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“It’s early, obviously. But I’m going to stay optimistic. She’ll be on circulatory support for five days, and, of course, a rejection could happen at any time, but I’m happy with how the surgery went.” His blue stare moved back to me. “You’ve got a true little fighter. Assuming all goes well these next few days, the first six months will require extra care.”
“I understand.”
“Good, because she’s gonna need you.”
Fuck...I hope so.
Because she likely wouldn’t want me.
Ollie tapped on the door to Cat’s room, stepping inside before I could pull my eyes away from her to call him in. I’d stared at her straight for around seven hours today, holding her hand, singing her songs written by other people, ignoring those who’d been in and out. It was five days post-surgery, and each day showed minor improvements. My hopes were constantly rising, and the surgical smell in the room was no longer irritating to my nose.
“How’s your girl doing?” he asked.
My girl. He could admit that was what she was now because he saw through the obsession and finally saw how much I loved her.
“She’s breathing on her own.” I smiled the biggest smile, side-eyeing him.
“That’s amazing. Her big sister’s taking care of her. Big siblings do that, you know.”
“Yeah.” I shot Ollie a knowing glare. The poor fucker had been up to his elbows in shit lately because of me. “It’s the younger ones’ job to cause as much stress and anxiety as possible.”
“Yeah… and you aren’t even the baby.” He laughed.
Today, he and Dec had been doing the final clean at Rothbart’s place after disposing of his body earlier this week. Woodrow said the pigs had enjoyed having him for dinner. It just went to show they’d eat shit if given it.
“You here alone?”
“I haven’t been long. Jolie and Woodrow have gone to get me a coffee. Feebee has been in and out.”
“Have you made arrangements for Rhylie?”
“Not yet. Cat should be a part of that. She’ll have a better idea of whether or not Rhylie would have preferred burial or cremation. I want her to have what she wanted.”
“Of course.” For close to a minute, he stayed silent. “How are you handling her loss?”
Taking a glance at Cat, I wondered if she could hear me as I came clean. “It’s painful, but I’m grateful for what she did. Every day since I was arrested has been a nightmare. When Cat needed a new heart, I didn’t cope, Ollie.” Licking the dryness from my lips, I looked back at him. “I almost slipped. The hag had given me drugs to tempt me. It didn’t work, but I kept them anyway for some reason.”
He asked without judgment, “Do you want me to get rid of them?”
His stare stayed soft, hiding the demand that would follow if I dared to say, I’ll hold on to them for my next breakdown.
“Jolie took them from me. She gave them to Dec. I asked her not to tell you, but if you tell them I have, they can back up my story.”
“I don’t need them to do that. You’re clean. I can see it. I’m proud of you for giving them up, Remi, at what was probably the hardest moment of your life. I was wrong for calling you toxic.”
I nodded, my eyes on him again. He stood close to the door in a gleaming white shirt tucked into perfectly pressed pants.
I guessed he’d been home to shower.
“Desperate was the word you were looking for.” I allowed myself a slight laugh.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You look clean—a different clean.”
“I wouldn’t dare be here if I hadn’t washed first. And don’t worry about anything regarding Rothbart’s. That place is gleaming, and those cameras are gone.”
“Doesn’t change what they already recorded.”
