desertion

64

MILES

Lydia was curled up against me, her head resting on my chest as I held her close. The hospital waiting room chairs weren't comfortable for anyone, but somehow Lydia had managed to drift off. I wasn't sure how she could sleep like this—my shoulder was already starting to ache—but I didn't dare move. Her quiet snores were the only thing keeping me calm right now.

The silence in the waiting room was broken when Buck spoke up. "When was the last time you guys ate?"

I glanced down at Lydia, brushing a strand of hair from her face before answering. "I ate about two hours ago, but..." I hesitated. "She wouldn't eat."

Chimney let out a heavy sigh. "She needs to start eating. She's not going to get better if she doesn't."

I nodded, my jaw tightening. "I know. I've been trying to help her, but she won't listen to me."

Chimney crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Maybe Eddie should consider taking her to one of those clinics for eating disorders around LA."

Hen nodded thoughtfully. "It might be a good idea... but not right now. She's under so much stress already. Adding that on top of everything else could just make her explode."

Buck cut in, his voice sharp with frustration. "Her not eating is already making it worse. The stress is going to pile up no matter what if she's not taking care of herself."

I looked between them, my brows furrowing. Their conversation didn't add up. Finally, I spoke up. "Wait... how do you know about her eating disorder?"

All three of them froze. Hen's head snapped toward me, her eyes wide with concern. "What do you mean? I didn't know she had one, I mean I know she isn't eating properly, but I really thought it could've been from the medicine."

My face went pale. "Uh... whoops." I glanced away, suddenly feeling the weight of their gazes on me.

"Miles," Chimney said firmly, leaning forward. "Explain."

I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. "I promised I wouldn't."

Buck's expression hardened. "Has she had an eating disorder before?"

I exhaled heavily, realizing there was no way out of this. I looked down at Lydia, still asleep as her head rested against my chest, before I started talking. "Yeah... she told me. She said it started with her grandparents. They used to make comments about her body, and it just... got to her. She started starving herself to feel like she had control. And..." I paused, my throat tightening. "She used to self-harm too."

The air in the room shifted, the weight of my words settling over us.

"She told me about her suicidal thoughts," I continued, my voice cracking. "There was one time, she had it all planned out. She thought she was saying her last goodbyes, and then Chris... he just walked up out of nowhere. He said he never wanted to lose her. That's what stopped her."

Chimney's mouth dropped open, and Hen's eyes welled up with tears. Buck looked like he'd been punched in the gut.

"How's she doing now?" Buck finally asked, his voice barely audible.

I shrugged, looking away. "I don't know. She doesn't talk to me about it much. I know she was seeing the therapist, like all of us know—and she said it was going well. But then..."

"She had the seizures," Buck finished for him, his tone flat.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. And since then, she hasn't talked to the therapist and it worries me because she hasn't talked to us about anything either."

The room fell silent. The weight of everything I had just revealed hung heavy in the air, none of us knowing what to say.

The stillness was broken when the doctor walked into the waiting room. Everyone's attention shifted immediately, the tension easing just slightly as he started talking about Bobby.

For a moment, it was a distraction from what just came out of my mouth, but just a moment.

It would come back soon.