“You should really go home. I’m not very good company right now,” he replies, resting the back of his head against the bathroom cabinet.
“I’m staying,” I say, grabbing the washcloth to put cool water on it again.
“I’ll make you a deal. Wait outside while I take a shower, and when I’m done you can tuck me in. I think I just need to sleep it off anyway,” he says, slowly standing to face me. He looks horrible; his skin is white and clammy, his eyes are bloodshot, and the hair that lines his face is drenched in sweat.
I lightly dab the washcloth across his forehead and cheeks again. “Do you need help getting in the shower?”
“Any other time I’d take you up on that, but I just want to get in and get out. Why don’t you wait in my room and I’ll be right out.”
“Okay, but leave the door unlocked in case you need me,” I say, running my fingers along his cheek. I’ve needed Asher so much, and now he definitely needs me.
I pace around his room, waiting for him to get out of the shower. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to talk him into letting me stay here, at least until his dad gets home. I hate the thought of him being alone when he’s obviously very sick. He’s strong, I know that, but sometimes even strong people need someone to take care of them.
I’ve been in his room at the lake house several times, but this is only the second time I’ve been in the bedroom at his dad’s house. It’s very plain which I guess I’d expect since he hasn’t been here long and wasn’t here much before. The one thing that catches my eye is the photo of him with his mom and sister that sits on the table beside his bed. His mom has chin length blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes, while his sister has a head of red curls. They’re standing outside with their arms wrapped around each other, looking happy and carefree. I can’t imagine leaving that behind. He obviously cares deeply for them if he has this picture right next to his bed. I wish I understood why he won’t talk about them more.
The bathroom door opens, startling my attention away from the photo. Asher walks in with black sweat pants and a long sleeved grey t-shirt. He still looks pale, but he’s washed away the other remnants of sickness. His blonde hair is wet and spiked going in every which way.
“Ready for bed?” I ask, giving him a small smile.
“Yeah, bed sounds nice right now,” he replies, walking to me slowly. He rests his hands on my h*ps and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers against my ear.
I pull back his hunter green comforter and wait for him to crawl in. “Let me stay with you for a while, please. At least until your dad gets home.”
He nods once and scoots to the side of his bed. I didn’t necessarily mean I wanted to take half of his bed, but if that’s what he’s offering I’m not going to say no. As soon as I’m tucked in next to him, he presses his body to mine and folds himself around me. It’s not long before we are both drifting off to sleep.
When I wake up from my nap, I’m still snuggled tight next to Asher. I don’t want to wake him, so I slowly loosen his grip and slide off the side of the bed. He looks so peaceful, and I can’t help but softly place a kiss on his forehead before I leave.
As I am walking out, I see his dad sitting at the dining room table. His head is turned toward me, and his lips are pressed together in a pensive line. He opens his mouth but then quickly closes it again.
“Asher wasn’t feeling good, but he’s sleeping now,” I tell him as I fidget with the rings on my fingers.
He nods and turns his attention back to the sandwich in front of him. I watch as he places his head in his hands; his shoulders began to shake.
“Are you okay?” I ask hesitantly, not sure if he knows I’m still standing here.
He startles, looking up at me with wistful eyes. “I’ll be fine. I just have a lot on my mind.” He uses the back of his hands to wipe his eyes.
“If you need anything, call me.” As I show myself out the door, I feel guilty . . . maybe I should stay and make sure they’re okay. Maybe I should have asked Daniel what is going on between them.
It takes me awhile to get the ice scraped off my car. When I finally get home, I crawl into bed and try to read, but all I can think about is Asher. My mind keeps drifting to him until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.
I haven’t heard from Asher at all since I left him in bed. I did text him during to see if he is feeling better, but I’ve heard nothing back. I can’t shake this feeling inside . . . the feeling that something is really wrong.
After I start my car to warm it up, I pull out my phone and dial his number. It rings several times before a voice that doesn’t sound quite like Asher picks it up. “Hello.”
“Asher? Are you okay?”
“No, this is his dad.” Why would his dad be answering his phone?
“Is Asher there? I just wanted to ask how he’s feeling,” I ask, nervously biting my lip.
I hear him sigh heavily, and the phone goes silent for several seconds before he speaks again. “Kate, Asher’s in the hospital,” he says softly.
“What? Why didn’t you call me?” Panic shoots through me like a rocket as I grip the steering wheel tight with my free hand.
“I’m sorry. It was a rough morning and knowing my son, he probably doesn’t want you to see him this way.”
“I don’t care if he wants me there or not. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“I can’t stop you,” he sighs, “but, Kate, you need to be prepared. He’s not in very good shape.”
I close my eyes tight and pull in all the air that I can through my nose. “I’ll be there soon.”
I drive home and change as quickly as I can before hopping back in the car. Please just let him be all right.
Chapter 20
THE SECOND THE HOSPITAL DOORS OPEN, I’m greeted by the sterile hospital smell I despise and the white floors that I hate so much. I was here when I broke my arm in the third grade, and then again when I had to have my appendix out right after sixth grade. It’s not a place I associate with happiness, and it’s certainly not a place I like to visit if I don’t have to, but Asher needs me. I walk up to the small reception desk that sits right in front of the door and wait for the receptionist to acknowledge my presence.
“Can I help you?” she finally asks, looking up at me with an annoyed expression.
“Yeah, I’m looking for Asher Hunt,” I say, tapping my fingers on the top of her desk.
“Are you family?”
“No, well kind of. I’m his girlfriend.”
“Name?”
“Kate Alexander.”
She types something in the computer and shakes her head. “I’m sorry Miss Alexander, but you’re not on this visitors’ list.”
“His father knows I’m coming. I just spoke to him on the phone.” My voice is loud, but I could care less right now.
She presses her lips together in a straight line and leans in closer to me. “Take a seat and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
I sit on the edge of the seat closest to her desk and nervously play with the strap on my purse. The waiting area is small with an irritating talk show playing on the TV screen in the corner, but I could care less about normal things like mindless television because all I can think about is Asher. Another couple is waiting in the chairs opposite me with their hands clasped together. They both look nervous, and I wonder who they’re waiting for.
I keep my eyes on the door, hoping that Asher or his father will walk through it so we can all put this behind us. If I don’t see him soon, I’m going to go crazy. The door swings open, and a nurse dressed in blue scrubs walks through it. I hold my breath, praying for her to come talk to me, but she breezes past and heads to the emergency room.
“Miss Alexander,” the receptionist calls. I immediately jump up from my chair and take the two steps to her desk. “You can go in. He’s in room 112 down that hall.”
I don’t waste any time thanking her as I take off down the long hallway. When I reach the door, I peek through the small window and see Asher’s dad with his back to me. He’s looking down at his son whose head is turned in the opposite direction. Asher looks so tired and sad; I want to burst into the room and throw my arms around him, but I carefully open the door so that I don’t disturb anything that’s going on between them.
“You tell her or I will,” Daniel demands right as the door closes.
Asher’s eyes shoot to me, and his father spins around. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Do you want me to wait outside?” I ask, nervously. The hospital alone is enough to terrify me, but when it’s mixed with the tension in this room, it’s hard to stomach.
“No, I was just getting ready to leave. I need to go take care of a few things at home, and then I’ll be back,” Daniel says, turning back toward his son. “I think Asher has something he needs to talk to you about anyway.”
Asher shakes his head in disapproval and turns to face the lone window in the room. Daniel stops next to me and pats my shoulder before exiting the room. I have an empty feeling in my stomach as I watch Asher. I still have no idea why he’s here, but it’s becoming apparent that whatever it is, it’s big.
I gradually move closer to the bed, grabbing his hand in mine as soon as it’s within reach. “How are you doing?” I ask, stroking the back of his hand with my thumb.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t turn to me. He doesn’t hold my hand tighter in his. I hold my breath, waiting for a little piece of anything from him so that I can start to put the puzzle together and stop my stomach from sinking any further into the pit. I want him to fall into me and let me make it all better. He’s done it for me over and over again.