Chapter 39When I return to Steve’s room, he is back in bed, hooked up to IVs.
I inch around the bed to his side. “I’m sorry,” I say, sitting, feeling the weight of the moment, shouldering me down into the chair.
He doesn’t speak right away. He gathers himself, reaches for a tissue, and blows his nose.
I try to console him, but my words are meaningless. “I was going to tell you.”
“I can’t believe Doug is dead.”
My head falls in front of me. “I’m sorry, Steve. I truly am.”
“Stop saying that.” He turns to me, sniffles, crumples the tissue, and tosses it into the trash. “Doug was my friend.”
“I know.”
“To hear it from my boss is unacceptable.”
“I know you’re angry.”
He huffs. “That’s an understatement.”
“It wasn’t the right time for me to tell you—”
“When would’ve been the right ti
