Roommates with Benefits [18+ only]

64. Money is not a problem

LUKAS

I hate hospitals. So bad. But I couldn't leave Tara alone. Kelly had Kevin, her aunt and uncles had each other, Tara would have remained here struggling with her angst on her own. Hence, I pulled myself together and pushed back every negative emotion hospitals ever made me feel.

Eight years ago I was in her same situation, sitting on an uncomfortable armchair, waiting endlessly while trying hard not to be swallowed by thoughts on worst case scenarios.

My outcome was as bas as it could have possibly been, but this was a different situation, I held some hopes. Nowadays, heart surgeries are pretty advanced, even when carried out on an 80-year-old woman, it should not lead to the worst. Or so I hoped.

Days like this, I envy people that have faith. Like Tara, for instance. We were sitting in a corner and I could hear her mumbling words that even a mind like mine, not used to Sunday school and whatnot, registered as prayers.

She held my hand in a tight grip, face hidden in my chest, not sure whether it was because she didn't want me or others to hear her mumble to herself, or because she simply felt more comfortable that way.

I did my best to shield her from everyone else anyway, making sure she had all the privacy she wanted without leaving the room. She always says she doesn't practice, but in moments like this, it's hard not to take refuge in some omniscient and omnipotent superior entity.

I placed a small kiss on top of Tara's hair, which seemed to distract her, cutting off her prayers. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, voice muffled by my chest and cracked by unshed tears, "I sound crazy."

"Not at all," I kissed her temple, "I can pray with you if you want. I don't know the words, but I'll just follow your lead."

That offer seemed to make her smile the slightest. "That's nice of you, thanks."

"I'm always here, baby, you know that." I gave her one more kiss on her temple. "Whatever you need right now, I'm here."

"And I appreciate it. But ... faith is a very personal thing for me." Tara explained. "It's between me and God and nobody else."

"I think there's a chapel somewhere on the ground floor, do you want to go there?"

She sank more into our embrace but raised her head to look at me. The tears pooling in her eyes were heartbreaking. Tara gave me one of her sweet yet fragile smiles, the ones she lets me only see, the ones that show her rawest emotions and vulnerabilities. "This is the safest and most comfortable place for me. In your arms."

I wonder if she felt my heart skip a few beats at her words. I gave her a small smile and kissed her forehead, pulling her, if possible, even closer to me. I almost forgot we were in a hospital, waiting for her grandmother's heart surgery to be done. Hell, I even forgot my own hatred for hospitals. All I could think about was how bad I wanted to live the rest of my life with and for her.

🔥🔥🔥

"Granny never lost her faith." Tara mentioned in a sigh as we looked outside the window.

Her cousins had gone out to eat something, her uncles and aunt were by the vending machine drinking coffee, Kevin had brought Kelly outside, so that she could get some fresh air. We were merely standing by the window, I had my arms wrapped around Tara from behind, my chin on her shoulder, our hands entwined.

"She's a strong woman."

"She's been through a lot," Tara mentioned, her voice broken by unshed tears, "yet she never once wavered." She smiled a bit sadly. "You'd think that, such a liberal woman that fought hard against patriarchy wouldn't be so devout to one of the most sexist institutions such as Catholic Church." She mused. "We always had debates about this, but in the end she said it was like science and faith: they don't necessarily exclude each other."