I keep zoning out. I just keep replaying in my mind what had happened at the doctors appointment this morning trying to remember the exact wording he used. Grayson's been on edge the past few days and the most he's said to me was brief words in passing, telling me to bring him a file or to schedule an appointment.

I can't focus. My mind is going a mile a minute. I want-no need to talk to my dad. I push myself up from the desk feeling how light headed I'm getting. Thankfully, my tears are held at bay until I get into the ladies restroom.

They come with a flood once the door shuts and I try to take a staggered breath. I need to calm down. But how do you calm down when you have the prognosis I have.

I dial the number from memory and thankfully my dad picks up immediately, "Lacey! I've been waiting to hear from you since Ruth got back home."

I sniffle trying to pull myself together, "Dad, I don't know what to do."

"What's wrong honey?"

I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, but I don't know how to make myself better. I can't. "I need a transplant," I whisper quietly for the first time ever.

"You need to come home," He says gently and I shake my head regardless of the fact he can't see me. "You need to come home so we can take care of you before..."

"Before I die. That's what you were going to say."

Dad falls quiet and more tears slip down my cheeks. I wipe them away angrily because this isn't fair. The extra tests today confirmed what my doctor suspected at the appointment Ruth went to.

"Please. Please come home."

"Dad, I can't. I have a life here. My doctors are here." I protest weakly because I should want to go home. I should want to be around my parents in the time I have left. Around Ruth. But I can't go back to Bristol to die. I'm not the same girl I was when I left.

"How long?"

I close my eyes and sink to the floor leaning against the wall. This is the worst place to be making this phone call. "Without the transplant I won't make it past May. Dr. Odell said the chances of me getting a heart are slim because of my blood type."

"We'll come to you. We can stay there with you until there's a donor. We can-"

"No. No Dad. We've known this would happened eventually. I still have time. I have a chance. It's not time to panic yet." I manage to say it without bursting into tears. But just because I don't doesn't mean I can't hear the soft sobs coming from his end of the phone.

He coughs trying to hide it, "For a weekend then. We'll come up this weekend and meet all your friends."

"I love you."

"I love you more. Don't forget it."

"I won't. I'll see you Friday?" Honestly I'm glad they're going to come here. I want to show them everything, have them meet the people I've grown to love. I want them to understand why I don't want to go back to Bristol.

Bristol isn't my home anymore, New York is. I need to make the most of it.

After hanging up the phone, I look in the mirror and smile. I'll be okay. I might have red eyes, a stuffy nose, and a damaged heart, but I'm still here. No matter what happens, I'll be okay.

I wipe my eyes and I know what comes next.

I step out of the bathroom and I walk past everyone, straight into Grayson's office. "I need a lawyer."

His head shoots up immediately, "What do you mean you need a lawyer? What did you do?"

"It's not what I did, it's what's going to happen. How much will this cost?"

"I don't understand? Lacey what is going on? Are you in some kind of trouble or..." Grayson trails off waiting for me to fill in the blank and I sit down across from him.

"What is your rate?"

He sighs and shakes his head, "I require a two thousand dollar retainer, but I'll help you for three hundred because I have a feeling that you're going to refuse any free legal advice. I don't want your money."

"I don't want the discount. I'll pay the original retainer fee. Will you be my lawyer?" I ask bluntly and Grayson nods shortly. "I need to write a will that is legally binding."

He gapes at me in shock, "I'm not taking two thousand dollars from you to write up a will that won't be valid for the next forty years. You're twenty-three. What could you possibly need a will for?"

"I have a rare heart condition called hypoplastic left heart syndrome. It's typically a death sentence but most that survive birth are dead by the age of five. I've lived nineteen years past my original death date. I have had five open heart surgeries and now I need a heart transplant I'm probably not going to survive long enough to get. I need a will that has all my affairs in order because I don't want my parents to have to worry." I say it strongly trying not to tear up again, but it feels good to tell someone here. I feel better already about declining the job offer he gave me. Now he knows why.

Attorney-client privilege. Grayson can't tell anyone. But, I also think I broke Grayson.

He just keeps staring at me without blinking. "Uh Grayson?"

"What the fuck? Is this some sick joke?" He demands, sitting up straighter in his chair.

I chuckle lightly, "I wish it was. I'm serious right now." I probably shouldn't be laughing since I was just crying in the bathroom five minutes ago. "I'll answer any question that you have on the condition that you tell no one."

"Does Dean know?" He asks immediately and I shake my head. It's not fair to not tell him, I know. I don't need Grayson to tell me that. Grayson leans over and pulls out a bottle of whiskey from one of his drawers and two glasses, "Does anyone know?"

"You're the first person I've told in New York. My family found out about the transplant as of seven minutes ago and I found out this morning at my doctors appointment. We've all known it's been borrowed time anyway." I say as he pours a decent amount of the amber liquid in his glass and then in the one I'm assuming is intended for me.

"Why keep it a secret?" He probably doesn't even realize the way he's looking at me. Grayson has pity on his face and a concoction of a hundred other emotions. The pity stands out the most.

I shrug, "Because I don't want everyone to look at me the way you're looking at me now. Back in Bristol, everyone knew. I was Lacey Edwards the girl who lived longer than she was supposed to. Here? I can be anything and no one second guesses me."

He takes a long drink and I feel bad. I probably shouldn't be dumping all of this on him. "Is this why you turned down the job offer?"

"You asked a few days after I saw my doctor and he warned me where this was heading. The repeat tests today have already shown a decline from my tests two weeks ago. They gave me until May to early June without a transplant." I feel like a robot telling him all of this. I need to be a robot because the alternative is crying. I don't want to cry anymore.

"I'm sorry Lacey," Grayson says solemnly and I push all the fear inside of me away so I can smile back at him. "I won't tell anyone, but as your lawyer, I strongly suggest you tell Dean."

"He's got enough on his plate. I'll tell him. Just not quite yet." Not after the state he was in last weekend. Dean fell asleep while I held him and he's been doing slightly better since then. I have decided that I don't like when he drinks. Dean says mean things when he drinks and I don't want to have to deal with that again.

"You should take the day off. I wouldn't have had you come in if I'd known. I also forgot to tell you that Tessa and I are going to Italy in a few days so there's no need to come in then either."

I push myself up out of the chair, ignoring the faint feeling that washes over me. "Thanks Gray." I'm not quite sure what all needs to be said after having a conversation about me dying, but I do know a thank you is in order. He doesn't have to help me, but I appreciate it more than he knows.

It's an abnormally warm day for the end of February. My heavy coat really isn't needed, but the constant chill in my bones requires it. I'm cold all the time and I know it's because of my poor circulation. Probably doesn't help that I moved to the wrong area of the country if I wanted to be warm.

I walk around and think of the things left on my bucket list. Sky diving, owning a pet, get a tattoo, go on a cruise, swim with pink dolphins, travel Europe, fall in love. The list was meant to be left open ended so that Ruth could finish it. I want Ruth to live her life and the bucket list is my way of making sure she does that.

Moving to New York was one of the few that I've been able to convince myself to cross off. I could do another one, it wouldn't be hard to do one of the easier ones. Maybe something that could help cheer Dean up too.

Before I know it, I'm calling him and his oh so pleasant voice answers, "Hello."

"Well hello to you too Grumpy. What are you doing?"

Dean sighs, "Trying to nap. What do you want?"

I roll my eyes, "So you're not busy! Great, I'll be at your apartment in ten minutes."

"Shouldn't you be at work right now?"

"Ten minutes Dean. Clothes on, shoes on, teeth brushed, and bring your wallet. We're checking something off the bucket list." I hang up before he can protest. I think this is exactly what he needs and hopefully what I need.

I start the walk towards his apartment, knowing very well that I should take a cab. It'd be easier on me, but it's a beautiful day. I don't want to take the easy way out. I'm still me.

However, I should have. The walk to Dean's winds me more than I'd like to admit. It's only going to get worse from here, I might as well enjoy it while I can.

I knock on the door taking in deep breathes and when he doesn't answer right away, I knock again. "Dean I know you're in there."

When Cassidy opens the door, I'm not shocked. She's been staying here since her break up with Maddox, but she actually appears to be doing okay. "Hi Lacey, come in. Dean's almost ready."

"Thanks, what are you up to today?" I ask trying to keep the conversation easy.

"Cleaning. Dean and Linc are slobs," Cassidy grimaces putting her rubber gloves back on. There's a pillow and blanket on the couch that I'm assuming belong to Dean. I have no doubt he gave up his room to Cassidy. That's the kind of guy he is.

When he finally makes his appearance, the scruff on his face is longer than I've ever seen it. There's shadows under his eyes and I don't see a hint of wit in him. Dean just looks tired. Gotta over compensate for his sadness with as much pep as I can manage.

"Ready to go?"

He grunts a response and grabs his leather jacket off the side of the couch where it was left. Okay so we're not talking. Got it.

Outside, I notice that Dean's car is missing from the spot it usually sits in. "Where's your car?"

Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets, "I got rid of it. I don't want it." Right, the car was from Maddox.

"Any guesses on what we're doing today?" I ask trying to lighten the mood. I really need to lighten the mood after the day I've had.

His dark hair is ruffled by a breeze and he gives me a bored look. "What are we doing?"

I loop my arm with his so he has no chance of running back into the apartment. "We are fostering a dog."