Page 37 of The Heartbreak List

“EJ,” my brother says. “And you’re sleeping on my sister’s couch because?”

“It didn’t seem right to sleep on the bed.” Theo’s response is combatant.

“What the fuck?” EJ growls.

Oh my God, what are you doing, Theo?My muscles ache like I spent twenty-four hours straight at the gym. It takes far more effort to shuffle out of bed than it should. Everything hurts and my balance is still off, so walking across my bedroom floor is akin to being on a boat in rough seas. Or at least, I imagine it is. I keep one hand on the wall as I walk into the living room. “EJ, what are you doing here?”

“Wondering why there’s a strange man sleeping on your couch.” He continues glaring down at Theo, who is on the floor.

Shirtless. Bruised. Trouble of the attractive kind. To most girls. But not to me.

“And why you’re not answering your phone.” He marches over to me as he taps out a quick communication. A second later my phone notifies me of a message in the family chat. “No one could get hold of you. Mom is freaking out. Gray has been on my back all morning. I was supposed to be preparing for court, but since I didn’t have to go into the office, I told them all I’d swing by.”

“I was sleeping.”

“Indy, you’re sick.” Feet planted wide, he crosses his arms over his chest. Then uncrosses one to rub at his eyebrow. “Sorry if we worry about you more now.”

“You thought I was dead?” The truth is at some point in the near future it’s going to be lights out for me. And I pray that it happens in my sleep. So I shouldn’t be annoyed that they would worry when I don’t respond. They’re all on edge. All hypervigilant. It’s not just Gray. It’s my entire family.

His chin lowers toward his chest. “That thought did cross my mind.”

It’s too much. It’s suffocating. I wrap my hand around my throat and try to pull oxygen into my lungs. I don’t want them to worry about me. But I can’t stop it. There’s nothing I can do to help the people I love deal with what’s happening to me.

“I’m going to make coffee.” Theo stands and stretches as he walks out of the room. “Don’t worry, I’ll work out where everything is.”

A muscle in EJ’s jaw jumps as Theo starts opening and closing cupboards, giving us space to talk. “I felt so sick coming up here. Not knowing what I was going to find.”

“I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“And that guy…”

“Is a friend.” I’m cold and breaking out in goosebumps so I go back to the bedroom to snag a sweater.

EJ follows me. Expression pinched, voice accusatory, he asks, “Then why don’t I know him? Why haven’t I heard his name before?”

Shrugging into the comfortable fleece, I tug the zipper up. “Because he’s a new friend. We met recently. After the diagnosis.”

“And now he’s sleeping on your couch while Gray is in another city?” His eyes cut toward the noise Theo is making in the kitchen.

“Oh my God.” I drag a hand through my hair. Wince when the strands tangle and come out on my fingers. “What are you trying to say, EJ?”

“I…I don’t know.” His brow wrinkles. “That it’s weird is all.”

Is he seriously being this much of an asshole? “Unbelievable.”

“Indy.” He follows me out of the bedroom.

Theo has worked out the coffee machine and has three mugs of piping hot brew ready to go when I enter the kitchen. He’s stolen my favorite stool and is scrolling on his phone while digging into the opened corner of my mother’s foil-topped casserole dish.

His jaw isn’t as puffy this morning, but the bruising is vicious, and he has equally dark bags under his eyes. I should have offered him an ice pack last night. “You didn’t have to stay.”

He shrugs but doesn’t say anything as my brother comes into the kitchen. Scooping another mouthful of loaded macaroni and cheese onto his fork he pops it between his teeth.

I collect a glass and fill it with cold water so I can take the handful of meds I call breakfast these days.

“Talk to me, Indy.” EJ stands almost too close to me as I fight with the cap on one of the pill bottles. “Here, let me help.”

He reaches over and snags it out of my hand. It’s easy for him to unsnap the lid, but all that does is make me want to scream and punch things. I want to tell him to get out and leave me alone. Tell him that I don’t need him worrying about me. But I miss him already…I don’t really want to push him away. Even if it might be easier than dealing with his hurt. “I can do it.”

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