

I hang up the phone and collapse back into my chair. It’s nearly nine in the morning now, so I call the psychology clinic receptionist and ask her to reschedule all my appointments for the rest of the week. I have no intention of leaving Will’s side, much less going back to work, until he’s over this.

By the time I’m finished, Jenny is back.

Hey, sweetie. How are you holding up?

I sigh heavily. I’m okay. Elizabeth is coming tomorrow, and I left a message for Jason. How’s Will?

He’s . . . holding on, Jenny says, and my heart flies into my throat.

They’ve drained the fluid from his abdomen and put in a chest tube to drain the air and infected fluid from around his lungs. It’ll take a few days to clear it all, so when you see him, you’ll notice the tube is still in place. And they have him hooked up to the vent. His respirations are good right now, but his fever is very high.

I nod numbly as the reality of how very sick Will is crashes down around me. I need to see him. Now.

Can I see him, Jenny?

Transport took him up about fifteen minutes ago, so they should have him just about settled by now. Come on, I’ll walk you up there.

Jenny puts her arm around me, and we go up to the sixth floor together. As we get off the elevator, I’m struck by how very quiet it is, and I’m instantly reminded of a few of the patients I befriended who died in the ICU. I shake my head firmly. I am not going to think about death today.

When we arrive at Will’s door, Jenny pauses and looks back at me. Remember, be strong, Tori. In the ICU, patients often look worse than they actually are.

I swallow thickly, then follow her in.

I look at the floor and keep my eyes there until we get to the side of his bed. I’m afraid of what I’ll see, but I have to be strong for him. Taking a deep breath, I raise my eyes slowly, but all my air is stolen the minute my gaze falls on him.

He looks absolutely awful. His eyes are closed, but the shadows underneath are dark, making them appear sunken and hollow. His cheeks are ruddy, but the color is too red to be healthy. Sweat is beaded on his forehead, and I realize what’s missing is his restless motion. When Will is feverish, he’s constantly moving, but he’s eerily motionless right now because he’s still under the effects of general anesthesia.

They’ve removed the NG tube from his nose, and white tape goes across his face just below there, holding the tube coming out of his mouth in place. I can hear the positive force of the machine as it forces air into his lungs, and the mere thought that he can’t breathe on his own right now almost brings me to my knees.

I take the last few steps to the bed unsteadily. Oh, sweetheart, I whisper, my voice breaking.

Jenny takes my elbow and guides me into the chair she’s placed behind me, and I sit, unable to take my eyes off him. The shock of it will wear off. You know it’s not as bad as it looks, and he’s in there, fighting. I’ll give you two some time alone. You know where to find me.

She backs out of the room, but I still can’t take my eyes off Will’s face. He looks so . . . different now that he’s not able to smile at me, and I can’t see the pout of his lips that always defines his sleep. Now, he truly looks like a cancer patient, and a terminal one at that.

In the blink of an eye, I’m sitting on the side of his bed, but as I reach forward to run my fingers into his hair, I notice he’s shirtless. His blanket is pulled up to his chest, but his bare arms are resting on top of it, making the bright red rash that covers them and the scabs where he’s scratched his skin raw clearly visible as well as the swollen lymph nodes under his arms. I gasp softly as I take in the damage this disease has done to him. I’m sure they took his nightshirt off because of all the procedures they did this morning, but he wouldn’t be happy about being so exposed. I’ll have to talk to his nurse to see what we can do to cover him up so he doesn’t wake up like this.

I also notice his left arm is pulled away from his body. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I lift his arm gently, pulling the blanket down and away from his torso. A large tube protrudes from his side, gauze and tape surrounding it and holding it in place. The tube goes to a drainage unit attached to the bottom of the bed, and I turn my head away, trying to block out the rest of what I see. This is what’s going to save his life, but I can barely stand the sight of it. I carefully put his blanket back in place. My hand finally makes it to his hair, brushing it away from his face.

"Will, I’m so sorry! I came as fast as I could, but I didn’t make it! I should have come earlier. I should have known this would happen, and I should have given in and come. I hope you know I’m here, and I’m fighting for you too. I’m going to stay right here until you’re better. I promise.

"What you did today . . . I had no idea what you’d been fighting, the decision you were trying to make. And last night, I thought the fight was lost, but you changed your mind, and you chose me—chose us. I can’t wait to tell you I love you, too.

"I love you, Will, with my whole heart and soul, and I would do anything for you. And I’ll do anything I can to help you fight this so you can get better, and we can be together.

So, you just hang on, I tell him, my voice breaking. You hang on and outlast this infection, and we’ll find a way to get you better.

I must have fallen asleep because I’m startled awake when the door squeaks, announcing the arrival of Dr. Evans.

He smiles at me, then addresses Will. Hello, Will. How are we doing? he asks, pulling a mini iPad out of his pocket as he checks Will’s IV and the readout on the ventilator. Then he puts a hand on Will’s forehead and reaches across the bed and gently takes Will’s hand, putting two fingers over Will’s pulse point and watching the clock for a few minutes. He puts Will’s hand down and makes a few more notes on his device. Then he turns to face me.

Hello, Tori.

Hi, Dr. Evans.

The silence is ominous for a moment, but Dr. Evans doesn’t let it grow. I’m here to talk to you about Will’s condition, he says, his eyes focused intently on me.

But . . . I’m not Will’s family. Don’t the privacy laws prevent you from telling me anything? I ask, thinking back to everything Jenny had to do to try to help us without losing her job.

Actually, in this case, they don’t. This morning, Will gave you medical power of attorney for his healthcare decisions.

I gasp, all the air leaving my lungs in a sudden whoosh. H-he . . . he did what?

He granted you the right to make decisions for him in the event that he couldn’t, which is a very good thing because at the moment, he’s not capable of deciding anything, Dr. Evans says matter-of-factly.

Will put me in charge of his medical decisions. He put his life in my hands, and he’s trusting me to do what he would want with it. He trusts me. I mean, I always knew he did on some level, but this? This is the ultimate. The tears well up and spill over—I’m so touched by what this says I am to him, but at the same time, I’m horrified that it’s necessary.

Are you willing to take on this responsibility?

Of . . . of course. I didn’t know he’d done that. He was pretty busy this morning before his lung collapsed, wasn’t he?

Dr. Evans nods. Yes, he was, and it’s a good thing, too. I didn’t want to see him die that way. Not when he has other options.

Right away, I think of what Jenny told me about Will’s treatment options, but I don’t ask about it. Until he recovers from the pneumonia, it doesn’t matter anyway.

I’m glad too.

But let’s focus on the present. Will’s lung has re-inflated with the help of the chest tube, and his breathing is stable right now, and that’s good. We drained the abdominal fluid and the air and fluid from his chest, and we left the chest tube in place to continue to drain the infection as the pneumonia runs its course. My concern right now is his fever. His temperature has been hovering around one-oh-four for almost forty-eight hours now, and that’s dangerously high, especially given his weakened condition. We’re doing what we can to lower it, but if we can’t get it down, it may be only a matter of time until his organs begin to fail. We’ll be keeping a close eye on him, but I think the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be critical.

I draw in a rapid breath as panic and fear spike through me, and I cover my mouth with my hand.

Now, calm down, Dr. Evans says soothingly. "This is just what I’m concerned about. It doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. I just wanted you to be aware of what could happen.

I have faith in him, though. Will has been fighting this disease for more than two years now, and he’s tough. You should have faith in him too.

My eyes meet Dr. Evans’ reassuring smile, but then they turn to Will. In my eyes, he’s as handsome as he ever was, and my mind goes back through all the weeks I’ve known him, cataloguing his strength, his sweetness, and his incredible talent. And then I think back over all the things he’s been through and come out okay on the other side.

I reach over and take Will’s hand as I look back at Dr. Evans. Yes, I have faith in him. He’s going to be fine.

That’s the spirit! Dr. Evans says, giving me another warm smile. I’ll come by to see him every day about this time unless something happens, and I need to come sooner. Hopefully, within a day or two, he’ll turn the corner and be on his way to recovery. Please don’t hesitate to contact me through the nurses if you have any questions.

Dr. Evans turns to Will and puts a hand on his arm. I’ll see you tomorrow, Will. Be strong.

Thank you, Dr. Evans. He smiles over his shoulder as he leaves the room.

I lean over Will to kiss him on the cheek, but the minute I close my eyes, a wave of dizziness hits me. It’s been more than twenty-four hours since I got any real sleep, and on Monday night I only got a few hours because I was so worried about him.

I grab on to the mattress beside Will’s head to steady myself, and when I open my eyes, the spinning stops. I need to take care of myself so I can be there for him when he needs me, but there’s no way I’m leaving his side. So I sit back down and rest my head on the mattress beside him.

I bolt up into a sitting position. We’re not alone in the room. Will’s ICU nurse is standing on the other side of his bed, fiddling with his IV. I glance at the clock on the wall—it’s nearly six in the evening. From there my eyes flick to Will. His eyes are still closed, but he’s moving his head from side to side restlessly. The tube from the ventilator prevents him from moving much, but he’s closer to consciousness than he’s been all day.

The nurse glances over at me and smiles kindly. His fever is still very high, but his breathing is stable. Are you planning to stay with him?

Yes, please, I tell her, hoping like hell she’s not about to tell me I can’t because I’m not family.

That’s fine. I spoke with Jenny, so I know he doesn’t have any family here, and it’s obvious how much you care about him.

Thank you, Miss . . . ?

Laura. I’m here to make things as easy for Will, and for you, as possible. So please, tell me when you need anything.

Thank you so much, Laura.

The minute the door closes, I’m perched on the edge of Will’s bed, one hand in his hair and the other holding his. He’s radiating heat, just like he has been for two days now, and it’s scaring the hell out of me. Oh God, I hope the fever gives out before his body does.

Hi, sweetheart. Today has been a long and tiring day, but I know mine hasn’t been as bad as yours has. Your fever is still so high. You have to beat this, okay? You have to come back to me because we have so much to talk about. There are so many things I want to share with you.

As I’m talking, his eyes open, and my heart stutters as I see my favorite green. Even fever-bright and vacant, it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. He’s watching me, but it’s taking him a lot of effort, so I waste no time.

I love you. I love you so much, and I miss talking to you. I miss your voice and your touch on my skin. I miss you teasing me, and I miss your smile, and I miss your kisses. Oh God, you kiss better than anyone I’ve ever known, and I can’t get enough of you. I need you to get better so we can do all those things again. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone. We need each other. I love you, Will.

His brow wrinkles a little, and suddenly, I feel his fingers squeezing mine. I smile and laugh as tears flow down my face.

There you are! I feel you squeezing my hand. I love you, and I’m going to be right here until you’re better. Jason and your mom and I, we’re all going to be right here. Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.

The pressure on my hand slowly eases, and his eyes fall closed as he surrenders to sleep. But he responded. I know he did. He’s in there, and he’s fighting because he wants to be with me.

Chapter 2

Black painted silhouette of Seattle skyline.

Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were as long as Wednesday was, and Will’s fever raged on, showing no signs of breaking. Elizabeth, Jason, and I sat with him all day those days, taking breaks as we needed them and talking to Will when his eyes were open. He didn’t respond by squeezing anyone’s hand like he did for me on Wednesday night, which has me wondering if I didn’t just imagine it. I miss him terribly. He’s right in front of me, but he’s not really here. As I wipe him down for what feels like the thousandth time, I have to remind myself how vibrant and expressive he is when he’s awake because it feels like ages since we were together. It’s been a long five days.

It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m alone with Will. He’s very still right now. He hasn’t seemed conscious since early this morning, and his restlessness due to the fever seems to be decreasing. I don’t think that’s a good sign.

Sighing, I lay my head on my arm wearily. I’m exhausted. The constant worry for Will and lack of restful sleep is taking its toll on me, and I nod off next to him.

I startle awake, nearly falling out of my chair as I try to figure out where I am and what’s going on. An urgent beeping sound fills the room, and my eyes widen. Something is wrong with Will. I hit the call button lying on the bed next to him, but before I can even stand up to go find someone, Laura and another nurse are bustling into the room.

Laura goes straight for Will, and I stand quickly, moving my chair back and out of the way. She unhooks the ventilator tube and attaches a hand-ventilation bag in its place. She begins bagging Will, while the other nurse checks the display on the vent.

Low pressure alarm, no other indicators.

I’m hitting mild resistance, Laura says, as she bags Will with one hand while checking the ventilator tubing with the other. Suddenly, she disconnects the bag and watches Will’s breathing.

No auto-PEEP; I’m going to reconnect, Laura tells the other nurse. She hooks Will back up to the ventilator, and on his first breath, the alarm goes off again. This time his eyes flutter open, and my heart stops.

Something’s not right here, Laura says. Let’s—

L-Laura, I say, my voice shaking with panic.

She stops and turns in my direction, her eyes widening. L-Laura, his eyes . . . I stutter, and she quickly turns to look at Will.

His eyes are barely open, but it’s enough to see that the whites of his eyes aren’t white but a sickly yellow color.

Dammit! Lisa, I need you to get Evans up here right away, and set up for a portable chest x-ray and labs for liver function.

Lisa switches off the ventilator alarm and hurries to comply with Laura’s instructions.

I’m still standing behind Laura, trying to get ahold of myself enough to ask what’s going on. Before I can manage it, she turns to me, smiling sadly.

Tori, I’m going to need to ask you to step out for a little bit while we try to sort this out.

O-okay. What’s going on?

Well, we don’t really know, but he’s having trouble breathing right now even with the vent, and as you pointed out, he’s jaundiced.

That happens when your liver isn’t working right, doesn’t it?

Yes, Laura says, nodding. So we need to run some tests to figure out what’s going on. I have your cell number so I can call you when we’re finished, or if you want to wait in the waiting room at the end of the hall, I can come get you there.

I’ll go to the waiting room. I don’t want to go too far.

Laura puts her hand on my arm and squeezes. This isn’t the end. I’m sure of it. We’ll get him sorted out.

I nod and slowly back out of the room. The last thing I see is Will’s face—his eyes are closed again, and it looks like he’s sleeping. Please, God, don’t let this be the last time I see him!

I’m halfway down the hall when I hear my name.

Tori?

It’s Elizabeth. She freezes when she sees the look on my face and nearly drops the coffees she’s carrying.

Oh my God, did something happen? Is . . . is . . .

No, no he’s not, I tell her quickly. But we can’t be in his room right now.

I take her elbow and lead her down to the waiting room, and while we sit, I tell her what happened. So Laura is going to come down here when they’re finished and tell us what’s going on.

Do you think his body is giving up? That his lungs and liver are failing?

I don’t know, I tell her shakily.

I call Jason, but it goes to voicemail, so I leave him a message telling him to come as soon as possible. Elizabeth and I sit and hold on to each other, and I do my very best not to consciously think about anything. I just imagine sending all my strength and love to Will and plead with him to stay with me.

After what seems like an eternity, Dr. Evans walks into the waiting room. My heart leaps into my throat, and although my knees feel weak, Elizabeth and I are on our feet instantly. Dr. Evans holds his hands up to calm us.

It’s all right, ladies. Will’s fine at the moment. Please sit and I’ll fill you in.

I draw in a deep, shaky breath and sit back down. I lean forward, my elbows on my knees and my hands balled together as I stare at him, trying to read his mind because he can’t tell me what’s going on fast enough.

Just then, the door to the waiting room flies open, revealing a panic-stricken Jason. Before he can get a word out, I fly across the room and throw my arms around him.

It’s okay; he’s still alive. But he got a bit worse, and Dr. Evans is here to tell us what’s going on. Come sit with us; I’ll fill you in on what happened later.

Dr. Evans looks at Jason and nods. It’s good to see you again, Jason. I had wondered if you were still supporting Will.

Jason inclines his head. Yes, sir, as much as he’ll let me.

Dr. Evans smirks, and it breaks the tension in the room because we all know how stubborn Will can be. Each of us knows, loves, and understands Will and would do anything to get him well. At this moment, the bond between us is powerful. I hope it’s enough to see Will through this.

Dr. Evans gestures for Jason to take a seat. Will is stable right now, but I have some not so good news. Will is jaundiced, which tells us his liver isn’t functioning properly. We did an ultrasound; his liver is still swollen and inflamed due to the cancer, and I suspect his high fever has put additional strain on it. We don’t have his blood work back yet, but I think it will confirm that he’s in the early stages of liver failure.

There’s a collective gasp in the room.

"Now this doesn’t mean his liver will fail; it just means that right now, his liver is having trouble doing its job. I’m hopeful if his fever goes down, his liver function will return to normal, but we’ll just have to wait and see.

I wish I had better news for you, but I still have faith he can make it through this. You can go and see him now. I’ll be back in a few hours with his lab results, and I’ll be keeping a closer eye on him until he improves.

Dr. Evans’ statement of until he improves and not if he improves is not lost on me, and it gives me some comfort. He really believes Will can recover from this.

Thank you, Dr. Evans, I tell him, the first one of us to find their voice.

Dr. Evans nods and leaves the room.

Silence falls, and the three of us just stare at each other.

He’s going to make it, I say confidently, and I stand on wobbly legs, holding on to the chair for support.

Jason smiles and puts his arm around me, offering his other hand to Elizabeth to help her out of her chair. Come on, let’s go see him.

We make our way down the hall and back into Will’s room. Right away, the yellow tinge of his skin strikes me, and I wonder how I didn’t see it before. The change must have been so gradual that I didn’t notice.

Jason and Elizabeth rush right over to Will, but I’m . . . disjointed. I need to talk to him—to be alone with him, and I won’t have that opportunity until this evening when Jason and Elizabeth leave, so I give them the time to be with him now. I sit on the couch, and my exhaustion must have overtaken me because the next thing I know, Jason is shaking me.

Tori, wake up. It’s seven, and Elizabeth and I thought you should get some dinner before we go.

Thanks. How’s Will?

No change. Dr. Evans came by and confirmed the results of the liver tests, but he said they aren’t as bad as they could be. He said we just have to wait and see.

I drag a hand over my face and glance at Will. Elizabeth is sitting in my usual chair, holding his hand between hers. I don’t look too closely because I know if I do, I’ll have to go to him, and all the words will spill out of my mouth, but I don’t want to do that in front of Jason and Elizabeth. I need to tell him so many things, in case . . .

Jason offers to run out and pick up dinner for me before he leaves, but I decline, instead opting to get a sandwich in the cafeteria.

Jason and Elizabeth say their goodbyes to me, telling me they’ll be back in the morning and giving me concerned looks. But they don’t say anything. The strain of watching Will slowly get worse is wearing on all of us, and I see fear in their eyes as they tell him goodbye for the night. Elizabeth kisses him tenderly on the forehead, and I have to turn away so she doesn’t see my tears. I know they’re both wondering how many more days we have. Hell, the thought has crossed my mind more than once even though I promised myself I wouldn’t think that way. But things look different after long days, and right now, I’m feeling like this is bigger than Will—bigger than all of us.

Finally, I’m alone with him. The door closes on Jason and Elizabeth, and I wearily turn to face the man I love. His forehead is sweaty, so my detour to his bathroom is automatic—wet the cloth, wring it out, fold it in half, and then again. I hope my efforts to cool him down comfort him. Sometimes, I think their only purpose might be to comfort me.

I wipe across his forehead, refold the cloth, press gently on his neck, one side at a time, then up to his cheeks. It’s become a