‘Do you see now why he blames himself?’ Emma’s face was chalk white. ‘He blames himself and, much as I tell him not to, the truth is I fully understand why, because in my darkest moments sometimes I’ve blamed him, too. If he’d just left things alone, hadn’t interfered, then Mum and Dad would still be here, I’d still be walking…’ Emma snapped her mouth closed, startled eyes darting to Lily’s as if she should somehow be flinching, should somehow berate or reprimand her. But Lily gave the gentlest smile of understanding.
‘It’s OK,’ Lily said softly, kneeling down and wrapping her arms around Emma’s. ‘It’s OK to feel like that at times.’
‘Is it?’ Emma gulped.
‘You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t,’ Lily ventured. ‘Maybe it’s what Hunter needs to hear. As much as the truth hurts, sometimes it’s needed.’
‘Stupid thing is, it turns out that he was right.’ Emma pulled away, glimpsed a world that was still standing after her revelation. ‘Mum and Dad were the happiest I’ve ever seen them that night in the bar before the accident. They told me that that night had been the best of their lives, that they were proud of us both…’
Perhaps they had, perhaps they hadn’t. Lily truly didn’t know if Emma was using poetic licence to distort the painful memory, or if indeed she was telling the truth. All Lily knew was that if it made the agony more bearable then it was something Emma needed to believe…
Hunter, too.
‘Mrs Myles?’ The doctor had changed out of his golf spikes into smart leather shoes, and she jumped at the title. ‘I’ve just got your husband’s results in.’
And she could have faced it alone, could have sent Emma away, but today had nothing to do with who deserved to hear what—or who was right and who was wrong. Today was about Hunter and, holding Emma’s hand, the two women braced themselves to hear the news.
How long she sat there staring, Lily didn’t know. Time had no meaning as again she watched the rise and fall of his chest. Once he opened those eyes, squinted at her in the way that always melted her heart.
‘Sleep,’ Lily said softly.
‘You’re here?’ She sensed his confusion, moved quickly to douse it—touched his beautiful face with her hand and willed him to rest, knowing instinctively now the right words to say to him.
‘I’m here because I want to be.’
She watched the moon move across the sky, watched the sun rise on another morning, watched bag upon bag of fluids seep into his veins until the sun rose on yet another day, stripping the grey and tipping the world into colour, a lazy blush crawling into the room, his cyanosed lips flushing red, the exhausted rise and fall of his chest slipping into an easier rhythm. And for the first time in her adult life Lily allowed herself to be looked after. Sipped the coffee Emma brought, squeezed her hand as she disappeared as silently as she’d come—felt from her sister-in-law the acknowledgment of the love she had for her brother, real love, because whether or not he felt the same was immaterial. Even if she had to leave him because of what he’d done, she’d never stop loving him. True love didn’t have to be reciprocated to exist.
‘Hey.’ Hunter blanched at the sunlight that bathed him, winced as the pain caught up with him. ‘I thought that you’d left me.’
‘Believe me, I tried.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He stared right at her as he said it. ‘Sorry for putting you through this. I never wanted you to find out.’
‘Well, I did,’ she said simply. Now was not the time for venom, now not the time to impale him with her pain ‘And I’m not here to make things harder for you now. I’m actually here to say sorry, too—sorry for not realising you were sick when I shouted at you.’
‘I wanted you to leave me.’ His brutal admission inflicted a pain that was physical and Lily’s vow to stay calm, to not cry at this part, crumbled, along with her pride.
‘You could have just told me that.’ Lily blew her fringe skywards, tried to keep her voice calm. ‘You didn’t have to sleep with Abigail to make me leave.’
‘I never slept with Abigail.’
She wanted almost to doubt him because it scared her how badly she wanted to believe him, yet truly she did. Now was not the time for lies. His voice was so unwavering, his eyes so direct she knew she was hearing the truth.
‘If I told you I was sick you’d have stayed, but for all the wrong reasons.’ Again he confused her, again she lost the thread of the conversation. Massaging her temples, she dragged in a breath, tried to fathom what on earth he was talking about. ‘You’d have stayed out of duty.’