Chapter 30

Two days.

Ameline was only able to rest for two days before she insisted it was time to see her mom. I think she doesn't know the meaning of the word relax.

While Ame pretended to chill in my house, Archer did some digging around about her mother's current situation. She's staying at Seattle Memorial—the oncology ward. He didn't find out anything about her prognosis, but I'm seriously concerned.

As we enter the sterile hospital corridor, Ameline slides on her sunglasses with a quiet wince, shielding her eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights.I can tell her headache is back. It's in the subtle crease of her forehead, a detail I wish I could overlook. Though I can't do much to stop her from heading to her mom's room, I can try to persuade her to cut this visit short. We could come back tomorrow.

If possible, I would suggest we go back to my place, but I wouldn't dare to do it. Not when I know she's determined to make this visit today.

Would it kill her to wait until next week after she sees the neurologist? Aunt Aspen helped us get an appointment with one of the best doctors in the state. She said he'll be thorough and will be able to provide her with a customized treatment—if this turns out to be just a migraine. The last part worried me, but I didn't ask much since Ameline was next to me. I don't want to worry her, but what else could it be?

As we leave the elevator, I offer my arm for support as we walk toward her mother's room. Ameline leans in slightly, her strength seeming to ebb but her resolve standing firm.

We enter her mother's room, and I'm greeted by the familiar sounds of hospital equipment and the smell of antiseptics. Her mother, in her mid-sixties, lies in a hospital bed with all the usual medical devices surrounding her—monitors, IV drips, and a heart monitor beeping away rhythmically.

Her mom's face lights up when she sees Ameline. "Look how big you are. So beautiful, just like your father," she says with a mixture of joy and a hint of sadness.

Ameline forces a smile, though I can tell the comparison bothers her. I give her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. They make small talk about her mother's treatment while I stand near the doorway, allowing them some privacy. Yet, Ameline turns frequently in my direction, as if looking for some reassurance. I smile as a way of saying, I'm here and not going anywhere.

Their conversation is pretty casual, mostly about Ameline's school life. She talks about her poli-sci major and plans for law school, mentioning an interest in corporate law while also wanting to offer her skills to those who can't afford legal representation. This revelation catches me by surprise. I thought she wanted to do restoration or something focused on art.

This is news to me. We haven't talked about her plans or aspirations in a long time. All I know is that she's been adding more credits to her load and even had classes during the summer. She's hoping to graduate at least a semester before, but if possible by this time next year she'll graduate.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ameline rubbing her temple. That's her tell for a headache kicking in. She's trying to be subtle about it, but I can tell it's bugging her. Concern washes over me as I observe the creases of discomfort on her forehead, her eyes slightly narrowing as she tries to focus.

"I think we should go," I finally speak up, knowing it's time to intervene and get her home. "Maybe we can swing by tomorrow?"

Right as we're about to leave, her mom drops a bombshell. "There's one more thing," she says, her voice heavier than before. "I need a bone marrow transplant. The doctors say it's my best shot."

"A transplant," Ameline's voice is breaking.

"Yeah. I was hoping all of you would get tested but . . . neither your brother or sister want anything to do with me," she whispers the last words. "It wasn't my fault, you know. I . . . it's all so complicated. When everything was over your father kicked me out, erasing me from your life."

Ameline takes off her glasses and stares at her mother, confused.

"All I ask is for you to help me beat this," her mom insists.

After a couple of seconds, Ameline responds, "I'll get tested right away."

Her mother reaches for her hand, giving her a weak squeeze. "You're so brave, sweetheart. Just like your father."

Abruptly, Ameline goes rigid in her chair, the tender scene shattered. Her limbs jerk and tremble, eyes rolling back. A guttural cry sticks in her throat as the violent seizure takes hold. Before her body can slide from the chair to the hard linoleum, I dart forward, catching her in my arms.

"I've got you," I breathe, clutching her quaking form against my chest.

She's stiff as stone, lost inside the seizure's grasp. Helpless, I cradle her head, stroking her hair, willing the episode to pass. Even though my training compels me to time the event, count her ragged breaths, in truth my faculties desert me. There is only her, the racing of my pulse beneath her shuddering cheek.

"Help is coming," I whisper fervently when nurses rush into the room.

My heart races as I surrender Ameline to the outstretched arms of the medical team. Tears blur my vision as I watch them take her away. My arms ache from the absence of her weight. I follow closely behind, giving them all the information I know about her condition while they work to control her convulsions.

Finally, she goes still. I gently brush her damp hair back from her forehead. As they move her to one of the rooms in the ER, Ameline slowly starts to come back. She seems disoriented and weak. Anxiously, I watch as the nurses begin to hook her to an IV, the heart monitor and . . . in no time she has tubes snaking up her arms.

"The doctor will be here soon," one of the nurses says before they leave.

"Gabe?" Ameline croaks, barely able to speak. "What . . . What happened?"

I quickly take her hand, relief flooding through me at the sound of my name on her lips. "You had a seizure, baby." I kiss her palm. "They're taking good care of you."

When the doctor arrives, he asks me to step out, so he can examine her. I hesitate, not wanting to leave her side.

"Only family is allowed to stay," he says firmly.

Oh, that's so simple. "Well, I'm her fiancé," I lie, hoping he won't press for details.

He eyes me skeptically but relents with a sigh. "Very well. Just don't get in our way."

I let out a breath, grateful for the chance to remain with her. As the doctor checks her vitals and shines a light in her eyes, she reaches for my hand again. I give it a reassuring squeeze, wanting to take her place. Become her.

The doctor wheels her away to run some tests. She'll come back soon, he says, but the wait feels like an eternity. Hours pass before they come back. When they roll her in Ameline falls back asleep. I brush a strand of hair from her face and whisper that I'll be right here when she wakes.

My protective instincts are in overdrive. Seeing her so vulnerable makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let go. I've never felt this strongly about someone before, not even Leslie,I don't think. Sure, I loved her but not to the point of wanting to be with her at every waking moment of my life. Not to the point of wanting to give up my life for hers.

And I do for Ameline. I want to switch places, make all this go away.

Just as I'm starting to doze off in the chair next to Ameline's hospital bed, the door opens abruptly. I jolt awake to see an older man stride into the room, his face like a thundercloud. He heads straight for Ameline's bedside, not even glancing my way.

"Ameline." His voice bounces through the walls.

"Dad?" Ameline mumbles, stirring. "Who called you? I . . . This is nothing. I should be home soon."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asks. "I got a call that my daughter was in the emergency room. Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

Ameline winces at his booming voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just . . . I was with Mom, and suddenly I had another episode."

"You were with your mother?" His voice is like an explosion that blasts almost everyone in the hundred-mile radius. Soon enough the nurses come running in alarmed.

"Sir, I need you to keep your voice down," one of them orders.

"I forbade you from seeing your mother," he says, ignoring the nurse. "Why would you disobey? Are you here to donate something she doesn't deserve?" he seethes.

As I try to intervene, Ameline's father shoots me a glare that's sharp enough to cut through steel, silencing me instantly. The tension in the room spikes, almost tangibly.

That's when this woman in bright red lipstick sweeps in. She's like a force of nature, touching the man's arm with a deceptive gentleness. "Richard, please, lower your voice. We're in a hospital. Let's just forget about this one and go." Her words drip with a cool, unfeeling detachment.

Richard takes a deep, steadying breath, his rage simmering down. "You're right, Helen. She disobeyed me. Didn't I tell her not to pull a stunt like this?"

Helen, with her back straight as a ruler, looks at Ameline with a gaze as cold as ice. "Why do you care, Richard? She's not even your child. I've been saying for years, just cut your losses and let her go." The venom in her voice could kill everyone in the room.

Ameline's face goes pale. "What do you mean by ‘I'm not his child'?" she stammers out, disbelief and hurt crashing in her voice like a tidal wave. The machines beside her bed start to beep frantically.

"Everyone out," the doctor demands. "I'm calling security if needed."

Her father snorts, a sound filled with bitterness. "No need to. I'm leaving. She's not mine anyway." His parting glance at Ameline is something that looks a lot like hate. "I'll call my lawyer. Since you're not my daughter, I won't be paying for your tuition or rent anymore. You'll have to figure out something on your own. You have a week to vacate my studio."

With that, he turns on his heel and stalks out without another word. Helen smirks before she saunters behind him, leaving Ameline shell-shocked.

I want to comfort her, but I can't. The doctor pushes me out of the way because they need to check on her. My mind is racing wondering what's just happened. There's always been animosity between Helen and her, but this . . . is it true?

And what is she supposed to do now?