Page 54 of The Heartbreak List

My throat thickens and I grab at the tightness in my chest that doesn’t ever seem to ease these days. “That’s not what I wanted. You know that. You read the same studies I did.”

He peels the corner edge of the label on the bottle. “But it’s gone too far. We have to do something.”

“I don’t know what to do.” My eyes grow wet, and I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop it. She cries all the time. She thinks I don’t notice, but how can I not when her eyes are always red-rimmed and puffy? She barely gets out of bed unless we have somewhere to go. It’s killing me that I can’t work out how to help her. “She says she’s not depressed. She won’t try a new therapist.”

“I’m scared.” He takes a swig from his beer. “Mom and Dad won’t say anything, but they’re freaking out. Things have changed these past two weeks. She’s given up.”

“America called me.” I put my unopened bottle on the step.

“She called me too,” he says.

Indy hasn’t talked to her best friend in weeks. America can tell something is up. That we’ve been keeping things from her. “I don’t think she’s worked out what’s going on. But I think we have to tell her.”

“America would come straight home if she knew.” He stares into the opening of his beer like he expects it to provide something other than liquid.

“But we promised.” As much as I hate the idea of letting Indy down, it’s fast becoming obvious that we’re going to have to.

“Maybe seeing America would help.” He leans in. “Maybe if she got America involved in the bucket list—”

“Indy isn’t doing the bucket list anymore.”

He pauses with his beer halfway to his lips. The gleam of hope fades from his eyes. “She’s not?”

“She wanted to focus on the wedding.”

“What about the death coach?” He frowns. “Going to that smash room with them really helped me deal with my anger. Not that it’s gone. It’s still not fucking fair that my baby sister is going through this shit. Or that we’re going to lose her. But it helped me articulate what was going on in my head.”

I didn’t like the way this asshole moved in on my girl the moment I stepped away. I didn’t trust that his motives were to help Indy and not to benefit himself in some way. I didn’t like the way he tried to insert himself in our relationship that night on the curb either.

That could have been borne from Indy not realizing she didn’t give me all the details. It could be because our relationship has been rocky of late. “You told me you didn’t like the look of the guy.”

“I didn’t.” His mouth puckers like he’s sucking on a lemon. “But that was before we spent an hour smashing things. And he told me that my biggest regret would be not saying everything I needed to say to Indy while she’s still here. We don’t know when this tumor will take her from us, but it will without a doubt be far too soon and before we’re ready.”

I’ll never be ready to lose her.

“I think she needs the bucket list, Gray,” he says quietly. Seriously. “I think focusing on the bucket list was giving her something to look forward to.”

“But the wedding—”

“Reminds her of the future she wanted but won’t have.” He blows out a long breath. “Don’t you think? Doesn’t it make you think about how soon it might all change?”

I don’t want to think about it. I force those thoughts out of my head when they try to creep in. Indy is going to get better. The tumor is going to shrink, and the doctors will cut it out, and this will all be a blip that will make us appreciate everything we have.

I imagine her, belly round, carrying my child. I imagine her growing old with me. I refuse to give up because everyone else has accepted that there’s nothing more to be done.

Standing, I leave EJ on the steps and make my way through the house and back to Indy. Her dad is sitting on the wooden lounger beside her. He looks gutted all the time since the diagnosis.

He gets up when I join them, his gaze glittering as he nods at me. Then he strides inside, leaving Indy and me alone.

I straddle the Adirondack behind her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I bury my face in the crook of her shoulder and neck. We made out so many times on this very spot. The crackling flames keeping the chill away, not that we noticed anything. We were so into each other.

“Do you need anything? Can I get you anything?”

“No. I’m okay.” She meets my gaze with her own soft one, before relaxing into me.

My chest aches. If I can’t find a way to pull Indy out of her funk and cling to positivity, how can we possibly stand a chance?

"So, the bucket list?” I ask EJ while Indy rests on the couch after dinner. She barely managed a couple of mouthfuls, and I almost broke down. I wasn’t the only one. Her mom had to walk away from the table to rein in her emotions. “Do you know where it is?”

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