Free The Donor by Nikki Rae Page A

around my middle and he tucked my head under his. Jonah was still asleep, but it was good to be near him, even if he didn't know I was there. I knew it was the last time I would be this close to him and I took advantage of it.
     
    ***
     
    My phone buzzes in my pocket and I'm too afraid to look. I'd rather watch the snow floating outside the window. I don't want to be reminded of what I'm leaving behind, what I may never see again. It could be Mom or Dad, asking where I am. I imagine coming home to our trailer, warm from the California sunshine, and sitting down with them in the living room. They ask me how my trip was. I tell them how many colleges I saw and how many options I have. I tell them how excited I am for the future and all that I'll learn.
    Then we hug and go on with our lives. Working, paying bills, surviving.
    It might be Gina, asking me how my trip really was, or when I'll be back to work. I imagine sitting in the break room at lunch with her, a scarf tied around my neck for show. I tell her how it wasn't completely unpleasant. How much money I made. How I'll go back and do it again.
    I force my thoughts away from what’s really happening. There will be time for that yet.
     
    ***
     
    I woke up to Jonah stirring next to me and I didn't move. His hand wrapped tighter around my waist at first, bringing me closer as he buried his nose between my neck and shoulder, inhaling. I pretended, for a fleeting second, that this was a normal relationship. That besides the fact that we were lying on the hard floor, we woke up like this countless times. We slept with no space between our bodies nearly every night, except on the rare occasions we had to be apart for some reason. We were a normal couple and had a normal life.
    It was a nice, warm thought, but it fluttered away before I could catch it.
    At some point, it occurred to me that he was awake, but I still pretended to be asleep. His grip around my waist hesitantly loosened, like he wasn't sure what to do.
    “Casey?” he whispered, still half-asleep. “How did you get on the floor?” He seemed to be asking himself but I answered anyway.
    “You were on the floor first,” I said without turning around. My voice was scratchy and my throat ached.
    Jonah sat up. “I must have fallen asleep.” His voice sounded far away, like I was already gone.
    I slowly sat up too, leaning against the wall across from where he was sitting. We stared at each other for a long time, rubbing the sleep from our eyes.
    I spoke first. “I'm sorry. For what I said about your daughter. It wasn’t right.”
    Jonah blinked a few times, like he had to think about what I was apologizing for. Then he said, “You don't have to be sorry. It was a valid question.”
    I swallowed hard. Not valid enough, apparently. Not enough to keep me in his house and with him.
    “I'm sorry you saw Zoey.”
    It took my muddled mind a few seconds to put the sentence together. Zoey . The image of the girl with expensive shoes flooded my vision and my chest became tight. It was a long time before either of us said anything. Time stretched on between us, ticking by the seconds I didn't have time to lose.
    Jonah opened his mouth to say something at the same time I asked, “When do you want me to leave?”
    A pained look passed over his face, like I had slapped him in the face or punched him in the stomach. “You want to go home?” he asked gently.
    My eyebrows knitted together with sudden anger. “No.” I tried to keep my voice level. “Of course I don't. You're the one who wants me to leave.”
    Jonah shook his head like it would help him put his thoughts in order. I did it for him.
    “My bed is gone, my clothes are packed…the new donor in your living room?” I meant to sound strong but it didn't quite happen. “When were you going to tell me?”
    He stared at me and readjusted himself against the wall, like he wanted to move closer but thought better of it. “Casey,” Jonah said. “I know what it