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I jog past Gedeon, who is dead to me, and throw my arms around Dom. “It’s so good to see you. You look better.”
“I was in the hospital for weeks, Laila, and I haven’t seen you in months. I’m gonna need more enthusiasm from you. Compliment me like you mean it.”
Given why I got on the flight in the first place, enthusiasm is in short supply, but I muster some up for Dom. “You look… sexy as hell? A dreamboat to die for?People Magazine’sMost Beautiful Man on Earth?”
“Much better, although don’t you dare say that in Arsen’s vicinity or he’ll put me right back in a hospital bed.” He lets me go to clap Gedeon on the back, and then he turns his attention to Nina. “Jesus, she’s big.”
“Three months will do that to an infant.” He pulls her into his arms, and she eyes him suspiciously, but doesn’t cry.
“I think she remembers you from all the FaceTime calls.”
Sure enough, Nina places a hand on Dominik’s cheek and smiles.
On the way to the car, Dominik carries Nina while Gedeon tows the luggage. “I’m supposed to take you back to the house first,” Dom starts, “and then we’ll go?—”
“I want you to take me straight to the hospital.”
My two bodyguards share a look, and I jab a finger towards the sign Dom has tucked under his arm. “Queen Laila decrees it. And before you say anything, Queen Laila doesn’t care what King Asshole Incredible has to say about it.”
Dominik looks to Gedeon. “Who?”
Gedeon just pats him on the back. “Pick your battles, brother.”
Dominik sighs. “Alright then. To the hospital, it is.”
Dominik’s attempts to fill the drawn-out silences with anything other than the big, fat elephant in the room are commendable, but after he’s caught me up on Kira’s last trimester—a bit redundant, since I talked to Kira twice last week—there’s nothing left to talk about. So we don’t talk about anything at all.
Which is fine with me.
The thought of maybe seeing Arsen at the airport kept me distracted on the flight, but now, there’s nothing else for my brain to ruminate on except my mom.
She told me her phone camera was acting up the last few days, which is why we couldn’t video chat. I’m guessing that was a lie so I wouldn’t see her in the hospital.
Arsen said something about an infection, but I wasn’t in a place to take in details. Now, however, as we park in an underground garage and walk through a lobby that looks more like a high-end spa than a hospital, I’m taking in details.
Like the awards hanging on the walls declaring this “The Number One Choice for Hospice Care” multiple years in a row.
Like the “End Of Life” checklists hanging on bulletin boards and the endless array of kind nurses with sad eyes who nod to Dominik as we pass by.
This is the kind of place you check into, but never out of.
Finally, Dominik stops outside of Room 62. “Here we are. This is hercasa.”
I reach for the handle, but freeze. This is all I’ve wanted for months, but now, I can’t move. I’ve seen her on FaceTime, and I told myself that was good enough, but the connection was always spotty, the image blurred. I was able to convince myself she was looking good, but in a matter of seconds, I’ll be hit with the truth.
She is sick.
Deathly sick.
And I’m going to lose her.
Before I can work up the courage to go in, the door opens. Evelyn walks out, nearly running into me. “Laila!” she gasps. She shuts the door behind her and launches herself at me. “I can’t believe it. You’re here. You’re really here.”
I half-laugh, half-cry into Evelyn’s shoulder. “How are you? How is she?”
Evelyn releases me and takes a step back, her gaze racing over me. “You’ve lost weight.”
I could make a joke about the only restaurant near our prison cell of an apartment serving previously frozen sandwiches and wilted salads, but the truth is that I’ve been full up on anger for way too long.
