Dr. Caldwell got that look on his face again, shattering me. “It’s a process,” he began, but I stopped him, shaking my head and holding up a trembling hand. Cricket already knew the details, no need making her hear them all over again for my benefit, not when I could very clearly understand what he meant.
I breathed deeply in and out of my nose to keep from vomiting. Ellie came in the room, dressed and with Emmett. I left the room so Cricket could tell her grandparents the bad news. I waited outside the room and broke down a little when I heard both her grandparents begin to cry quietly.
Dr. Caldwell, left Cricket’s room and I called after him. “Dr. Caldwell!”
He turned around. “Yes?”
“I-how quickly can you see if you qualify as a living donor? I’d like to give a kidney to Caroline.”
His hand found my shoulder. “It takes around two weeks, son.”
“I’d like to begin the process as soon as possible, please.”
“Have you thought this through?”
“I don’t have to,” I told him.
“Listen, Spencer?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We not only have to run several grueling tests on you, we also have to give you a psych eval, etc.”
“Whatever. I’ll do it. Also, I’ll pay whatever needs to be paid to rush lab work. I’ll pay whatever.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That can be quite costly, and it does nothing but move the paperwork a little bit further. Once all is done, an executive panel makes the final decision.”
“Like I said, whatever needs to be done. Whatever they need.”
“All right,” he said, nodding, making me feel like I was accomplishing something, doing anything other than nothing.
“Also,” I added, “I don’t want Cricket or her family to know about it. I’d like it to be anonymous.”
“Won’t they think it’s suspicious that you are gone or missing during her surgery and recovery?”
“I just meant, Cricket doesn’t find out until after the surgery and her family doesn’t find out until the day of.”
He furrowed his brows once more. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
A week and a half of secret lab work, tests and evaluations, and I was done with my part. I was done with all I could do and the waiting for the results was daunting. I was told that even if I was a match, the executive panel still made the final decision and sometimes they didn’t approve, which infuriated me to no end.
Every day and every night I spent with Cricket. The nurses let me shower in her room and took care of me as if I was another patient, which I appreciated more than they could know. I bought them lunch one afternoon and you would have thought I’d given them a million dollars. They were so grateful, which shamed me knowing I could have done just that.
But I didn’t know what Cricket was going to need later, and I wanted to save every penny just in case.
I’d discovered that when the most precious thing in your life could slip through your fingers, investments, money, those things suddenly meant absolutely jack. All I could focus on was keeping her alive and with me, damn the cost or the consequences.
I was asleep in my chair on the morning of the eleventh day when I was woken by shrill beeping and loud voices. I bounded up and took in my surroundings.
“She’s flatlining,” I heard a nurse’s voice echo through the room as she flipped on the light.
I fell into the wall behind me as six more people entered the room, including Dr. Caldwell. I watched them all work, calling out orders and performing chest compressions.
My hands clasped on my chest and I begged God to help her, begged Him to give us just a little bit more time. I knew it was selfish, but I hadn’t gotten to live with her at my side yet. A day of normal life with her felt too little, too brief. Tears cascaded down my face as their movements turned exaggerated, slow.
I hadn’t gotten to show her His world yet. I hadn’t gotten to give her the moon or the stars or a ring. I hadn’t gotten to marry her, have a honeymoon or children with her. I hadn’t gotten to experience life yet and I couldn’t see a life without her. I didn’t want to know a life without her.
I knew I was young, we were young, but it didn’t matter to me. When you know, you know. I knew Caroline Hunt was supposed to grow old with me. I foresaw nothing but misery without her.
Life on Earth is fleeting. It’s a gift, but when God wants you, He will take you. It’s not meant to be a punishment...Cricket’s words hung in the air above me like a tangible weight.
I nodded, ready for whatever God wanted. “I won’t question you,” I told Him. “I accept it, always.”
And then a beep rang through the room, indicating her heart was beating. She was alive, barely, but she was alive. I thanked God and sat against the wall, waiting as they stabilized her, intubated her and hooked her to a ventilator.
When most everyone was out of the room, except for her personal nurse and Dr. Caldwell, I finally spoke.
“What happened?”
“Her body is starting to shut down, Spencer.”
I nodded.
“Can you still operate? If I’m a match, can you still operate on her in this condition?”
“It’s riskier but yes, it’s her best bet at life.”
Again, I nodded. Words were escaping me.
“When do I find out if I’m a match?”
“The panel meets this afternoon. We should have an answer then.”
“Good,” I said, tired beyond belief.
The nurse and Dr. Caldwell left me with her, and I finally used that time to break down. I buried my face in her limp palm, kissed the top of her hand and memorized every pore. I spoke into her ear, not sure if she could hear me, but I did it anyway.
“I love you, Caroline Hunt.”
I sat back down and breathed deeply, resting my head by her leg and keeping my hands on her skin. I just wanted to be near her. I just wanted to save her, and I couldn’t do that by myself.