Chapter Twenty-Eight

DURANGO WALTERS

Here I sit in my office on a brisk December morning as the sun casts long shadows on the mess of papers scattered across my desk. I'm lost in thought, replaying the events of that disastrous night over and over in my head. What can I say to Max? How can I make him understand that I never meant to hurt him? I've tried so many times to tell him about the transplant, but the right moment never seemed to arrive. Or, each opportunity I got, something interrupted us that seemed more pressing. Each time chipped away at my resolve, leaving me with a growing burden of guilt because I knew it would be that much longer until I told him.

Thank God Jake took Gage for the day today. It gives me some time to think and try to plan a way to fix this. But as I lean back in my creaky office chair, exhaustion pulls at me. This is evidence of my struggle is real, several hours of sleep deprivation finally catching up with me.

Wandering into the living room, I clutch my phone like it's a tether of worlds between me and Max. It's been two days, and the silence from Max has been deafening. The worry consumes me, razes me, but I know I must give him space. He needs time to process the information. To heal. I sink onto the couch with heavy eyelids, about to usher me into a sweet lullaby. Sleep will come quickly, a welcome escape from the turmoil of reality.

Max rests on the bed, his fingers tracing the contours of my chin. His anger seems replaced with understanding and forgiveness. In my heart, I feel the pity heckling me, for this is only a dream. It's only a fleeting hope, some fragile thread of optimism. But it's enough to keep me going.

A jarring sound out on the street shakes me awake from the brief nap I've fallen into. When I wake, my phone is still silent. No messages and no calls, either. The dread returns like an icy fist clenching around my heart. Did I officially lose him? Did my secret push him away for good? Pushing it all aside, I decide this is my moment to act. If I don't reclaim my dignity, I risk losing the second-best thing that's ever come into my life. And my transplant will have been in complete vain of Brogan Baxter. Shuffling into the bathroom, I waste no time splashing water into my face for a momentary ‘pick me up', all the while hoping it sustains my energy long enough to earn back what I had no intentions of ever losing.