Page 56 of Escape to the Sun

“For the pain,” Sherri said when he lifted the bag for closer inspection.

“You’re awake.” It wasn’t a question. “Are you in pain?”

“At the moment?” She shook her head. “No more than usual. It also helps with the nausea.” She paused and finally admitted, “It just helps.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged and put the bag back where he found it and continued to tidy. No longer because the house was in shambles, but more now because he wanted to see what she was taking. He took a minute, finished up with the bottles before finally grabbing himself a beer.

Ash settled down next to Sherri on her bed, took a slug of his beer and finally asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue all day. “Tell me how you’re doing.”

She opened her mouth to say something. But before she said anything, she closed it and pressed her lips together.

“Tell me how you’re really doing. I’ll know if you’re lying. Tell me, Sher. Please.” The last word came out as the plea he meant it to be because he needed to know. Yes, after seeing what he’d just seen, he needed to know.

“It’s fine. I’m taking my pills and following the protocol and—”

“Stop.” Ash shook his head and looked down at his lap. “Do not tell me any bullshit about pills and supplements and for the love of God, do not tell me a goddamn thing about protocol. Not one. Just tell me what’s going on, Sher. Tell me you’re going to be okay. Tell me you’re taking care of yourself and you’re just about to turn a corner or please, please tell me you’re going to let me take you in to the hospital.”

Sherri didn’t say anything right away. When the silence stretched out to the point where it was almost unbearable, Ash turned to see whether she’d fallen asleep again. Her dark eyes stared back at him, unblinking. “Sherri.” His voice was barely a whisper. “This is crazy. Please.”

She shook her head slowly. So slowly it barely moved, but he saw it. More than that, he saw the small tear that formed in the corner of her eye but didn’t fall. “No,” was all she said.

“Sherri.” He stopped himself just short of begging. He didn’t want to beg, but he would. Without a doubt, he’d get down on his knees and beg the woman he loved more than his own mother to let him take her to the hospital in any kind of last-minute effort to save her life because clearly she was dying right in front of him and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

Her hand reached out from the pile of blankets. The touch on his arm was so light, it tickled the skin. “I have to do this my way.” He opened his mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes stopped him. “No, Ash. I know you don’t understand. I know it’s hard and you just want to fix this but some things can’t be fixed with medicine and doctors.”

“That’s bullshit.” He curled his fingers around the bottle of beer. “This can be fixed with medicine and doctors. Or at the very least, it will give you a fighting chance, Sherri. And that’s better than what you’re doing right now. You’re up here in the tree, hiding and waiting to die.”

“Is that what you think? Really?”

He nodded. “I do.”

She took a minute, as if the very effort of formulating an argument was costing her precious energy she didn’t have and Ash felt a pang of guilt at the idea that he was costing her that energy. “Ash. You know I love you.”

He did.

“You know I think of you as my own.”

He knew that too.

“And you know that I have no problem telling you when I think you’re being an asshole.”

He smiled, because he already knew that.

“This is mine, Ash.” She took a deep breath and he could have sworn he heard the air filling her thin, fragile lungs. “This disease is mine. It’s my battle to fight or to win. On my own.” She held up a finger to silence him before he spoke. “And when I go into battle, it’s up to me to choose my arsenal.”

“But what if you’re purposely turning down the best possible army in favor of—”

“Of what?” With effort, she pushed herself up so she looked directly into his eyes. “Of nature and energy and faith? Yes. I am. I’m choosing that over an army of medicine with pockets lined with big business, corruption, and greed whose number-one purpose isn’t to cure me—it’s to pad bank accounts. But don’t forget, I haven’t totally given up on the drugs. I’m taking them, too. Remember? But just the minimum. I don’t need to give them any more of my money if I can help it. So if that’s what you think I’m doing, then you’re correct.”

She was exaggerating. She was overblowing what was probably a small issue, but Ash couldn’t totally disagree with her. Especially the part about it being her war to fight. She was right about that. He had no business telling her what to do. No matter how badly he wanted to scoop her up and carry her into a hospital. It might be killing her. But it wasn’t his battle to fight.

But he could help.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he said again. “If this is what you want to do. Let’s do it.”

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