One Past Midnight

by Jessica Shirvington

  And I planned to help him too.

  Whatever it was he felt he couldn’t tell me, he’d now be able to. I’d made my decision—the way he’d told me I needed to—and now there was no reason for him to keep his secret from me.

  Denise was sitting on one of the half-sunken sofas. When I came in she stood up, then clutched me in a warm embrace.

  “How are you?”

  “Actually, I’m good,” I confessed. “I didn’t agree with Mom and Dad sending me here at first, but I think in the end, coming here was exactly what I needed.” It had brought me to Ethan after all.

  She nodded, encouraged. “That’s great, honey. I felt terrible about having to tell your parents about the stock.” She looked down and I grabbed her hands in mine.

  “Denise, don’t apologize for caring. It was a stupid thing to do and I should never have done it.”

  At this she breathed a sigh of relief. “So, tell me about the place?”

  I settled into my own uncomfortable seat beside her and smiled. “Well, it’s like being in prison, and a few of the nurses hate me.”

  “Let me guess, you weren’t exactly cooperative to start?”

  I laughed. “Kind of. But Levi is okay—”

  She cut me off. “Levi?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Dr. Levi. He does most of my sessions.”

  She nodded. “Dr. Levi is a very well-respected psychi-atrist. I passed him on the way in—he’s had a tough couple of days.”

  I was smiling now, wanting to move onto a better subject. “And then Ethan has been helping out in the evenings.”

  Her eyes dropped nervously.

  “Denise, are you okay?”

  “Yes, honey. I just . . . Have you spent a lot of time with Ethan?” she asked.

  I swallowed, not wanting to get him into trouble. “Yeah. He, um . . . He’s been a big help. I guess he’s the reason I realized I needed to get better.”

  “Sabine, did Ethan tell you much about himself? I mean, did he tell you . . . ?” She seemed to be at a loss.

  I looked at her blankly. “What? Did he tell me what?”

  “He . . . I . . . Oh, Sabine. Maybe we should get Dr. Levi to explain this. Hang on.” She stood up and quickly walked out of the room.

  I sat there waiting, wondering what all the fuss was about. Did they know about Ethan and me? We’d never been caught sneaking out, never given anything away, no one had ever seen us together. I knew Ethan wouldn’t have told anyone, as much for my protection as anything else.

  When Levi came in with Denise, I noticed he was still in regular clothes and looked uncharacteristically disheveled and unshaved.

  “Sabine, hello. How are you today?” Dr. Levi asked, sitting on the low coffee table opposite me.

  “Fine. Good, actually. What’s going on?” I asked quickly, looking from one to the other.

  “I . . . I’m afraid we . . .”

  Was he tearing up?

  “Sabine, I know you grew close to Ethan in your first few days here, and I imagine you’ve been wondering why he hasn’t been able to visit you over the past week, but—”

  I cut him off, shaking my head. “What do you mean past week? I know he wasn’t here yesterday, but I saw him Monday night and . . . ,” I trailed off.

  Levi gave me an odd look. “How often did you see

  Ethan, exactly?”

  “I . . . I’ve seen him every night, except for the weekend. Why?” I had a horrible feeling and the look on Dr. Levi’s face did nothing to alleviate my fears.

  He dropped his head, leaning over his knees. “He obvi-ously cared for you greatly.”

  “What are you . . . ? What do you mean cared for me?” I looked around urgently. “Where is he? Why wasn’t he at work last night? Did someone fire him?”

  Oh my God, if they’d fired him—how would I ever see him?

  Levi sighed. “Of course no one fired him. Sabine, did Ethan ever mention to you that he lived here, at the hospital?”

  I shook my head. “No. Why would he live here?”

  “He stayed on one of the other floors so he could be monitored. Ethan was sick.”

  “What are you . . . ? He told me he gets headaches. Is that why?”

  “It wasn’t headaches, Sabine. Ethan was very unwell. To be honest, I thought he would’ve told you. He had Hodgkin’s lymphoma, stage four. He tried everything: radiation, chemo. But when the bone marrow transplant failed, treatment became . . . impossible. He insisted that he keep working and we . . . I let him, thinking it would be good for him. In return he agreed to stay upstairs instead of at his apartment by himself so we could at least monitor him and try to make things more comfortable. Last week he . . . he took a turn and was ordered to rest. He was also told to stop all work-related activities. To be honest, he seemed so determined to keep fighting it that . . . I thought he still had more time, but it wasn’t to be. No one knew he was sneaking down here to see you.”

  I wanted to argue, explain that he was supposed to be there, that he was working. But I couldn’t think of one person who’d seen us together apart from in those first few days.

  This was his secret.

  I could see my hands shaking, but I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel anything. I had to get to him.

  “Where is he? I have to see him!” I choked on the words. Denise dropped to her knees beside me, clutching my hands.

  “I’m sorry, Sabine. The cancer had spread into his bones and lungs. Ethan passed away on Monday. The doctors said it was remarkably peaceful, no sign of any pain. They said his body held on for longer than anyone had expected, longer than anyone believed possible, but in the end it just shut down.” I watched the tears streaming down Levi’s face. Denise was crying too.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  All his words played back. All the things I’d been too blind to see. Too selfish.

  Not me.

  I like the idea that there’s more to life. You know, we go on.

  There are things I want to tell you, things you need to know.

  I was sure I’d never have this.

  Please, forgive me, but . . . I love you.

  Not me.

  I didn’t realize I was the one making the awful wailing noise, thrashing about. I felt so removed from everything—as if I were watching it all unfold from some distant hell as my heart broke into pieces that would never be mended. But it was me and the needles came and went. Eventually the screaming stopped and my eyes were forced to close, two words repeating over and over in my tortured mind.

  Not him.

  Not him.

  Not him.

  I was in my hospital bed, suddenly awake, holding Ryan’s hand. He was staring at me questioningly.

  “Sabine? You okay? Your face . . . You looked so happy and now . . .” He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you okay? Did you see something?”

  It came to me instantly—no blissful moments of reprieve that everyone always talks about, no split-second where he was still alive until I remembered. But the feelings came more slowly, taking what seemed like an excruci-atingly long time to envelop my confused mind. Somehow I knew they’d always be with me, always be strangling me from the inside out.

  “Sabine?” Ryan said again.

  Everything meant nothing.

  I let go of Ryan’s hand. “I’m going to get some sleep, Ryan. It might be best if you go.”

  I didn’t wait for his response, just rolled over, wishing that the drugs they were pumping into me could help with the most horrible pain imaginable.

  In the morning people came and went, but I was numb. Mom and Dad visited. I didn’t move from my curled-up position all day, and into the night. The doctors assumed it was a reaction to what Dex had done. I let them.

  None of it mattered. Ethan was gone.

  I drifted in and out of sleep. Eventually I must have shifted, because the next time I woke up, I was groggy and coming to, back in my room at the Roxbury Clinic.

  Mom was sitting
in the armchair. It must have been late in the day.

  Tears were streaming down my face before I’d even opened my eyes. I wondered if I’d cried all through the sedation.

  “Sabine? Denise called me. She . . . she told me about the young man who worked here and passed away. She said he’d helped you and that you’d become close. We used to see Ethan at the store; he was always very nice. I’m sorry, Sabine.”

  I was an empty shell. On some level I wanted to be angry with Mom, to blame her and Dad for doing this to me. I wanted to lash out and tell everyone that he didn’t just help me. That he loved me, and I loved him. But it was useless. The thing I wanted most, I would never have.

  Finally Mom left me, patting my hand like I was some lame animal, telling me she’d be back soon. Once I was sure I was alone, I pushed the armchair up against my door and dug underneath my mattress, pulling out the bag of supplies I’d taken from the drugstore. I emptied the contents onto my bed.

  I was determined to get back at him. Just when I thought he hadn’t been playing tricks on me, he’d proved me wrong. There I’d been in his arms, committing to a life I’d thought would be with him, and all the while he’d been saying good-bye to his own life.

  Shit.

  “Damn you, Ethan. How could you leave me? How could you make me want to stay and then . . . just leave me behind!”

  My hands shook as I picked up the first box of pills and popped the contents onto the bed. It would be so easy to take them and then start screaming again. The doctors would come back in and put me under. With any luck I’d never wake up again. I wouldn’t have to go through any more pain, wouldn’t have to live in this world another moment without him, remember how much I wanted him.

  I cupped the pills in my hand, letting them fall through my fingers before doing it again. Wherever he’d gone, maybe I could go with him?

  But the minutes passed and still I couldn’t take the pills. I kept thinking of Maddie. If I did this, I’d be leaving her just like he’d left me.

  “What have you done to me?” I cried.

  Because as much as I didn’t want to, I could hear all the things Ethan had tried to tell me so clearly. The way he’d said that he only existed because I’d been there to see it.

  He’d been telling me then. I just wasn’t listening. Telling me that my memories of him would make him go on. Was I his only witness?

  Ethan had wanted to live. He’d done everything he could to try to stay here, and when that failed, he’d given all of his hope, all of his life, to me.

  I hated him so much.

  I loved him more.

  I understood now, why he’d liked the idea of my two lives, the idea that we went on. I got it. He’d wanted more, and to him . . . I had it. I shook my head at myself, more tears beginning to stream. No wonder I’d frustrated him so much. I didn’t know how he’d put up with me—and even more, fallen in love with me. I could almost picture him standing there, looking at the pills in my hand and telling me I was being a damn fool—and worse, making him an accessory.

  Ethan had believed I could never know what future one life might offer at any time. He’d made me promise to think about this choice I was making—to consider not only what it would be like to have one life, but what I’d be missing out on if I left my Roxbury world behind. I picked up the pills and shoved them back in the box, half-cursing him, half-missing him more than ever. He was right.

  “Ethan,” I sobbed. “God, I want you back.”

  Leaving this world, this grief, would be easy—but it would stay with me in my other life and what would I have in its place? Would I eventually come to believe this life was a fabrication? That Ethan had never been real? I wouldn’t be able to trust the truth of my memories, and I needed to be able to do that, always. To remember Ethan: his messy heap of hair, his kind, searching eyes, the garden where we’d lain together, the walks we took, the kisses we shared. If I left this world, who would remember everything that was amazing about him, and us?

  I wrapped my arms around my waist, rocking in my ocean of sorrow. I had to hold a pillow to my face to stifle my sobs. Every breath made it worse.

  I had thought death was the answer. I had believed it would be the thing that would give me the world I wanted and needed.

  The worst of it was . . .

  I was right.

  It just wasn’t my death.

  Ethan loved that line in the John Lennon song that said that life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. It was true. I’d been so obsessed with fixing what was broken, I didn’t see all the other things that were going on around me—his illness most of all. I’d known something wasn’t right, but I’d been so caught up in the immediacy of my world, I’d made it too easy for him to keep his secret. I’d thought I was going through something terrible and was angry at him for leaving me alone. All the while it had been him facing his end, alone.

  Dex was another failing. If I’d had my eyes open, I would’ve noticed that my pulling away was triggering his possessive tendencies or even questioned him more about why he never touched alcohol. And maybe I would’ve been honest about my feelings earlier and distanced myself from him. Maybe that night would never have happened . . .

  I wrapped up all the pills and shoved them back under my mattress. Then I stood up only to collapse to the floor a minute later and burst into another bout of gut-wrenching tears.

  Eventually I would have to stop, but not now. Eventually I would go on—for me, for him, for the brief memory of us that meant so much—but behind closed doors there would be a part of me that would cry for him forever.

  The days passed. I tried my best to function, but not a second went by that I didn’t think of him, yearn for just one last touch. Often I would be doing something, thinking I was okay, and then out of nowhere I’d just stop being able to breathe and break down.

  For the first time in my life, the terror of night wasn’t about the Shift. It was all about missing him.

  I went to my sessions with Dr. Levi. He was as professional as always, but he’d changed—aged maybe. Macie seemed to like me a little more for some reason too, or maybe she was just being nice to me as some kind of homage to Ethan.

  I did everything requested of me. Everyone still struggled to understand how I’d suddenly been able to speak in another language. But in the end, like some things must, it went into the can’t-explain basket.

  I saw them all looking at me strangely at times, wondering why I’d had such a horrific reaction to Ethan’s death. They didn’t know. I didn’t tell.

  My memories were for me to carry and hold in my heart.

  “Are you still traveling between your two lives, Sabine?” Dr. Levi asked one morning while he waited for me to take my shot.

  I threw the dart. I was focused. Bull’s-eye.

  “You have met my parents, haven’t you? Sometimes I suppose it was just easier to pretend I belonged somewhere else.”

  “So you were able to influence your other world? Make things the way you wanted them?”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes and shrugged noncommittally. “In the end, things just went too far. I see that now.” I passed him the darts.

  He eyed me suspiciously. “That’s quite a change in viewpoint,” he said, turning his attention to the dartboard, lining up his first shot.

  I nodded. “I guess. The thing is, everything just got out of control. Once I started saying these things, it was hard to go back. One thing just led to another and I got all muddled up in it.”

  He took his shot. Outer rim. He glanced at me sheepishly while I grinned at his poor aim. “But now you’re not? Muddled, that is.”

  “I don’t think this is an overnight thing,” I said, playing the game. “It’s going to take some time to repair the damage I’ve done and gain back my family’s trust. But I’m ready to try.”

  “Did Ethan’s passing have anything to do with your change of heart?” His pretense of a casual approach faltered as he stoppe
d what he was doing and turned to me.

  I wanted to cry just hearing his name. Fold over and scream. But I stood tall and ignored the ache. “I think it might’ve. Life’s too short. If Ethan taught me anything, that would be it. I want to get on with living mine.”

  “Just the one?”

  “I’m just me, Dr. Levi. What you see here is what I am.”

  He seemed satisfied and took another poor shot. I suspected he was losing on purpose. “That’s good to hear, Sabine.”

  “Good enough to get me out of here?” It was worth a try.

  “Not just yet. But soon, Sabine. Soon.”

  I nodded, knowing what that meant. At the end of the session I pulled out a small bag from where I’d tucked it into the waistband of my miniskirt, and held it out to him.

  He took it. “What’s this?”

  “A bad decision.”

  He looked in the bag and saw the pills. “Where did you . . . ?” He looked nervously from the pills to me.

  “Can you give them to Mom and Dad? They’ll be able to check their stock. Every last pill is there.”

  “How did you . . . ?”

  I considered giving him the window key too, but I wasn’t an idiot. Levi had been using that “not yet, but soon,” line on me ever since I’d started cooperating, and I knew it was his way of stalling. A girl needs a backup plan.

  I shrugged. “Do we really need to get into the tech-nicalities? The point is, I don’t want them anymore.” Which was true.

  “Why not just throw them out?”

  “Clean slate,” I reasoned.

  He pursed his lips, confused. I knew the look. It almost made me smile. Yeah, I was a mystery. And as long as he continued to believe that, he wouldn’t figure out I’d simply played the best hand I could with the cards I was holding. It was only a matter of time before inventory reared its ugly head again, and if I hadn’t taken the proactive step to remedy it, then things would’ve blown up in my face for sure. At least this way, I’d controlled it and maybe even earned myself a little extra trust that I was hoping he might extend.