Don’t Make Me Turn This Life Around by Pagán, Camille (top novels of all time txt) 📗

His tongue was probably host to seventeen different diseases, but I still laughed. “See?” I said.

Paul sighed deeply. “Listen, I can’t believe I’m offering this, but why don’t I see if I can find a place to buy him a leash and some food?”

“Really?” I said. “You would do that for me?”

When he nodded, I leaned over the armrest and kissed his cheek. “You really love me, don’t you?”

He pretended to be offended. “Would I have flown over shark-infested waters in two-winged death traps to save you if I didn’t? All the same, you owe me.”

“That was true long before you offered to dog sit. I’ll have Shiloh text you when we’re on our way back.” I gave Pedro a quick scratch under the chin before hopping out of the SUV. “Wish me—” I stopped myself before I could tell him to wish me luck, because I wasn’t the one who needed it. “Wish Milagros the best,” I said.

“Already done,” he called through the window. “Love you the most!”

I didn’t yell back that he was wrong. After all that he’d done for me, maybe that was actually true.

I was awash with equal parts anticipation and anxiety as I walked through the hospital’s double doors. Milagros was alive; that was no small victory. But when Paul said she was “struggling,” what did that mean, exactly?

I was ready to pull my head out of the sand and find out.

I broke into a run as soon as I spotted Shiloh in the lobby. “Where are the girls?” I said breathlessly, throwing my arms around him.

“Hi to you, too,” he said, planting a kiss on my lips. “They’re at the hotel. I double-checked Charlotte’s blood sugar before I left and she’s totally fine—I take it Paul told you we swapped out all her supplies yesterday?”

I nodded. “What about Isa? Paul said she wasn’t doing well.”

“She was freaked out about Charlotte’s health, but she’s calmed down a lot. Now they’re vegging out in front of the TV in a room that’s nearly freezer temperature. They claim they never want to be warm again.”

“They’re alone?”

“It’s only ten minutes away, and I didn’t want to bring them to the hospital,” he explained apologetically. “They promised to be good, and there’s a doctor on call at the hotel if anything goes wrong.”

“That makes me nervous,” I admitted, “but I trust you.” His arms were still around me, and I pressed my face into his neck. He smelled so good, and he felt so solid and reassuring and alive. “Thank you,” I added.

“For what?” he said.

“Getting everyone here safely.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Yes it is,” I insisted. “I was so scared.”

“You’re the one who thought to look for a boat. But Libby,” he said, too gently. “Are you all right? Did anything happen after we left?”

I was about to tell him I was fine when it occurred to me that I wasn’t, and I was done pretending that I was. “We’ll talk after I see Milagros,” I said, tugging on his shirt so he’d follow me to the elevator bank. “Which floor?”

“Fourth,” he said as I pressed the button that would take us up.

“Have you seen her recently?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’ve been here for about an hour.”

“And?” I said.

He hesitated.

“I can handle it,” I said.

He exhaled audibly. “The damage to her heart muscle was pretty extensive, Libs. And the longer you wait after a heart attack, the worse it is. She probably wouldn’t have made it if we’d waited any longer.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” I said, touching his face; his usual stubble was now a short beard, and with the deep tan that he’d somehow managed to get in the middle of a storm, he looked as handsome as he ever had. “I don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate you.”

“Libby, you don’t have to,” he said, giving me a quizzical look. “I know that.”

“I know you know, but—”

There was a ding, and the elevator doors opened before I could finish.

“You ready?” he said.

I had been until he said that. “No,” I said, stepping off the elevator. “But I want to see Milagros, so let’s go.”

Save for the beeping of machines and the sound of someone moaning down the hall, the floor was eerily silent.

Then I saw Hector.

He was bent over making a terrible wheezing sort of cry, and as soon as he lifted his head, I recognized the agony in his eyes.

Because it was the same pain that my father had shown when he told me and Paul that our mother was gone.

“No!” I cried. I started to run, but I’d only taken a few steps when a wailing sound filled the hallway. It took me a moment to realize that it was coming from my mouth.

I didn’t even bother trying to stop myself. Shiloh was rushing toward me, but I held out my hand to indicate I didn’t want to be held or comforted. I was done pretending things were fine. It was time to face reality.

I steadied myself and took several lurching steps past Hector into Milagros’ room. Tears blurred my vision, but I could see that her eyes and mouth were shut. At least she looked peaceful. But it was little comfort, because after all that, I hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye to her.

“Oh Milagros,” I said, taking her hand. Her fingers were still warm and her skin felt like crumpled tissue paper beneath my fingers. “Did I even tell you how much I loved you? Or that you saved my life—not just when I had that infection, but at least a dozen other times, just by being there for me?” I said, and now I was sobbing again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I loved you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t thank you half as much as I should have.”

But just as I bent to kiss her cheek one last time, her fingers tightened around mine and her eyes