The Heartbroken - S01 E203

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 203

“Kyla,” he whispered, and while there was no hint of

a command in the way he said my name, it felt like

he had just given me an order.

I shut up and s----d in a breath, pursing my lips

together to choke back a sob.

“I’m only getting worse,” he said matter-of-factly. I

shook my head, opening my mouth to retaliate, but

before I could say anything, he was speaking again.

“I am, Ky, I am.”

“Chemo might work,” I insisted.

He gave my hand a weak squeeze. “It might.”

But it might not, I almost heard him say.

Looking at him, it was hard not to remember being

in the same situation with dad.

I took three deep breaths, telling myself to be strong,

for him—for me—because I needed to be here. I

needed to make sure he knew I wasn’t going

anywhere, because I wasn’t.

I was stronger now.

“Promise me”—I swallowed—“promise me you’ll get

better.”

His eyes softened to reveal his sadness. His lips were

pursed, his brows furrowed ever so slightly, his

eyes searching mine in a way that strong, steady

Cedric never had to do before. “Only if you promise

me you won’t expect I will.”

—

I got out of Cedric’s room just in time to find Philip

deep in conversation with a doctor.

I couldn’t exactly follow much of the medical terms,

but I could see from the grim expression on the

doctor’s face that something wasn’t quite right. Philip

was nodding at certain points, surprisingly

composed.

When the doctor left, I reluctantly walked over to

where Philip was standing, looking distraught.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

He looked surprised to see me, but he recovered

quickly. “It’s—there’s a—due to short notice, there

were slight problems with the blood bank, so they

can’t perform a blood transfusion to raise his

hemoglobin levels.”

My heart sank to my stomach. “What problems?”

“There was this accident two days ago where they

had to use much of their supply and—and they don’t

know when they’ll get more, but they say they’re

trying to resolve this as soon as they can.”

I could feel my heartbeat accelerating at the news.

“How—what—that—that can’t happen.” I kept

shaking my head at this, my mind already racing to

think of the possible complications of having low RBC

count for too long.

“It will be okay,” he said, calm and collected, but I

knew from months of watching my mother say the

exact same thing that this was just simply something

he’d gotten used to.

“Don’t you have the same blood type?” I asked him.

He heaved a sigh and shook his head.

“What about—what about his mother?”

He paused at the mention of his ex-wife, but then he

shook his head and gave me a small smile. “There’s

nothing we can do but wait. He’ll be fine.”

Averting my gaze, I opened my mouth to say

something but clamped it shut instead, biting down

on my lower lip to keep myself from calling him on

the obvious lie. I’d seen it all before and I know better

now than to believe that things will be all right, but I

could see the slump in his shoulders and his heavy-

lidded gaze, and there was nothing I could do but

nod and walk away when he told me to get some

rest.