Page 79 of Ly to Me

“I’mnothis family,” I said through gritted teeth. Her face pinched as I continued, “I have other things to do than watch a man I never liked wither away on his deathbed.” Which is what I’d told them when they tracked me down to my place of employment back in Georgia.

She straightened and propped the clipboard on her hip. “It’s not my place to tell you how you should be spending the time you have left with—”

“So don’t,” I interrupted her. “It’s not part of your job to tell me how to treat him. Whatisyour job is to communicate with me when it’s all over. Are we clear?”

She was silent as she met my eyes, searching for whatever reason I had to hate him. Try as hard as she might, she wouldn’t be able to guess, anyhow. Finally, she sighed. “That’s fine, Ms. Thomas.”

“Roland,” I corrected. Maybe it was the need for distance that made me blurt the new name, one I hadn’t pictured I’d ever actually carry. Until last night, when Carver called me his wife so many times, I guess it finally stuck.

“Newly married,” I clarified as she scribbled that in on her clipboard.

“We will contact you if his condition worsens or improves.” She threw in the last part like I’d never considered that option, because I fucking hadn’t. That must’ve been clear as day on my face, because she added, “Wewill do whatever we can to help your…relative, on their road to recovery if or when he wakes up. The new medicine is quite progressive for some of our other patients, and has shown to turn the tides more than a handful of times.”

“Out of how many?” If my voice shook, I ignored it. “How many?” I asked before giving her a moment to answer.

“About six so far out of fifty patients in the past few months have shown progress with the new treatment, and about three of those were in a worse-off condition than he is now.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, and her eyes widened. “That’s wonderful news,” I bit out, trying to tame my features.

Onlyhewould have brain cancer, slip into a coma, and then be taken back out of it like the Devil himself couldn’t even handle having his name on the roster of Hell.

29

Carver

The Day After

Iwoke up to no one.

No Lyra beside me, or under my arm. No running water or light on in the bathroom. I gathered the sheet around my naked waist and checked the shower, searching like she could hidebeneath the tiles. I tried to walk calmly out to the kitchen—still, no Ly. My patience was slipping, but I tried to stay calm in case she was outside, talking to her friend, or smoking.

Wood creaked under my feet as I stepped out on the porch, walking down the length of the house, searching all ends. Again—no Lyra.

And that’s when I saw the tire tracks from where her car had sat for over a week now. Mostly unused. Unneeded.

Dick clucked in circles over the tracks, pecking at the gravel like she’d be under those stones. Not the brightest bird, but he seemed to notice something was missing from the spot. Something so vital that I struggled to calm the blur of racing lines running through my mind.

Our night couldn’t have gone better. Not even in my dreams had I been able to kiss her, fuck her, and make her mine all over again. She let me devour her, let me caress her body and hold her…and…

I’d never once asked her about birth control. Hadn’t even crossed my mind until now.

Dick cocked his head at me as my legs grew weak. I fell to my knees in the gravel, staring at the end of the driveway, counting up and down to and from ten, like that would bring her back. What if she ran away, and this time, I’d miss out on a family with her? She’d take what we created when we made love to each other and just…leave.

What was really stopping her?

One night with me, and I thought she’d love me. That I was enough to keep her here.

How fucking naïve.

I rushed back inside, threw on my jeans and gathered my phone in my hands, then paused as I stared down at the screen. I’d never gotten her number. The one person who might’veprobably wasn’t going to like hearing from me, but I had to push that all aside.

I needed her backlike I needed to breathe.

“Carver. What do you—”

“I need Ly’s phone number,” I cut off Jamie instantly.

He croaked out laughter I didn’t fucking feel. Something like a chair squeaked in the background and I pictured the smug bastard leaning back in one. “She’syourwife, ain’t she?”