And Charlie had paid the price.

A terrible, horrific thought bloomed. I didn’t want to even finish it, but it had already whipped through me. I smacked a hand over my mouth, muffling a choked sound.

Would it have been better for him to have not survived?

Oh God, I couldn’t believe I even thought that. It was so wrong. I was a terrible person. But a voice whispered in the back of my head in spite of me telling it to shut up.

Was this really living at all?

That was the question of the century, and as I stood there, I thought about what Reece had said to me about living my life for Charlie. If I wanted to get really deep and reflective, really honest with myself, I knew that some of the decisions I made were because Charlie couldn’t.

And maybe . . . maybe because I . . .

I couldn’t finish that thought either.

Helplessness unfurled in the pit of my stomach. Nurse Venter had explained when I had checked in that they were still having difficulty getting Charlie to eat enough during the day. She’d given me a bowl of mashed potatoes, something he’d normally eat, but I had spent the better part of our visit trying to get him to eat it to no avail. If it continued, they’d bring in a feeding tube, probably before the end of the weekend, and he hadn’t been a fan of that. Last time, he’d managed to pull it out and ended up having to be restrained. There was nothing I could do to really help him, but I had to try.

I picked up the bowl and plastic spoon, scooping up some of the lumpy white stuff. As soon as the spoon neared his face, he twisted away. I didn’t get it. He wouldn’t acknowledge me, but he’d turned his face from food. Ten minutes of this went on before I placed the bowl on the small table by his chair.

Slipping between his chair and the window, I knelt in front of him. “I need you to do something for me, Charlie.” Our eyes connected, and it was like a punch to the stomach, because even though he was looking at me, he didn’t see me. Emotion clogged my throat. “I need you to eat, okay? When they bring you dinner tonight, you need to eat.”

Not a single flicker of emotion crossed his blank expression.

“If you don’t, they’re going to use a feeding tube. Remember how you hated that before?” I tried again, reaching up and cupping his cheeks. He flinched, but nothing more. “So, please eat, Charlie.”

I kissed his forehead as I rose. “I’ll be back Friday, sweetheart.”

Nurse Venter waited for me outside. Her dark hair, liberally streaked with gray, was pulled back in a hasty bun. I figured she was waiting to see if there had been any change in Charlie’s behavior.

“He’s the same way he’s been for the last month,” I told her as I started down the wide corridor. “I couldn’t get him to eat the mashed potatoes. Totally don’t get it. He hasn’t been responding to me at all, but he sure as hell responds when a spoon gets near him.”