Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
She gripped the edge of the counter and swayed. She wasn’t ready and probably never would be. What was the rush in burying her husband? There wasn’t one. At least not for her. Nadia could go on and pretend Rafe was away on a business trip or gone for the weekend with his friends. The weekend would just never end, and she’d be okay with that.
NINE
GRAYSON
“Good morning,” an unfamiliar voice called out.
“Hi,” he said hoarsely. “Where am I?”
“MedStar,” the voice said. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Sore.”
“Grayson!” His mom sprang out of the oversize chair and was in his face. He closed his eyes at the way her hand felt in his hair.
“What happened?”
“You’re in the hospital. Do you remember me telling you this the other day?”
The other day?
“No,” he mumbled as he tried to adjust himself in the bed. “Why does my throat hurt?” Grayson looked at his mom and frowned. He had never seen her look . . . old before. She had always been young for her age, and people often mistook her for his sister. One time someone had asked if she was his girlfriend, which made Grayson want to punch the guy. Not because he was insulted but because the man insinuated that his mom had done something untoward to him.
Sydney had raised Grayson on her own when her boyfriend abandoned her after he’d gotten her pregnant. Young (still in high school) and with no place to live, she’d worked and continued her education. She always put Grayson first and hadn’t abandoned him when the doctors told her he was sick. Sydney worked harder to give him a good life.
Now, her features made her look older than she was. Grayson was concerned.
He reached over, closed his eyes when stretching hurt, and rubbed his thumb under her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Not a thing, my sweet boy.”
“Then why have you been crying? And why does it look like you haven’t slept in days?”
“I’m okay. I promise.” She ran her hand through his hair and inhaled deeply. “You collapsed after one of your men’s league games.”
“I did?”
Sydney nodded, and tears fell from her eyes. “Yes, and you were brought here by ambulance.”
“Oh.”
“That’s not all,” she told her son. “Your heart condition—” She paused and made eye contact with him. Grayson saw the look in his mother’s eyes and knew a lecture was forthcoming. He hadn’t taken his meds in a while, and when he had taken them, it had been sporadic at best. For whatever reason, he lived by his machismo attitude: nothing could bring him down. He was climbing the corporate ladder at the Wold Collective, he had an amazing group of friends, and for some reason the woman he was in love with gave him the time of day, even though he didn’t deserve it. Grayson didn’t need pills to make himself feel better because he felt great. Besides, he was healthy and happy. Those bottles, hidden in his bathroom, reminded him he was weak, and he didn’t like how they made him feel.
And then he remembered when he didn’t feel so well or when his chest hurt, and he’d ignored it. He looked away from his mom before she could see any type of realization in his gaze.
“Everything’s good now?” he asked in a shallow voice.
Sydney hesitated and then offered a weak smile. “You have a long recovery ahead of you, Grayson.”
“For a heart attack?” he asked. “That seems extreme.”
“Honey.” Sydney sat on the side of his bed and held his hand in hers. “Your heart . . .” She paused as her breathing hitched. She cleared her throat. “Your heart was too damaged to repair. You were put in a medically induced coma due to several things, but mainly to keep you stationary and allow your body to get stronger.”
“My heart’s damaged?”
Sydney shook her head. “Not anymore. Now it’s healthy.”
“How?”
She inhaled deeply and smiled. “Because you received a transplant.”
Grayson let the words sink in. They sank. And continued to do so until they were fuzzy and not making any sense. He looked around the room. Sterile. Plain. He was by himself, aside from his mother and a barrage of machines. Grayson followed the lines to under the blanket that covered him, and then he saw the tubes with pink-tinged liquid traveling through the casing.
“Mom,” he said in a panic. “What is that?”
Sydney leaned over him and saw where he pointed. “Drainage tube.”
“I have a tube in me?”
She placed her hand on him. “It’s best you remain calm. Do you want me to get the doctor?”
Grayson shook his head quickly. “No, but what the fuck is going on?” As soon as his breathing deepened, the monitors began beeping. He looked at them in panic and felt his blood pressure rise.
The door to his room slid open. “Hey, Grayson,” the nurse said as she came in. She pressed some buttons, and the beeping stopped. “I’m Jillian. How are you feeling?”