Page 111 of Perfect Distraction
Chapter Twenty-One
A week and a half later, on a Saturday that was so beautiful she felt the weather was mocking her, Lauren stood at Andrew’s door. She’d stayed strong and kept her distance. He had, too.
She had texted Jeni several times since his hospital stay, though, asking if he was okay and if his symptoms were improving. She’d begged Jeni not to tell him.
She’d kept a level head at work and at home, trying to return to the life she’d had before Andrew. The problem was, that prior life seemed black and white, and the time in between filled with color. She didn’t know how to go back.
She hung out with her friends and watched documentaries. She went to Children’s Hospital, careful to check the schedule and go when Andrew wouldn’t be there. She studied for her board exam and worked on an educational lecture for the clinic nurses. She’d avoided the infusion suite yesterday, when she knew he’d be there receiving what would hopefully be his second-to-last chemo treatment.
Life sucked—especially after she’d moved to the thoracic oncology clinic and was two floors away from her friends—but she was making it. One slow step at a time, and she counted it a success that she hadn’t crawled to Andrew’s door in the middle of the night to say she’d been an idiot and ask him to reconsider. She’d thought about it more than once, but with some supernatural strength she didn’t know she possessed, she’d stayed away.
But she’d received news today that he needed to know, and she refused to do it any other way than in person.
She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, composing herself, and asking God to give him strength.
Not her. Him.
She raised her fist and knocked.
A few seconds later the door swung open, and Andrew’s eyes widened in surprise before a smile spread across his face. It was short-lived, though, when he really looked at her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.
“Can I come in?”
He stepped aside, and she walked past, setting her purse on the table before she sat on the couch. Andrew closed the door and sat down next to her, concern etched into his features.
“Lauren, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
She swallowed. “Andrew.” She took his hand in hers. “Jasmine passed away today.”
He blinked. Stared at her, as if he were solving a difficult math equation in his head.
Lauren brushed her thumb across the ridges on the back of his hand. “Did you hear me?”
His sharp intake of breath startled her, and he suddenly stood up. He jerked a hand up to the back of his head and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but no sound came out. He stepped back, and his knees hit the coffee table with a thump.
“I…I don’t…” he stuttered. “That makes no sense. I just saw her—” His voice hitched, and he turned to walk into the kitchen.
Lauren stood up but stayed near the couch. “I’m so sorry, Andrew. I know she meant a lot to you.” She gripped her hands in front of her.
He turned back around to face her. “How? What happened? She didn’t seem sick…she wasn’t getting worse. I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know all the details, but she’d recently had chemo and her white count was very low. She went into septic shock, and then multisystem organ failure—”
“Stop.” His voice was sharp. “Don’t talk to me like I know that medical lingo. I have no fucking clue what you’re saying.” His volume was near yelling, but his voice wavered, and he swiped at his eyes. “What are you saying?”
Lauren wanted to touch him, the desire to hug him almost overwhelming, but she wasn’t sure what he needed right now. His distress was clear and he’d walked away, and she’d dealt with more than one distraught family member. It was usually best to stay calm, collected, and to the point.
“She got an infection, and her body couldn’t fight it.”
Andrew bit his lip, squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his head away. “Dammit.” He suddenly lurched to the side and slammed his palm against the wall. “Fuck!” His forehead hit the surface beside his hand, and his shoulders began to shake.
Screw the breakup. Lauren went to him, raising her arms to wrap around him, but before she could, he turned his tear-filled eyes on her. His eyes were cold and angry, and she stopped in her tracks.
“Is this how you’ll be?” he spat. “If I die? Cool and collected, like I meant nothing to you?”
Lauren was speechless, and she took a step away from him, her mind whirring to process what he’d said. Shock, followed by indignation and disbelief, filled her.
