Silver picked up three cups of coffee on her way to the waiting room. If Lorelei had left, then she’d drink the extra cup. She had no intention of leaving until Fisher woke up. Even that might not be enough. She wanted to talk to him. How they’d left things sucked, and now that all the truths were on the table, maybe they could talk it out. And he could get better.
But, holy crap, there was no reason he would’ve actually changed his mind. She had still lied; she still hadn’t performed his written wishes. She still wasn’t someone he wanted to be around.
A problem for a different time. She’d deal with all of that once he woke up. When she could look into his golden eyes and see the life in him. Once he smiled at her again.
Probably Fisher smiling at Henry was the closest she was going to get, but, hey, a girl could dream.
“Hey.” Silver distributed the cups and took a seat near her friend. She’d expected to interrupt a conversation, but Lorelei and Henry were both on their phones.
“I tried Maisy, but she’s not picking up. I’m sure she’d be here if she could.”
“Thank you.” Silver crossed her leg toward her friend. “Any news?”
“No. We haven’t heard anything.”
“I tried to go see him, but they wouldn’t let me.” Henry pocketed his phone, leaning back in the semi-padded chair, resting his ankle over his knee.
“He must still be unconscious then.” Her gaze dropped to the black liquid that was only making her stomach hurt worse.
Henry’s phone buzzed and drew her attention from the caffeine that was allowing her mind to run too freely. Fisher should’ve been awake by now. The longer he was under, the worse the prognosis.
“Excuse me.” Henry stood with eyebrows knitted together. “This is Hale,” he said as he hurried out of the area.
“How are you doing?” Lorelei leaned in and nudged Silver with her shoulder.
“We were fighting.” She took a deep breath. “I wish we hadn’t been fighting.”
“It’s going to be okay.” Her friend squeezed her knee and gave her the best cheery nod and comforting smile she probably thought Silver would believe.
Silver knew too much about what was at stake to be that optimistic. Not everything was going to be okay even if Fisher was, but her first priority was to make sure he was alive to make that choice.
Henry rushed back into the room, grabbing Silver’s shoulder as he stopped in front of her.
“They matched him with a heart.”
“What?” Silver and Lorelei both stood. “Who did?”
Adrenaline blurred her vision for a second. Fisher hadn’t been on the list upstairs. Unless his match hadn’t been in question. Then they wouldn’t have needed her assistance.
“The people.” Henry held up his phone. “That transplant list. There was a car accident, and one of the people who died was a donor and a good match for Fisher.”
“Oh my God.” Silver’s face heated, and she felt the tears well. “When?” She cleared her throat to speak at her normal volume. “When can they do it?”
“They said that since Fisher can’t sign off, I have to. They’re already talking to the doctor.” Henry’s features were heavy, uncertainty clouding his eyes.
“Are you going to sign?” she asked carefully as Lorelei wrapped her arm around her side and squeezed.
Henry didn’t say anything. He just stared.
“Henry. It’s not good that he still hasn’t regained consciousness. He needs that heart. I’ve seen his file. He won’t live long without it. Even shorter now.”
“Do you know why he made the decision he did?”
It was the one thing she’d set out to do when she showed up at CCH that day. “No.”
“At his last doctor’s appointment, he was told that the chances a transplant would be successful were a little lower.”
“Statistics and doctors can be wrong.” There were no guarantees, but physicians also needed the patient to believe they were going to pull through and get better. Mindset was always important. She could cold-cock the doctor who told Fisher his chances of rejection were a couple points lower.
“Did he tell you about Maggie?”
“Yes, she had a lung transplant, and acute rejection occurred.”
“That’s a very doctorly way of saying she died. They’d finally been handed hope, and everything was going well, and then in an instant she was gone.”
Silver nodded. She’d been attempting not to be crass. Or lose her tempter over the fact that Henry wasn’t chomping at the bit to get Fisher that heart. Hearts didn’t live outside of the body and stay viable for long. Minutes counted.
“Nothing with transplants is guaranteed.” The color was draining from her face, her entire body, she just knew it. All hope she held, every little morsel, Henry was stomping on with his size-twelve loafers.
What was up with his best friend? Shouldn’t he want to save Fisher the most?
“I think he’s known he was going to die young for so long that he just stopped living. Actually living.” A smile crooked to one side of Henry’s face, causing a dimple. “That was until you showed up.”
“I want him to live, Henry.” Her voice started to shake, and she paused, regaining her composure. She wanted to make the decision. Give her the form, she’d sign it. It took all of her willpower not to scream, “Sign the damn paper and get Fisher that heart!” But she couldn’t make that decision. Henry knew him best. Fisher had given the decision to Henry. Not her.
“If you truly believe that Fisher doesn’t want a heart,” she continued, “that he really is happy and at peace with his decision, then I’m not going to try to change your mind or get in your way.”