One Past Midnight (30 page)

Lucas was standing in the doorway. “Sounds like you grew up overnight,” he said, approaching the bed, putting a hand on my blanketed foot. “Glad you're okay.”

“Me too.”

He gave me a nod, something that looked like respect, then lifted his chin in Ryan's direction.

“You did good, man.” He gestured to Ryan's badly bruised knuckles. “You should get some ice on those.”

Ryan swallowed and quickly cleared his throat. “Yeah, thanks. I'll take care of it in a bit.”

Maybe I wasn't the only one building sibling relations today.

Dad studied the window and then the collection of flowers. I knew he couldn't cope with seeing me all beaten up. “Sabine, right now all you need to do is concentrate on getting better. Let the police deal with Dex. The main thing is, he'll never hurt you again. And if, when it comes
to it, you want to have your say, no one will stand in your way.”

I nodded. It was all I could do for now.

“I feel so stupid for not seeing this coming.” But even as I said it, I knew that in some ways the signs had been there.

“Creeps like that are sly, Sabine,” Ryan said. “They treat you like a princess as long as you're exactly what they want you to be, but when things go wrong, or if they think they're going to lose you, everything can change in a heartbeat.”

A nurse popped her head around the door. “I'm sorry everyone, but the doctor says she needs to rest.”

Mom and Dad kissed me gently on the forehead and headed for the door, with Lucas following.

“Ryan?” Mom called softly.

“Tell them to get lost. I'm not leaving her until she asks me to.”

Mom straightened. “Well, I'll do that then.”

I smiled, holding my big brother's hand, knowing we'd never go back to the way we were. Even as I dropped in and out of sleep and day morphed into night and the night lengthened, Ryan didn't leave my side and I didn't ask him to.

Finally he said, “This might sound really weird, Sabine, but you look as if you're happy.”

I looked at the clock; it was almost midnight and I had some truly amazing things to say to Ethan when I saw him again—things I knew he would be so pleased to hear.

“And this might sound really weird to you, but I am.” I shrugged. “I'm alive.”

I shifted.

I'd known Ethan wouldn't be there when I shifted back, but I still felt an intense yearning for him. I settled into bed, listening as nurses moved up and down the corridor, and eventually fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

I woke up mid-morning to a knock on my door. A moment later Macie came into the room. She looked like she'd been crying, and I wondered if she and Mitch had had a fight. “You have a visitor,” she said, without her usual bite.

“Who?” I asked, sitting up, suddenly hoping it was Ethan.

“Denise. She said she's a friend of the family and you're expecting her.”

My shoulders dropped. “Oh, yeah.”

“She's in the patient lounge. I can tell her to come in here if you prefer,” she said, staring at the ground.

“No, it's fine. I'll go there.”

Macie nodded and left me to get changed.

I quickly dressed in a mini and T-shirt, and made a mental note to go shopping for some new clothes once I got out of here. I knew it would take a while to convince everyone that I'd suddenly recovered, but that's what I was going to do. Ethan knew the truth and that was all I needed. As for everyone else in my life . . . it was probably easiest for them to
not
have to go there. It would take time—and no doubt a lot of talking with Dr. Levi—to convince people that whatever delusions I'd been suffering from had passed. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it fly that I suddenly couldn't speak French again. As much as I hated it, I've considered it might be easiest to just let them all believe I had learned it in secret, like Dr. Levi had suggested. Either way, Ethan would help me work it all out.

And I planned to help him too.

Whatever it was he felt he couldn't tell me, he'd now be able to. I'd made my decision—the way he'd told me I needed to—and now there was no reason for him to keep his secret from me.

Denise was sitting on one of the half-sunken sofas. When I came in she stood up, then clutched me in a warm embrace.

“How are you?”

“Actually, I'm good,” I confessed. “I didn't agree with Mom and Dad sending me here at first, but I think in the end, coming here was exactly what I needed.” It
had
brought me to Ethan after all.

She nodded, encouraged. “That's great, honey. I felt terrible about having to tell your parents about the stock.” She looked down and I grabbed her hands in mine.

“Denise, don't apologize for caring. It was a stupid thing to do and I should never have done it.”

At this she breathed a sigh of relief. “So, tell me about the place?”

I settled into my own uncomfortable seat beside her and smiled. “Well, it's like being in prison, and a few of the nurses hate me.”

“Let me guess, you weren't exactly cooperative to start?”

I laughed. “Kind of. But Levi is okay—”

She cut me off. “Levi?”

I rolled my eyes. “
Dr.
Levi. He does most of my sessions.”

She nodded. “Dr. Levi is a very well-respected psychi-atrist. I passed him on the way in—he's had a tough couple of days.”

I was smiling now, wanting to move onto a better subject. “And then Ethan has been helping out in the evenings.”

Her eyes dropped nervously.

“Denise, are you okay?”

“Yes, honey. I just . . . Have you spent a lot of time with Ethan?” she asked.

I swallowed, not wanting to get him into trouble. “Yeah. He, um . . . He's been a big help. I guess he's the reason I realized I needed to get better.”

“Sabine, did Ethan tell you much about himself? I mean, did he tell you . . . ?” She seemed to be at a loss.

I looked at her blankly. “What? Did he tell me what?”

“He . . . I . . . Oh, Sabine. Maybe we should get Dr. Levi to explain this. Hang on.” She stood up and quickly walked out of the room.

I sat there waiting, wondering what all the fuss was about. Did they know about Ethan and me? We'd never been caught sneaking out, never given anything away, no one had ever seen us together. I knew Ethan wouldn't have told anyone, as much for my protection as anything else.

When Levi came in with Denise, I noticed he was still in regular clothes and looked uncharacteristically disheveled and unshaved.

“Sabine, hello. How are you today?” Dr. Levi asked, sitting on the low coffee table opposite me.

“Fine. Good, actually. What's going on?” I asked quickly, looking from one to the other.

“I . . . I'm afraid we . . .”

Was he tearing up?

“Sabine, I know you grew close to Ethan in your first few days here, and I imagine you've been wondering why he hasn't been able to visit you over the past week, but—”

I cut him off, shaking my head. “What do you mean
past
week
? I know he wasn't here yesterday, but I saw him Monday night and . . . ,” I trailed off.

Levi gave me an odd look. “How often did you see

Ethan, exactly?”

“I . . . I've seen him every night, except for the weekend. Why?” I had a horrible feeling and the look on Dr. Levi's face did nothing to alleviate my fears.

He dropped his head, leaning over his knees. “He obvi-ously cared for you greatly.”

“What are you . . . ? What do you mean
cared
for me?” I looked around urgently. “Where is he? Why wasn't he at work last night? Did someone fire him?”

Oh my God, if they'd fired him—how would I ever see him?

Levi sighed. “Of course no one fired him. Sabine, did Ethan ever mention to you that he lived here, at the hospital?”

I shook my head. “No. Why would he live here?”

“He stayed on one of the other floors so he could be monitored. Ethan was sick.”

“What are you . . . ? He told me he gets headaches. Is that why?”

“It wasn't headaches, Sabine. Ethan was very unwell. To be honest, I thought he would've told you. He had Hodgkin's lymphoma, stage four. He tried everything: radiation, chemo. But when the bone marrow transplant failed, treatment became . . . impossible. He insisted that he keep working and we . . .
I
let him, thinking it would be good for him. In return he agreed to stay upstairs instead of at his apartment
by himself so we could at least monitor him and try to make things more comfortable. Last week he . . . he took a turn and was ordered to rest. He was also told to stop all work-related activities. To be honest, he seemed so determined to keep fighting it that . . . I thought he still had more time, but it wasn't to be. No one knew he was sneaking down here to see you.”

I wanted to argue, explain that he was
supposed
to be there, that he was working. But I couldn't think of one person who'd seen us together apart from in those first few days.

This
was his secret.

I could see my hands shaking, but I couldn't feel them. I couldn't feel anything. I had to get to him.

“Where is he? I have to see him!” I choked on the words. Denise dropped to her knees beside me, clutching my hands.

“I'm sorry, Sabine. The cancer had spread into his bones and lungs. Ethan passed away on Monday. The doctors said it was remarkably peaceful, no sign of any pain. They said his body held on for longer than anyone had expected, longer than anyone believed possible, but in the end it just shut down.” I watched the tears streaming down Levi's face. Denise was crying too.

I couldn't breathe.

All his words played back. All the things I'd been too blind to see. Too selfish.

Not me.

I like the idea that there's more to life. You know, we go on.

There are things I want to tell you, things you need to know.

I was sure I'd never have this.

Please, forgive me, but . . . I love you.

Not me.

I didn't realize I was the one making the awful wailing noise, thrashing about. I felt so removed from everything—as if I were watching it all unfold from some distant hell as my heart broke into pieces that would never be mended. But it
was
me and the needles came and went. Eventually the screaming stopped and my eyes were forced to close, two words repeating over and over in my tortured mind.

Not him.

Not him.

Not him.

I was in my hospital bed, suddenly awake, holding Ryan's hand. He was staring at me questioningly.

“Sabine? You okay? Your face . . . You looked so happy and now . . .” He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you okay? Did you see something?”

It came to me instantly—no blissful moments of reprieve that everyone always talks about, no split-second where he was still alive until I remembered. But the feelings came more slowly, taking what seemed like an excruci-atingly long time to envelop my confused mind. Somehow I knew they'd always be with me, always be strangling me from the inside out.

“Sabine?” Ryan said again.

Everything meant nothing.

I let go of Ryan's hand. “I'm going to get some sleep, Ryan. It might be best if you go.”

I didn't wait for his response, just rolled over, wishing that the drugs they were pumping into me could help with the most horrible pain imaginable.

In the morning people came and went, but I was numb. Mom and Dad visited. I didn't move from my curled-up position all day, and into the night. The doctors assumed it was a reaction to what Dex had done. I let them.

None of it mattered. Ethan was gone.

I drifted in and out of sleep. Eventually I must have shifted, because the next time I woke up, I was groggy and coming to, back in my room at the Roxbury Clinic.