Page 112 of The Edge of Always

Emmett must know then. He must know that I’ve no future.

I swallow and nod. ‘Thank you again,’ I say as Dr Dave goes to leave.

‘Don’t thank me. Emmett did everything that he needed to do. Even paid privately for an air ambulance.’

An air ambulance from Paris to the north of England. I’d have to sell a kidney to be able to afford that. Not that anyone would give me a great deal of cash, even on the black market, for one of my organs.

‘I’ll leave you two to it,’ Dr Dave says as he leaves. ‘I’ll ask Mae to give you ten minutes, shall I?’

‘Yes please, thank you, Doctor.’ I’m not looking at Dr Dave as he leaves, though. I’m looking at Emmett.

As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on the bed, his hands around mine as I say sorry over and over and over.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you – I didn’t want to ruin our time together. I’m sorry I lied to you about Earl. You must hate me.’

‘Luna…’ Emmett’s thumbs are wiping away her tears, then his. ‘I have never hated you. I never deserved you, not then, not now.’

I sniff and shuffle further upright in the bedding.

‘But I didn’t tell you I was sick, and it’s exactly the same as before, when I didn’t tell you about Earl.’

He’s shaking his head. ‘It isn’t the same as before. Don’t think that. I knew Luna, I already knew.’

That makes me pause. I sit back to look at Emmett’s face. He’s aged a year in the last day. The skin under his eyes is paper-thin, and his lips are cracked, like he’s been out in the desert, starved of water.

‘What do you mean, you knew?’

‘I knew about your blog.’

‘When?’

‘A couple of months. You linked it on your personal Instagram. It was an accident, I think – you took it down quickly. I’m letting on just how often I looked you up on social media here, aren’t I?’

‘I did the same,’ I admit.

‘It means I knew. It was why I loaned MAM the painting. I wanted to reach out, but I didn’t think you’d come just for me. I knew you’d be there for Earl. He loved you so much, Luna.’

‘And I loved him, we both did.’ Emmett’s words are finally sinking in. He knew, this whole time, he knew.

‘I wanted to give you the opportunity to tell me yourself. I didn’t want to pressure you. I was so annoyed when you walked up the Eiffel Tower. Course, I didn’t know exactly how extensive the myocardiopathy was, but I knew you shouldn’t have been doing that. I kept asking why you didn’t draw anymore.’

He knew. He’s still talking.

‘I just knew that I had to see you. I’ve always been selfish, I still am, especially when it comes to you.’ He looks at the floor. ‘I’m DarthPainter, by the way.’

That makes me laugh. A half-hysterical laugh that cuts through the room like a bolt of lightning.

‘You caught me messaging you, in the hotel room. That’s why I was on your blog.’

I’m lost for words, caught somewhere between shock and awe.

Maybe I should be angry that Emmett didn’t tell me the whole truth. But there’s been so much hidden, so many half-truths, so mostly all I feel is relief that it’s all in the open. Plus, he knew, and he’s still here. I might not know what the future holds, but for now, he’s still here.

So instead of getting angry, I squeeze his hand as the door flies open.

Mae.

‘You’re alive.’ She’s on the bed in a fraction of a second.