You're Mine

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ashley

The clock ticked quietly in the corner of the room, only drowned out by the noise of the TV attached to the wall in front of the bed.

I glanced down at my arm, eyes lulling open as I watched the tubes steadily pump drugs into my arm.

New Years was finally here, arriving faster than I had expected it to. Time was certainly dragging on.

My family had all been and gone, sent away with a huff of annoyance- I hated them fussing over me, treating me as an invalid. I am an invalid but still. It's New Years- they shouldn't be stuck in this room watching the shitty ball drop with me.

A nurse pops in- I think her name is Janet- and smiles at me as she takes my vitals. I barely even acknowledge her, every inch of my body burning with pain.

The treatment isn't working.

I know it, everybody goddamn knows it- but everyone refuses to accept, especially my doctors. They want to fight but..

I miss my life outside the hospital. I miss my friends and their lives. Meaningless shopping trips, groceries, TV, cooking, movies..

I can hear the wishing of a new year from the nurse who has finished with me and Janet gives me another smile before slinking back to the hall, disappearing. It's almost midnight.

Every time a new nurse appears in here I wonder how long it is until it isn't a nurse at all, but a journalist. Apparently my story of the illness broke right before Christmas and whilst the hospital is doing their best to keep my room and information protected, you never know who to trust.

"Ash?"

I almost shoot out of the bed, turning to notice Ryan standing at the door staring at me. He looks flushed- cheeks painted red from the cold, hands clasped together as he steps into the room. The clock chimes.

"What are you doing here? The party at Riley and Luke's-"

"I left I-" He paused. "I know your plans."

I froze. How he knew, I wasn't sure- I had been meticulous, only telling few of what I was thinking to do. I hadn't told him yet for fear he'd be angry.

Looking at him now he just seemed..hurt.

"Ryan-"

"No, it's okay." He strode for the bed, pausing above me. My cheeks reddened as he stared- his gaze burning right through me, undoing me. "It's..okay."

"It is?"

"Well no." He swallowed, hard, and sat down on the bed in front of me. "It's not but I can't do anything about it, can I? You're a grown woman. You make you're own choices."

I eyeballed him. "You're unusually calm."

He sat on the bed, reaching his palm towards me. I slipped my hand into his and let out a sigh as our fingers interlaced.

"I'm not. I'm holding it together, because I have some demands." He met my stare. "And questions."

I felt a little sick. "Okay?"

"When are you leaving?"

"In a week or so. I'm completely giving up any and all treatment- even the clinical trial. I don't want to do it anymore."