52
Gabi
“How is he doing?” Gui asked.
I glanced to the armchair Tyler had been seated in since we came back from the funeral. He hadn’t moved an inch since. In fact, he had barely moved at all since getting the call from nurse Annie two days ago.
We had immediately left for the hospital—I drove because Tyler was nervous. We got there and the doctor was waiting for us.
“He only has a few hours left,” he said, his tone solemn, dejected.
Thankfully, Charlie woke up long enough to say goodbye to his son. But Tyler’s world blew up after that. The doctor assured us he wasn’t in any pain, but the sixteen hours we spent at the hospital were painful to Tyler. And to me. I hated seeing him suffering like that. I hated not being able to do something to help.
His father died in the middle of th
