Page 75 of A Wish for Us

Easton sagged against the wall, and I looked at him. Really looked at him. Where the colors around him were once bright, a rainbow of neon, now there were only blacks and grays and navy blues.

“She’s gonna die,” he said quietly, and his face contorted in sadness. I could feel the waves of fear pulsing from his body. His eyes fell on me, but I could tell he wasn’t really seeing me. “She’s fought it for so long. But it’s finally giving up. Her heart.” He met my eyes. “She’s gonna die.”

“They might get a heart for her.”

Easton laughed, no humor in his tone. “You know how rare it is for one to become available? The exact match?” I clenched my jaw when I realized I didn’t. Beyond an internet search, I didn’t know anything. Easton slumped down the wall, completely dejected. “Almost never happens.” I sat on the floor too, leaning against my bed. I licked at my lip, tasting nothing but blood.

“Her body will give up soon,” Easton whispered. His eyes were haunted; it was the only way to describe them. He leaned his head against the wall. “She’s had so many surgeries throughout the years.” He shook his head. “I thought she was getting better. I thought…”

“The valve started to fail,” I said, telling him what he no doubt already knew.

“What the hell is the world without Bonnie?” My stomach tensed. Because I wouldn’t even let myself think it. A world without Farraday would be…

I shook my head. “She’s strong.” Easton nodded, but I could see he didn’t believe it. “She is.”

“Bonnie’s strong. But her heart isn’t.” His eyes lost focus. The colors around him deepened even further into darkness. It reminded me of his latest paintings. “She can only be as strong as her heart lets her be.” He sighed and ran his hands down his face. “I knew there was something wrong.” I looked at the unfinished painting on his easel. “I could feel that she was lying. Hiding the truth.” He tapped his head. “Twins.”

“She wanted to be as normal as she could.”

Easton’s eyes narrowed on me. “You hated each other.”

“No. Not really.”

He shook his head. “She’s too fragile.” The spark of anger that always waited, ready to strike, in my stomach flared to life at his words. Because I knew this was him warning me off her. But it was too late. He didn’tunderstand me, and he sure as hell didn’t understand me and Bonnie. What we shared. “She doesn’t have the strength to deal with your shit.”

“She needs me. Wants me.”

Easton shut his eyes and just breathed.

“She needs you,” I said, and he tensed. Every muscle in his body pulled tight. “She needs you more than ever.”

“I know,” he said after several strained seconds. I leaned back against my bed. A huge, crushing weight seemed to lie on my shoulders. Easton sat in silence for so long I didn’t think he would speak again. Until he whispered, “She can’t die.”

I looked up at Easton, only to see tears fall down his cheeks. My gut clenched, and I felt the same lump I’d been fighting since yesterday block my throat. Easton’s face crumpled. It was one of the first times I’d ever seen him serious. Right now, he was as serious as death.

“She’s my sister. My twin.” He shook his head. “I can’t, Crom. I can’t be without her.”

My eyes blurred, but I got up and sat beside him. Easton’s head fell forward and his body shook as he cried. I clenched my jaw, not knowing what the hell to do. It felt like my stomach was ripping open when I let Easton’s words sink in.“She can’t die…”

I pushed my tongue against my teeth to keep from falling apart too. Easton’s sobs grew louder, my friend losing it as he sat against the wall. I lifted my arm, letting it hover over him, until I laid it around his shoulder and pulled him to my chest. Easton fell against me. I stared across the room at his unfinished painting. At the black swirls and the turbulent paintbrush strokes.

It was this moment. It was exactly what he was feeling now. He’d known. Known something was wrong with Bonnie, but he hadn’t dared ask. As I stared at the painting, as Easton cried for his twin, I couldn’t help but see Bonnie’s face in my head. Her dark eyes and dark hair. Her pretty face. And her sitting up on that stage, guitar in her hands, violet blue pouring from her mouth. I gasped for breath when pure fear stole all the air in my lungs. Fear that I’d lose her before I truly got the chance to know her. My favorite color ripped from my life. Bonnie taken away before she could leave her fingerprint on the window of the world.

I shook my head, ignoring the damn tear that fell from the corner of my eye. “She won’t die,” I said, gripping Easton tighter. “She won’t die.”

My father’s face flashed into my mind, and with it came the reminder of the void his absence had brought, never to be refilled.

Until Bonnie Farraday walked into my life on a beach in Brighton and started bringing me something I didn’t even know I needed—silver.

Happiness.

Her.

“She won’t die,” I repeated one last time, letting the conviction of those words settle inside me.

Easton lifted his head ten minutes later. He wiped his eyes with his forearm and stared across at his painting. “I need to go see her.” I nodded, and Easton got to his feet.

I moved away from the door and sat on my bed. Easton rocked awkwardly on his feet. He scratched the back of his head. “If you’re in, you gotta be all in.” He took a deep breath. “It’s gonna be rough, and she’s gonna need those who love her around her.” Easton’s eyes bored right into mine, a clear challenge. Then his face softened. “She acts tough. She fights hard. But deep down, Bonn is terrified.” He swallowed, and I felt the lump in my throat thicken. “She doesn’t wanna die, Crom. She has so much fucking life in her that if she were to be taken away now…”