Chapter Two
“Jake?” I whispered and swayed on my feet.
I hadn't made it past the doorway of his hospital room—just stood there, bracing myself against the frame. Because Jake was out of bed. Dressed. Packing his bag. And he looked amazing. Not just healthy. He glowed. His dark skin was back to its pre-cancer polish, with amber undertones enhanced by a flush on his high cheekbones and across his full lips. The mix of his Nigerian and African-American heritage had created a movie-star face enhanced by long-lashed brown eyes flecked with gold. That face had been haggard and sunken just a day ago. But this morning, it was filled in—the bags under his eyes and his hollow cheeks gone. His body had likewise shown signs of giving up, his bulk diminished to almost skeletal proportions. But now, his biceps strained the sleeves of his T-shirt.
What the actual fuck?
Jake looked up. For a second, it was as if he didn't recognize me, but then his eyes cleared, and he grinned. “Indie!” He dropped whatever he'd been holding and opened his arms.
“Jake!” I burst into tears as I ran into his arms. “How are you . . . what happened?!” I squeezed him tightly, praying this wasn't a dream. Oh, God, don't do this to me. Don't tease me with a miracle only to wake me up with a screeching alarm.
“Indie,” he murmured and nestled his face into my hair as he used to. “Oh, fuck, Indie. You will not believe this.” He leaned back to meet my stare. “Jackie brought this man to me. He said he was God and that he could heal me.”
“What?” I blinked, trying to process the crazy turn my dream was taking.
“I know.” Jake stepped back and held his hands up as if in surrender. “I thought it was a fucked up joke or maybe she'd been conned. But then he healed me, Indie. He fucking healed me. Look at me!” He held his arms out. “I'm back, girl!” He picked me up and spun me in a circle.
I didn't laugh as I used to when he did this. I was too shocked. And drained. Numb. When he put me down, I just stared at him. Then I reached up and touched his cheek. “Is this real?”
Jake grinned, his eyes brightening with love and mischief. “It's real, sweetheart. Silas is real.” He glanced behind me, then refocused on me. “The doctors have confirmed it. The cancer is gone. I'm good as new. But they won't let me out of here.” He grinned.
“No, Jake,” I said firmly, then swayed.
“Indigo!” He caught me and helped me sit down on the bed. “I'm sorry. I know this is a shock.”
“A shock? You were dying . Now, you're . . .” I smoothed my hair, suddenly nervous about the way I looked.
I used to go in for highlights that made my dark blonde hair really shine, but I hadn't been to a salon since Jake got sick. Nothing about me shone. I was a dull mess. Next to Jake's vibrant self, I probably looked like the sick one.
“I know. It took me some time to process it too. But now I want to get out of here. Indie, I can't stay here a second longer. And I know you want to leave this place behind too. Let's go. Come on. Help me sneak out.”
“Sneak out?!” I hissed. “You can't do that. What if this is temporary? You could be experiencing some kind of an odd surge of health before you . . .” I trailed off, then said, “They need to clear you first.”
Jake went serious. “If this is temporary, then that's all the more reason to get gone. I need this, Indie. Please.”
I sighed and stroked Jake's cheek again. Then I ran my hand back to his head. His hair was growing in. He'd lost it all during chemo and it never grew back. But there was hair on his head now. In a fucking day! Funny, but that's what convinced me. The hair. It wouldn't have regrown if this was just temporary. Or at least, that's what I told myself. I guess if you really want to believe something, you'll find the reasons to.
“All right.” I smiled, then joy burst inside me and it became a laugh. “Oh, my God!” I stood up and pulled him into another hug. “You're going to live! Oh, God, thank you.”
Jake chuckled. “Yeah. Literally, it's thanks to God.”
An odd shiver ran through me at his words, but it was drowned by happiness. I didn't know who this guy was who had healed Jake, but I was certain that he wasn't God. God doesn't make hospital calls. But the man could call himself whatever he wanted if he had truly healed Jake.
I eased back and kissed Jake. Kissed him like I hadn't kissed him in months. Jake groaned and pulled me closer, his hard, big body seeming to consume mine, just close around me like the mouth of a giant beast. Strange imagery, but that's what came to mind. I didn't care. I wanted to be consumed. Anything to take me out of that old, awful reality and into this new, bright one.
The kiss was a little odd too, but I blamed that on the situation and how long it had been since we'd shared such an intimate kiss. Lately, it had been chaste pecks. But this was deep. Real. Soon enough, the awkwardness shifted into something that felt more natural. Jake's lips moved over mine the same way they used to—gently but with a hint of aggression. My head spun, and I had to hold onto his shoulders. But when Jake eased back, and I opened my eyes, the world righted itself around me. Everything went right again—the past, his sickness, all of it. It seemed like a nightmare, one that was fading fast now that I was awake.
“Is it really over?” I asked.
“Yeah, babe.” Jake kissed my forehead. “It's over.”