“You have a reputation around these parts,” I teased, knowing he’d understand exactly what I was talking about.

He smirked. “Your talking to me and calling me your ‘friend’ is going to confuse the hell out of everyone. I don’t have female friends.”

I would have laughed. I should have smiled. But those words. I knew them. They were so familiar. Which made no sense. My chest tightened when he said them, like I … like I missed them.

“You okay?” His voice snapped me out of the weird in-between state I had drifted into.

“Yeah, I’m good. Bit of a headache,” I lied.

“I’ll go grab you some Tylenol.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I just need coffee, and luckily I can fix that easy enough.”

He didn’t seem convinced. But he finally took his things and went to find a table. One where I could see him and he could see me. Something about that also made me feel like I had done this before. Was I dreaming about him and not remembering it?

“Why didn’t you shut me up and tell me he was your friend when I was talking about him?” Isla whispered behind me.

I turned to look at her. “I know his reputation. I didn’t have time to explain he is my brother’s frat brother and roommate. We met this summer.”

That was the most I was willing to tell her right now. My coma and Slate being in my hospital room while I wasn’t awake was more information than she needed.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

SLATE

THE DRIVE TO Franklin would have been so hard without Vale. I was worried. No, I was terrified of what I’d see. Of how Uncle D would look. The little boy in me wasn’t ready to see him at death’s door. Barely hanging on. I needed him. I wasn’t ready to let him go.

Vale’s voice, her ability to keep my mind off things, and the way she shifted in her seat and crossed and uncrossed her legs was enough to keep me preoccupied.

However, when we finally pulled in to the parking deck of the hospital, all my fears came to meet me head-on. I paused after we were parked for a minute to mentally coach myself for what I was about to see. I loved that man in the hospital room, and I hated seeing him in pain.

Vale leaned over and placed her hand on mine. “I wish I could tell you this won’t be hard. It will be. It’s going to hurt and your heart will ache. But he needs to see you smile. He needs to hear you laugh. He needs to know you’ll be okay.”

She was right. These weren’t empty words of encouragement. She was being real. I had to face this and be exactly what that man in there needed me to be. When I’d been without parents, he had stepped in and been what I needed, and that couldn’t have been easy. But he did it. He’d sacrificed for me my entire life.

I owed him everything.

“Thanks,” I said, looking at her. Those pretty blue eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“Let’s go make a memory” was what she said, but what we both knew she meant was “This may be the last time. Let’s make it count.”

I nodded and we got out of my Jeep.

The walk inside had been one I’d done every day for almost a month. During that time, she’d been sleeping. Missing life. Would my time with my uncle this summer have been easier with her? Somehow I thought it would have been. She made things easier. Just being there. Just being her.

When we stepped out of the elevator, Everly was walking out of a room and stopped to look at the both of us. She gave a fake smile that didn’t match the expression in her eyes.

“I see after all his visiting you this summer, you’ve made friends now you’re awake,” she said, not sounding at all happy about it. Everly was that kind of woman. The one that wanted to be the prettiest, the most desired. Unfortunately, she wanted it so badly it was unattractive. Those were the worst kind. Her hotness factor was seriously hit by her selfishness.

Vale paused and studied her a moment, then she smiled as if remembering. “Oh, you were one of my nurses. That time after I woke up is still a little blurry for me. I’m working through what was real and what wasn’t.”

Everly gave another fake smile and pointed down the hall. “Your uncle is in two forty-six.”

“Thanks,” I said, touching Vale’s elbow to turn her in the right direction, and moved us on down the hallway. Far away from Everly. My sleeping with some of the nurses this summer must have gotten around. She was more than likely bitter about that.

“I don’t think she’s very nice,” Vale said, as if she was turning it over in her head.

I laughed. “No, she’s not.”

“Shame. She’s so pretty.”

That kind of honesty was the kind that attracted men. And Vale didn’t have one damn clue.

We reached my uncle’s door and I stopped, unable to open it. As mentally prepared as I tried to make myself, the thought of walking into that room and seeing him even more frail wasn’t easy.

Vale reached for my hand and squeezed it, then opened the door because she realized I wasn’t going to be able to.

We walked inside slowly and my eyes landed on him. He was asleep. Hooked up to monitors and machines. An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth. He looked as if he’d lost twenty pounds in a week.

My stomach clenched and my chest hurt so badly I needed to sit down. If this was real fear, I’d never truly experienced it until now. Even when they’d told me my mother was dead, I hadn’t been this scared. As a child, I didn’t think about facing life alone.

Vale let my hand go and walked over to stand beside Uncle D’s bed. I did the best I could to move closer.

“I’ve come to visit, just like I promised I would. You better open those eyes for me.” Her tone was soft and teasing.

Uncle D blinked and finally focused on Vale looking down at him. A smile touched his thin, dry lips.

“Look who’s here,” he rasped.

She beamed at him. “I am without apple pie, I’m afraid, but I did bring something else. I think it’s better than apple pie, personally,” she said, then looked over at me.

Uncle D turned his head and his eyes met mine. They were never very expressive eyes, but as pale as they were now I could see love in them. I’d never questioned his love for me, even though we didn’t say that word much around our house. Our actions spoke clearly enough.

“I guess that’ll do,” he said. His words were so soft, you had to strain to hear him.

It had only been a week since I’d seen him last, and yet he seemed months different. Like half the man he was just last Saturday.

“I leave you for a week, old man, and this happens,” I said, finally closing the distance between us.

He gave a weak laugh.

“Why didn’t you tell me Vale had visited you before? Had to hear it from her,” I said, wanting to reach down to hold his hand in mine but not doing it. We weren’t affectionate like that.

“Keeping her to myself,” he replied, and this time I laughed.

“You just wanted my momma’s good cooking,” Vale said, and he turned his eyes toward her.

“That, too,” he agreed.

There would be no Texas Hold ’Em today. He barely had any energy to talk. The idea that there would never again be a hand of Texas Hold ’Em between us bit deep.

“You know I told you I wasn’t sure about college. But I did go, and I’m glad I did. You were right. I couldn’t sit back and let life go on without me,” she said to my uncle.