I take a breath. Then another. Ronnie watches me, waiting, her patience stretching out the hush between us until it’sunbearable. Until the truth I’ve been choking on has nowhere left to hide.
“I like Damian,” I finally admit. “So much that I think I might actuallylovehim. And you’re right. That scares the shit out of me.”
The second the confession leaves my lips, I feel it—something shifting. Settling. A truth I’ve been running from at long last catching up to me.
I glance at Ronnie, expecting some kind of “I told you so,” but all she does is squeeze my hand again, a quiet acknowledgment that she already knew.
And now…so do I.
Vale más dar que recibir - It’s worth more to give than to receive
Translation: Love and compassion hold more value than wealth…so I intend to make a difference with mine.
True to my word, I return to the waiting room with enough M&Ms to feed a small army of children. One of the receptionists I passed during my hunt for vending machines took pity on me and gave me a plastic shopping bag to hold my bounty, and—when I told her why I’m here—even volunteered to take the flowers I got for Carol off my hands, promising to deliver them straight to her room or to Gina, depending on which she comes across first. I graciously accepted her offer; that bouquet took up more arm space than I was prepared for and was severely impacting my ability to efficiently stockpile candy.
The waiting room is quieter than when I was last in here, and I immediately clock that Blondie is nowhere in sight. It’s like I have an internal radar that was designed to detect her, and its sudden silence is unnerving. I don’t see Gina anywhere either, and I can only assume they’re with Carol, which bodes well if she’s able to have visitors now. For Blondie’s sake, I hope that’s the case.
Ronnie and Andie are here, at least—still sitting in the same seats as before—so I saunter over to join them, rustling, overpacked bag in hand. Ronnie glances at me when I slide into the empty chair beside her.
“Hey,” I say. “Any news?”
She shakes her head. “Not really. Though, I think I overheard Gina say they’re going to transfer Carol out of the ER soon, which is good. Lexi is with her now, so we should know more once she’s back.”
I nod. If they’re moving Blondie’s mom to a different ward, that must mean she’s stabilized. Definitely a good thing.
Ronnie snorts. “Are you planning for the apocalypse or something?”
I follow her gaze to the bag dangling from the tips of my fingers between my open legs. “Lexi said she wanted M&Ms,” I state simply.
Ronnie stares at me blankly for a moment. “So, you robbed a candy factory on the way over here?”
I bark out a laugh, and to my immense surprise, the she-devil grins at me—not like someone plotting my death, but like someone who might actually, one day, be my friend.
“I didn’t get a chance to say it before, but thanks for texting me,” I say to her, and I mean every word. “Really. Thank you.”
Her lips twitch at the corners, that smile faltering, a hint of sadness peeking through. “Thanks for coming. I’m sure Lexiwon’t ever come out and say it, but she’s glad you’re here. And I am, too,” she adds reluctantly, her voice a disgruntled grumble.
I smirk as I lean back in my chair. “Is that your way of saying you want to be besties?” Ronnie scoffs and rolls her eyes when I hold out my hand. “How about it, Red? Will you be the Alice to my Bella?”
Her lips purse, and with a delicate sniff, she retorts, “Jessica is the best I can do.”
I consider that for a moment, then nod. “A fair counter-offer. Frenemies, it is.”
Ronnie takes my hand, and we shake, affirming our newfound friendship…although, truce might be a better word to describe it. On her other side, Andie huffs out a soft, mocking laugh.
“And you callmea nerd.”
Roughly ten minutes later, Blondie returns, and I jump up from my chair the instant I spot her, my chest tightening when I notice her eyes are red-rimmed from crying. Shit. I hope that doesn’t mean anything bad. I weave around the chairs blocking my path until I’m standing in front of her.
“Hey.” God, she looks so dejected and meek, and so damn small in spite of her height. I want to grab her hand, or hug her, or just dosomething, but I’m not sure she wants to be touched. I know I didn’t. But then, maybe I would have if Blondie had been the one who was there with me all those years ago when I was in her shoes.
Swallowing the rising lump in my throat, I ask in a muted breath, “How’s your mom?”
Despite the redness ringing her eyes, a look that can only be described as relief crosses her exhausted—and definitely hungover—face. “She’ll be okay…which I already knew from Gina, but it helped to see it for myself.”
“Of course.” I understand that well. Unfortunately, I never got that moment with Jamie.
“Thanks for staying,” Blondie whispers, giving me a shy smile before dipping her chin to look down at her shoes. “I—Jesus, how many packs of M&Ms did you buy?”
