Burning Ice - Chapter 31: Chapter 31

I had been looking forward to our nightly FaceTime call, like I always did. It had become this thing, this part of my day that I didn't even realize I needed until Billie and I started doing it. She'd call me after work, and we'd talk about everything and nothing for hours. It was easy, comforting like we were in sync, even if we weren't always in the same place.
But tonight, something felt off. She hadn't called. I checked the time. It wasn't that late yet, and I'd been waiting, as usual, for that little ding that let me know she was on the other end, ready to pick up where we'd left off. But nothing.
I glanced at my phone again, tapping the screen. Still nothing.
I knew she had a busy schedule, just like me, but this was different. Billie was usually pretty consistent with our calls. I couldn't help but feel a little concerned. Maybe she was just caught up in something, but I had to check.
I hit the call button, watching as it rang, my thumb drumming against the edge of the phone. Still nothing.
I didn't want to panic, but... I felt a strange knot settle in my stomach.
I tried again, tapping the screen with a little more urgency, and this time, after a few rings, I heard the click of the connection.
But it wasn't Billie's usual greeting.
I could barely make out her voice through the faint sound of background noise, her words choked and shaky.
"Nate..."
"Billie?" My chest tightened as her voice broke through the line, and I sat up straighter. "Hey, what's going on? You okay?"
There was a pause, the sounds of muffled crying on the other end, and it sent a jolt through me.
"I—I'm at the vet's hospital," she gasped, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "Ted... I found him unresponsive when I got home, Nate. I don't know what happened, I... I can't—I'm so scared."
My heart clenched. Ted was more than just a cat to her. I knew how much that cat meant to her, he was her mom's, the one piece of her that had been a constant since she'd passed. She'd told me about him before, about how much she'd leaned on Ted through everything, how he'd kept her grounded when she felt like she was falling apart.
"Billie..." My voice softened as I leaned forward, willing her to hear me clearly. "Listen to me. You're at the vet's, right? He's in the right hands. They'll know what to do."
"I don't know, Nate," she whimpered, and I could hear the tears now, raw and uncontrolled. "I can't lose him. I can't do this again. He's all I have left, and I—"
Her words cracked, and I could feel the weight of her fear through the phone, like it was pulling at me, making my own chest ache. I swallowed hard, fighting the rush of frustration that surged up at how powerless I felt.
"Hey," I cut in, trying to keep my voice steady. "You're not alone in this, Billie. Okay? I'm right here, you hear me? I'm right here with you."
There was a pause, but I could hear her steadying herself, even if it was just a little.
"Billie, I'm coming to you. I'm driving over there now," I said before I could second-guess myself. "I don't care if it's late. You don't have to go through this by yourself."
"No, Nate," she protested, her voice still shaky. "You don't have to do that."
"Billie," I said firmly, my heart hammering. "I'm already in this. I'll be there in a little while. Just let me be there with you. I'm not going to let you go through this alone."
There was a long pause, the sound of her breathing heavy but steadying, like she was taking in the offer, like she knew I wasn't going to back down.
"I—okay," she finally whispered. "Okay, Nate. Thank you."
"I'm on my way," I repeated, my resolve firm. "I'll be there soon. Just hang in there, okay? You're doing everything you can for him."
"I'm trying," she said quietly, a small crack in her voice as she added, "I don't want to lose him, Nate."
I wanted to promise her everything would be fine, but I couldn't. What I could do was be there, show up, and be a steady presence while she waited for answers.
"Don't worry," I said softly, the words coming out easier now. "You won't be alone. I'm driving there now, and we'll get through this together."
I hung up the phone, grabbed my keys, and rushed out the door. The drive was a blur, my mind focused entirely on getting to her.
The drive felt like it took forever, but I finally pulled into the parking lot of the vet hospital. Billie had sent me her location, and I'd followed the directions without thinking twice. My stomach twisted with every second that ticked by, and my mind couldn't stop racing. I barely even remembered parking the car as I shoved the door open, my feet already moving toward the entrance of the building.
Inside, I spotted a nurse at the front desk and didn't waste any time.
"I'm looking for Billie Carter" I said, my voice rough from the rush of adrenaline.
She glanced up at me, recognition flickering in her eyes. "Room 3" she said, nodding toward the hallway.
I didn't wait another second. I rushed down the corridor, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the tension in the air, thick with uncertainty. I reached the door to Room 3 and pushed it open without knocking, not bothering with anything other than getting to Billie.
She was sitting on a chair, her arms wrapped around herself, her face tear-streaked, and her eyes red-rimmed. She didn't hear me at first, too wrapped up in her own fear. Her hands were shaking as she wiped at her face, but the moment she saw me, a wave of relief washed over her, and her eyes flickered with something that looked like gratitude and exhaustion all at once.
I didn't say a word. I just crossed the room in two strides and pulled her into me, wrapping my arms around her tightly.
Billie stiffened at first, as if she wasn't sure if she was allowed to lean into me, but I wasn't going to let her pull away. She needed this, she needed me, and I wasn't going anywhere.
"Hey," I whispered, my lips brushing the top of her head. "I'm here. You're not alone."
Her body trembled slightly as she sank into my chest, her breath coming in shaky little sobs. "I just... I don't know what to do, Nate," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I can't lose him. I can't lose him. He's all I have left from my mom. He's all I have..."
I held her tighter, rubbing her back gently as if to reassure her that she wasn't carrying this alone. Her weight on me was like a burden I was more than willing to take on.
"You're not going to lose him, Billie. I swear. He's in the right place, and they're doing everything they can. You're doing everything you can" I said, my voice firm even though I wasn't sure I fully believed my own words. What else could I offer her right now? My presence. My support.
Billie let out a soft sob and nodded, her face buried in my chest, clutching my shirt as if holding on to me was the only thing keeping her grounded. "I just... I can't, Nate. I can't lose him. Not after everything."
I didn't have the right words to ease her pain, but I knew that what she needed most right now was for someone to be there, someone she could rely on. So, I stayed silent for a moment, just holding her, letting her cry it out.
"I'm here, Billie," I murmured again, feeling my heart break for her. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here until you're okay."
She nodded, her breathing slowly becoming more steady, though the tears didn't stop.
I pulled back just enough to look down at her, my hand gently cupping her cheek as I wiped away a few stray tears with my thumb.
"Don't shut me out, okay?" I said quietly, my voice a little more serious now. "You don't have to go through this alone. Let me be here with you. Whatever happens, we'll face it together."
Billie sniffled, but there was a small, almost imperceptible nod. Her gaze met mine, and for a split second, the vulnerability in her eyes was so raw, so real, that it made my chest tighten even more.
"I don't know what I'd do without you" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
I didn't respond right away, just pressing my forehead gently to hers. There was nothing I needed to say right now just that I was here, that I wouldn't leave her to face this alone.
I heard the door open behind me, and I glanced up to see a vet in a white coat step into the room. She gave us both a small, sympathetic smile before addressing Billie.
"Ms. Carter?" she said gently, looking at Billie and then at me. "I'm Dr. Larson. I've been working with Ted. He's stable now, but we'd like to keep him overnight for observation to be sure."
Billie straightened up slightly, though her hands were still trembling. "What does that mean?" she asked, her voice small, almost scared to hear the answer.
Dr. Larson hesitated for a moment, then said, "He's been through quite a bit, but we've managed to stabilize him for now. However, the next twenty-four hours are critical. We'll need to monitor him closely to make sure he's out of danger."
Billie nodded, her eyes brimming with tears again. "How much will that cost?" she asked, her voice quiet, almost like she already knew the answer.
Dr. Larson sighed, and I saw the slight tension in her expression. "It'll be around three thousand dollars for the overnight observation and treatment."
Billie's face immediately drained of color. "Three thousand?" Her voice wavered as she repeated the number. "I—I don't have that kind of money. I can't afford that, Dr. Larson. I just... I just can't."
I saw her shoulders slump, her gaze falling to her lap, her fingers twisting together like she was already mourning the idea of losing Ted. My heart clenched for her, the desperation in her eyes hitting me harder than anything else.
Without thinking, I stepped forward, my voice firm and sure. "I'll pay for it."
Billie whipped her head around to face me, her eyes wide with shock. "Nate, no—no, I can't let you do that. It's too much. I'll figure something out, I—"
"Billie, listen to me" I interrupted, stepping closer and taking her hands in mine. "You're not doing this alone. I don't care what it costs. Ted's not going anywhere. You've been there for me, and I'm here for you. I'll cover it."
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes again, but I could see the hesitation in her. She wanted to argue, to refuse, but there was something in her that knew—knew I wasn't backing down.
"Please, Nate," she said softly, her voice trembling. "This is too much."
I shook my head, squeezing her hands gently. "I want to do this for you. Let me help. I'm not going to let you go through this by yourself."
She stared at me for a moment, her breath coming in little shaky gasps, before she finally nodded, her eyes filling with gratitude—and something else, something I couldn't quite name.
"Okay" she whispered. "Okay, if you're sure."
"I'm sure" I said with complete certainty. "I'm not going anywhere, Billie. We'll get through this together. You and him both."
Dr. Larson nodded, giving us both a small, reassuring smile. "I'll take Ted back for his overnight care now. We'll keep you updated. Thank you for understanding."
Billie let go of my hands, but I could see the gratitude in her eyes, even as the tears continued to fall. She took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself.
I stayed close to Billie, putting an arm around her shoulders, offering her whatever comfort I could. I could tell how much Ted meant to her, and seeing her so vulnerable, so lost in this moment, made my resolve even stronger. I wasn't going anywhere.
"Thank you, Nate" she whispered again, her voice thick with emotion.
I kissed the top of her head gently. "There's nothing to thank me for. I'm here for you, Billie. Always."
A few minutes later, Dr. Larson returned, walking through the door with a gentle smile. "We've got Ted settled in a quiet area for observation. If you'd like, you can see him before you leave."
Billie's face lit up at the mention of Ted's name, and for the first time since we arrived, I saw a small glimmer of hope in her eyes. She turned to me, her voice barely above a whisper. "Want to see him, Nate?"
"Of course" I said, my hand instinctively reaching out to take hers. "Let's go see him."
The vet led us down another hallway, her steps light but purposeful as she guided us to a small room where Ted was resting in a cage, hooked up to an IV and a few monitors. He looked small and vulnerable, but the steady rise and fall of his chest reassured me that he was still hanging on.
Billie's breath hitched when she saw him. She took a step forward, her hand reaching out as if she were afraid to get too close, like she might break him just by touching him. But when Ted's eyes flickered open, his gaze locking on her, she couldn't hold back anymore.
"He's awake" she whispered, her voice thick with relief.
Ted gave a weak meow, his eyes slowly focusing on Billie. She knelt down beside the cage, her fingers gently reaching through the bars to stroke his hairless head.
"I'm here, honey" she said softly, her voice full of warmth and affection. "I'm so sorry you're sick. But I promise, you're going to be okay. We'll get through this."
I stood back for a moment, giving her the space she needed with her cat. It wasn't lost on me how much Ted meant to her, how deeply connected she was to him. He wasn't just her pet—he was a piece of her past, a reminder of her mother, someone she held onto when everything else felt uncertain.
After a few minutes, Billie stood back up, wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. "I don't know what I would've done if I hadn't been able to see him" she whispered, her voice full of emotion.
I stepped forward and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's strong. He's going to make it, Billie."
Billie looked at me then, her face softening, her tears still there, but now mixed with gratitude and relief. "Thank you, again," she said, her voice trembling. "I don't know how to say it, but thank you for being here. For everything."
I leaned in and kissed the top of her head, my hand still resting on her shoulder. "You don't have to thank me. I'm here because I want to be."
She smiled up at me, the kind of smile that reached her eyes, and for a moment, I could see the weight lift from her shoulders. Even if the road ahead wasn't easy, at least she wasn't facing it alone.
Dr. Larson cleared her throat gently, bringing us back to the present. "I'll leave you two alone with Ted for a little while longer. Just let us know if you need anything else."
Billie nodded, her hand still resting on the bars of Ted's cage. "Thank you" she said quietly, not taking her eyes off him.
Once the vet stepped out of the room, I stayed beside Billie, my hand still on her shoulder. We didn't need words right now. Just being there with her and Ted was enough. I could see the relief in her posture, the way her body finally relaxed, even if it was just a little bit.
It wasn't over yet, but things were looking up. Ted was stable, and Billie had me by her side. And for the first time tonight, I felt like maybe we'd both be okay after all.