Clementine As Liam lay in bed, pale and covered in a cold sweat, I had a horrible sense of déjà vu. There was no smell of chemo, no impending death, but the feeling was the same. The first time I watched someone I loved dying I couldn’t do anything about it. This time, I would do everything I could to save him. My arm still hurt from where I shoved the central venous cannula into my vein, almost piercing through the other side. That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that Liam needed blood, and I needed to give it to him. All of it if that’s what it was going to take. After he was stitched up, placed into our bed, and hooked up to monitors, my dad suggested that I have a shower. I had shaken my head vehemently in refusal. I couldn’t leave him. What if I was showering and he– Dad, unfortunately, didn’t take no for an answer. I stepped into the enormous ensuite but left the door open a crack so I could hear what was going on in the bedroom. Circe’s possessive side had come thr
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