“Did they talk to you about follow-ups? Maybe a carotid ultrasound?” Seamus glances up from the paperwork.
Papa nods. “I’m scheduled for the Monday after Thanksgiving.”
Seamus explains the risks, how his father has recovered from a stroke, the signs to watch for, and the urgency of follow-up care in a way so thorough and calming, my parents actually listen.
He seems to walk on water.
We stay and visit for about an hour before my dad nods off. On the way out the door, my mom hugs both of us goodbye and shoves two Tupperware containers of flan into his hands.
“Take it,” she insists. “Thank you.”
As we walk back out into the dark, wet night, Seamus nudges me with his elbow. “See? I win over moms.”
“You’re impossible.” I try to keep stoic, but my heart is swooning.
When we settle back in the car, with him at the wheel, he turns to me. “How are you doing?”
“Tired. It could’ve been worse. Thank you.” I breathe out a sigh of relief.
He stares out the windshield for a beat. “I meant what I said, by the way. About how I feel about you. It’s only gotten stronger.”
Gravity shifts.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I know we set boundaries and—”
“Seamus,” I interrupt before he can finish. “Let’s get through the settlement.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Then leans back in his seat and whispers, almost to himself. “Okay. No promises when…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence.
He doesn’t need to.
Once this thing with Caldwell is done, I don’t think anything will hold us back.
I’m terrified of what happens next.
eighteen
Seamus
Present Day
Theroomistooquiet.
It shouldn’t be. Not with the soft wheeze of machines still rhythmically pushing air into Miranda’s lungs. Not with the low murmur of hospital sounds drifting in from the hallway.
Inside this room, with drawn blinds and dimmed lights, silence wins.
Marcella stands beside me, her arms crossed tightly over her chest like she’s trying to hold herself together.
Surrounded by their family, Daniel and Myra Black hold Miranda’s hands and each other, every breath they take ragged and fragile.
This is it. The end.
I can’t save her.
I tried. Jesus, I tried.
