The Problem With Heartache (42 page)

“Where you going?” Jay persisted, tugging on my jeans as I stood.

“I’m going to fight for what I want,” I said, and I smiled, knowing truer words had never been spoken.

I was going to catch a plane.

I was hoping to catch a girl.

I
SAT
at the bed, holding Dad’s hand, counting the little blips on the monitor. It felt so trivial, such a nothing activity to pass the time, but I had to do something. I needed to occupy my brain with something more than
he’s not going to wake up
. Because that’s what it said, a lot of the time.

Doctors and nurses came and went, checking vitals, monitoring machines. One even asked me if there was any change, and I’d felt like yelling at him.
Yes, he woke up, did the polka, and now he’s back out of it again. Shame you missed it!
I knew they were only doing their jobs, but still. A little logic wouldn’t go astray.

“Gosh, what is there left to fill you in on …” I mused, staring at his skin. I’d gotten used to the slightly ashen colour now, the cooler than normal texture. His body wasn’t shutting down, apparently; his circulation was just low. Weird what you took to be a good thing when you were in a situation like this.

“Well, Michael’s due home any minute now, so Stacey’s going crazy with excitement,” I said, acting like Dad knew what I was talking about. “She even had a—” I stop. Out of it or not, it still felt weird telling my dad about my best friend having a bikini wax. “She had a, um, haircut.” I nodded. “And she wants Michael to, um, see it. And maybe …” Hmm, what could I say here? “Maybe check the area”—
with his penis
—“for, uh, any spots the hairdresser might have missed.”

“Aside from that, nothing new to report, today.” I shrugged. It was day five of coming to the hospital, day eight of Dad’s coma. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew there wasn’t much hope.

But it was human nature to want to believe the good, to hold on to that tiny bit of positive and hope like anything that it twisted in your favour. Because if you didn’t have hope, what did you have?

“I applied for a few jobs today,” I threw in, just to fill the empty space. “Nothing too exciting, mind. Something in sales, which sounds horrid, but at least it’ll earn good cash. Another job in admin.”

Silence stretched out between us, interrupted only by the workings of machinery, and my mouth dried. This could be the last time …

“I … I haven’t heard from Lee,” I choked out. God, that night had sucked, but it seemed so trivial now. Nothing compared to this. “I mean, right now it’s not really a … a priority for me …” A tiny sob escaped me and I tried to reel it back in. It felt like all I’d done this past week was cry. I was surprised I had any liquid left inside me to shed.

“I can go if you’d like.”

I froze.
What?

“I should have … Kate, I should have figured that I’m the last person you want to see right now.”

I turned in my chair, slowly, carefully. But my ears heard correctly. There in the doorway, leaning against the metallic frame, was Lee-
freaking
-Collins.

A sports bag rested on the floor beside him. His dark hair was ruffled, and he had a five o’clock shadow darkening his chin. But he was
here
. In Australia.

In this hospital?

“How did you know where—”

“Stacey,” Lee answered before I had time to finish the question. “She met Michael and me at the airport.”

I shook my head. She’d messaged me this morning to ask what I was wearing today, mentioning that dressing nicely was good for keeping up positive vibes. I snorted.
More likely she wanted me to look hot for Lee.
How had I fallen for the vibes line?

My heart swelled with hope, and a tiny part of me wanted to just run and throw myself into his arms, but I schooled myself still instead, and sat there staring at him, a what I hoped was defiant look in my eye.

“What are you doing here?”

Lee walked toward me, looking to my father and then meeting my gaze once more. “What’s going to happen?”

“You’re ignoring the question.”

“You’re not listening to what I’m asking.” Lee gave a cryptic smile, and I rolled my eyes. “Kate, I’m here. I’m here, putting my heart, my everything before you. You’re … you’re nothing like anyone I’ve ever met before, and I want to know, hell, I
need
to know. What’s going to happen? With us?”

My heart pulsed in my throat, and my stomach churned. What on earth was happening? How was Lee Collins here, in the same country, in the same hospital as me? It didn’t seem real.

There had to be a catch. “Did you talk to Lottie?”

“Yes.” Lee’s voice was clear, and I knew he wasn’t lying. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“She gave you permission?” I widened my eyes.

“She gave me the truth.” Worry clouded Lee’s normally clear eyes, and I tried not to reach out and touch his arm, but it was so darn hard. “And made me see that … I can’t save everyone, Kate. And at some point, I have to save myself.”

Lee walked to my side and stood by my chair, his eyes locked on mine, crystal blue meeting hazel-green. “Kate, everything you said was right. I still … I still feel guilt about Ryan’s death. I don’t think anything will ever make that go away, no matter how hard I try.” He let out a rushed puff of air. “But I need to live my life. And I’ve been thinking … I can’t work out a way to do that without you in it.”

This time, my heart started doing Zumba from my stomach to my throat, giving me a good old-fashioned internal workout. What was he saying? Was he going to try—did he want to—

Then, Lee did something that stopped my thoughts right in their tracks. He lowered himself, down to his knees.

Oh. My. GOD.

The Zumba became replaced with a mimes session. My heart was doing its best impression of a still life, somewhere up in my throat.

“Kate.” He looked at me with all this
feeling
shining from his eyes. “I love you.”

Emotions welled within me, and I wanted so badly to say yes, to kiss him, to make this happen, but—

“It’s too soon!” I blurted out. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I mean, I do, I really like you, and you have no idea how happy I am that you’re here, and I would love to date you and God, I’d even consider moving in with you, but—”

“What are you talking about?” A frown crossed Lee’s brow, then a few beats passed and he looked down, then back up at me, and laughed. “Um … since you were sitting, I thought I’d kneel so we were on eye level.” He bit his lip, laughter dancing in his eyes. “Did you think ...?”

Oh. My. DOUBLE GOD.

This had to be some kind of horrible dream, the type where the next thing you know you’re naked in front of a hall full of people. “I wish my clothes would come off,” I mumbled, pulling at my shirt. Nope. Still firmly on.

Lee gave a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. “I’m sure we could—”

“Not in front of my dad.” I frowned. Comatose or not, I still wasn’t going to have anyone making sex references around him.

And that’s when my heart stopped. The machine attached to Dad’s arm started beeping like crazy, frenetic angry noises, as if it had just been plugged in after resting in a stale state.

“Get someone!” I screeched at Lee, and he rushed out of the room. I hovered over Dad’s head, his face impassive, but his body jerking every few seconds, his little finger twitching, his face spasming.

This was it.

He was going to die.

My dad was dying.

Hurt welled in my body, up through my veins, and I started to cry. I grabbed his arm and begged, pleaded for him to stay, for anything but—

“What’s happened?” One of the nurses from earlier came rushing in, the doctor right behind her.

“He’s dy—”

“Let’s get a team in here, stat!” the doctor yelled, and within seconds, the room was a hub of activity, people coming and going like ants in a farm.

My throat clogged up and I surged forward. I had to be with him. He couldn’t go like this.

“We need you to step out in the corridor.” A woman in scrubs touched my arm, gesturing to the door.

“No!” I cried.

“He’s coming to.” She smiled kindly.

Three little words.

I love you.

We are good.

Happily ever after.

He’s coming to.

They changed everything. They made it all better.

Lee and I walked out of the ward. I was numb, in a state of shock.

“He’s …” Lee pressed his hand over my shoulder, and I looked up at him and smiled.

“I think so.” From the window in the corridor my eyes were glued back to the bed, where a host of people were now checking monitors, shouting medical terms and generally looking important. But I didn’t care. What I did care about was his hand. That little finger … it kept twitching.

He was going to be okay.

“I …” I froze. What was I thinking? “I gotta call Mum.” I grabbed my phone and dialled her number, unable to keep my eyes from the prone figure on the bed that maybe now, was coming back to life.

I hugged my arms around my middle while we talked, and I smiled, I smiled so wide that my cheeks hurt from holding it that big. It felt like for once in my life, everything was working out.

Maybe I would get a happy ending after all.