I’m not supposed to be here.
I open my eyes to off-white walls. The steady beeping of my heart rate monitor. Uncomfortably stiff sheets underneath me and a green hospital robe wrapped around me.
At first I think, This is a nightmare.
Most of my nightmares take place in the hospital.
But then I see her. Naomi. She’s sitting in the chair beside my bed in sweatpants and a college sweatshirt, her thick dark hair a wild mane around her head. When her eyes catch on mine, she smiles.
“Hey, Lazarus,” she says.
Not a nightmare. Naomi would never be in my nightmares.
“Hey…” I shift to sit up in bed. I get a head rush, the world tilting briefly, and I exhale slowly until my vision reorients. “I feel like I did something very dramatic.”
“You did. You big drama queen.”
She’s smiling, but her eyes look sleepless and nervous.
She reaches over and slips her fingers in between mine. Her fingers are usually filled with chunky rings. Right now, they’re naked, and her hand seems small compared to mine.
“You scared the shit out of us.”
Us. “Where’s Diego?”
“He’s talking to your dad, I think.”
She must mean Donovan. My stomach churns when I think about how my father must be crucifying Diego right now.
Naomi pulls her lips in. “They didn’t tell me much, but…it has to do with your kidney, doesn’t it?”
I let out a deep breath. I’ve been avoiding this conversation for too long.
“Yes,” I confess. “It’s my kidney. Look…the truth is, it’s been going downhill for a few months now.”
Her mouth purses in concern. “Is that…normal?”
I nod. “Yeah. More or less.”
“So…why not tell me about it? Did you think I couldn’t handle it?”
I hesitate. “No. That’s not it. It’s…ah. It’s just complicated.”
She shifts forward. “I’m a smart woman. Try me.”
I press my lips in a half-smile. “I know you are. You’re the smartest woman I know.”
I take those fingers laced in mine and pull them to my lips. I kiss her knuckles and the backs of her hands. Naomi rises and presses her mouth to mine.
She’s so soft, so warm, and I want to live in this forever.
But when she pulls back, those brown eyes are glittering. She holds my gaze. “Otto. What aren’t you telling me?”
I clear my throat. “I didn’t want to tell you…because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it.”
“Try to talk you out of…what, exactly?”
“I’m not getting another transplant.”
A thick, heavy silence falls between us.
“Otto—”
“I’m not doing it.” End. Period. I look her in the eyes when I say it this time so she knows I’m serious. “I know my rights. I can refuse treatment if I want to.”
“Why would you…?”
“I’m not giving up this kidney. I’m not.”
“It’s a kidney. A failing kidney. Why would you hold on to that?”
“It’s mine.”
Her jaw sets, confusion and thick frustration in her voice. “If you don’t take the transplant, you could die.”
“It’s my choice.”
“What about me? What about my choices? If I lose you—”
“If you lose me, you’ll find someone else.”
Silence stretches out between us, dark and heavy.
“Was that what last night was?” she asks finally. “The threesome? Were you giving me to Diego?”
My lips thin. “Not giving. Giving implies that I own you. You and Diego are the best people I know. You’re good together.”
“So, what. You’re afraid I can’t handle being alone?”
“No. I’m afraid he can’t be alone. He lost his mother and…”
My voice stoppers in my throat, and I can’t bring it back.
She puts her hand on my wrist. “If you don’t want him to be alone, then don’t leave.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. I want her to give up. I want her to leave me alone.
Naomi isn’t finished, though. She presses with “Last night, you told me you loved me. Did you mean it?”
My jaw clenches so tight, I might snap my molars.
“Otto. Did you mean it? Because if you did…that’s pretty fucked-up. You can’t tell me you love me and then make me watch you die.”
“It was a mistake,” I snap. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
She stares at me. Tears dance in her eyes.
My soul has been sucked straight out from my chest, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I’ve made my choice. These are the consequences.
I have to break her heart. It’s the only way she’ll move on.
It’s the only way she’ll let me go.
“Get fucked, Otto,” she says.
She doesn’t sound angry, though.
She sounds hurt.
She storms out of the room and out of my life.
