The Ending I Want

by Samantha Towle

  “I didn’t want us to end at all, but we don’t always get what we want.”

  And I’ve boarded the train to Bitterville.

  She exhales a sad sound. “I wish…” She trails off, her eyes looking away from me.

  It angers and hurts me that she can’t even bring herself to look at me.

  “You wish what, Taylor?” I fold my arms over my chest and make my tone sound impatient, like she’s a bore on my time. But it couldn’t be further from the truth.

  She is the only way I want to spend my time. Every second of every minute of every day with her.

  She is my time.

  Or I wanted her to be.

  Her eyes come back to me, another soft breath leaving her. “Nothing.” She slowly shakes her head. “I wish…nothing.”

  And, because I’m a bastard, I say, “So, we done here?”

  Surprise glitters her eyes. “Yes. I just—”

  “What?” I snap. “What the fuck else do you have left to say?”

  Probably something else to cut my heart open a bit wider. Should I get you the knife to do it with?

  Her eyes shimmer with those tears again.

  And I fucking hate myself.

  She blinks rapidly, clearing her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she exhales quickly. “I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”

  Blade in the chest.

  I stare past her at the door. “Fine. You done?”

  There’s a long pause before she says, “Yes.”

  Her word is soft, and it hurts worse than anything I’ve ever felt before, and I’ve felt pain.

  But, now, we’re done, and I don’t know what to do.

  I called time on this conversation. So, all I can do is walk away.

  But I don’t want to.

  Still, pride has me turning around and walking back over to the bar, taking my seat next to Eddie.

  “Okay?” he asks quietly.

  I pick my beer up and nod. I don’t look at him. I can’t. Because, if I do, I’ll probably fucking cry.

  I take a big mouthful of my beer. It hurts to swallow. Everything hurts. I can’t remember a time I felt this bad. Not even after I found out about my mother.

  I put the glass down, staring into it.

  Taylor’s leaving, and I’m never going to see her again.

  We’re ending on bad words and anger.

  But isn’t that how everything ends? With pain and sadness.

  Is there such a thing as a happy ending? Because, if there is, I’ve never fucking seen one.

  Should I go after her?

  But what good would it do?

  You want her, and she doesn’t want you. End of story.

  And she’s probably gone by now.

  But she might still be here…

  If she’s changed her mind, then she’ll still be here.

  I shouldn’t look.

  But like the masochist I am, I need to know, and I’m turning my head and looking over my shoulder before I can stop myself.

  She’s still here.

  My heart soars for a split second, but then my mind is quickly telling me that something’s wrong.

  She’s standing not far from the exit, faced away from me, her hand tightly gripping the top of a nearby chair. I can see the white of her knuckles from here. Her head lulls forward, and her free hand clutches at it.

  She must be having another one of her headaches.

  I might be hurting and angry and bitter, but I don’t want to see her in pain. I know how bad these headaches can get for her.

  “Taylor,” I call out, as slip off my stool, taking a few steps toward her. “You okay?”

  She doesn’t respond.

  I think she hasn’t heard me, so I part my lips to speak again, but then she turns. It’s a slow turn.

  Her face is pinched in pain. Her hand is still pressed firmly to her head.

  She lifts her eyes to mine. It seems to hurt her to do so.

  Something in her expression makes my heart start to race.

  “Taylor…what’s wrong?” I’m moving toward her.

  She winces, lips pinching. Her eyes close. Then, they open, and it’s like the light in them has been turned off.

  Her lips part and whisper the words, “I’m so sorry, Hunter.”

  And then she just drops to the floor.

  “Taylor!” I run to her, falling to my knees beside her. I pull her into my arms.

  She feels limp.

  Fuck! No!

  Eddie is here in seconds, and he’s in doctor mode.

  “Taylor, honey.” He lifts open one of her eyes by gently pushing her lid up with his thumb, and he shines a light in it. A little torch he got from his pocket. “Taylor? Can you hear me, honey?”

  She doesn’t respond.

  Her eye…it looks…blank.

  No.

  My heart stops.

  Leaning over her, Eddie presses his cheek against her chest.

  Cam falls to his knees beside me. “I called an ambulance. One is on its way.”

  “Is…she…” I stare at Eddie as he lifts his head, the words stuck in my throat.

  “She’s breathing,” he says.

  “Thank God,” Cam says.

  All I can do is exhale as my heart starts back up.

  Eddie picks up her wrist and starts checking her pulse.

  My mouth is dry. “Ed…what’s wrong with her?” My voice sounds small.

  Eddie’s stare meets mine. “I don’t know yet.” He looks back at Taylor and puts his hand to her face. “Taylor, honey, open your eyes for me.”

  Nothing.

  “Come on, Taylor. Wake up, honey. You’re scaring the shit out of Hunter, and you know what a giant pussy he is.” Eddie pats her cheek. “Come on, Taylor. Wake up, and I promise, I’ll buy the next round of drinks. Anything you want.”

  But she’s not waking up. She’s not responding at all.

  “Why isn’t she waking up?” My voice is panicked.

  I’m scared. I’ve never been so afraid in all my life.

  And helpless, so very fucking helpless.

  “I don’t know.” Eddie slowly shakes his head.

  “You don’t know?” I yell. “You’re a fucking doctor! You’re supposed to know! You’re supposed to help her!”

  Knocking his hand from her face, I cup her cheek and turn her face to mine. “Come on, Taylor. Please open your eyes for me, baby. Please.”

  I’ll beg, do whatever is necessary to get her to look at me again.

  Please, Boston, please wake up.

  I need you to be okay.

  But she’s not responding, and I have never felt fear like this before in my life.

  Unadulterated fear.

  “Has she been ill at all recently?” Eddie asks me.

  “No—well, yes. I mean, she gets these headaches from time to time.”

  “What kind of headaches?”

  “I don’t know! Headaches!” My fear is coming out as anger, and it’s directed at Eddie.

  “Do the headaches last for long?” Eddie continues, my anger just brushing over him.

  “No.” I shake my head, frustrated. “Well, yes. I mean, they come out of nowhere. She’s fine one minute, and then bam. They knock her off her feet—literally. One time, she vomited from the pain. But she takes these pills that her doctor gave her, and she’s fine a few minutes later.” I look him in the eyes. “That’s what I thought was happening just before she collapsed. She was clutching her head, like she always does when a headache is coming on.”

  “Liam”—he slowly says my name. There’s caution in his voice, and it scares the shit out of me—“you say her doctor prescribes her these pills?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of pills are they?”

  “I don’t know.” I grit my jaw, frustrated. And she doesn’t have her handbag with her so it’s not like I can check.

  I look back down at her, rubbing my hand over her cheek, patting it.

 
Please, Taylor, please wake up.

  “The headaches—has Taylor ever told you what causes them?” Eddie asks me, that fucking caution back in his voice.

  “She had a brain tumor when she was sixteen,” I say, staring down at her. “She said the headaches are a lingering result of that.” But, as I say those words, as I hear them out loud, coming from my own mouth, it’s like I’m slowly slipping underwater.

  The headaches.

  Her list.

  Things to Do Before I Die.

  Fuck…no.

  I meet Eddie’s eyes, and I see it written there. He thinks…

  Jesus, Taylor.

  No.

  “No,” I say, my eyes filling with tears. I pull her closer to me, holding her close. “It’s not that. It’s not—no.” I firmly shake my head. “If the tumor were back, I would have known. She would have told me.”

  Wouldn’t she?

  “You’re probably right.” He doesn’t mean that. I can hear it in his voice. The dip in his tone. The way he flickers a glance at Cam. The concern in his eyes when he looks back down at Taylor.

  My Taylor.

  I hear the scream of an ambulance siren approaching in the distance.

  “She’s going to be okay,” Cam says to me. His hand touches my shoulder and squeezes.

  I stare blankly at him. Then, I take my eyes back down to Taylor’s beautiful face.

  She looks like she’s sleeping.

  Pain lances through me. I shut my eyes against the onslaught of emotions.

  My mind is running wild with everything she has ever said to me.

  “Babe, you’re rubbing cream onto my arse and singing Bieber’s ‘Sorry.’ Really not sure how to feel about that.”

  “Maybe I am sorry.”

  Sorry. What was she sorry for? The tattoo—back then, I thought that was what it was. But, now, I’m not so sure.

  “I’m sorry. I…I can’t stay with you.”

  “Two weeks. Two weeks, and that was supposed to be it.”

  “You weren’t supposed to fall in love.”

  “Don’t talk about you dying so flippantly. Someone like you is meant to live forever.”

  She wrote a list.

  A list of things to do before she dies.

  Jesus. No.

  Why didn’t you tell me, Taylor? Why?

  She’s sick. She’s dy—

  The thought is like a hole being punched through my chest.

  No, I can’t—I won’t accept this.

  I won’t lose her. Not my Boston.

  Why didn’t I see it before now? I should’ve paid more attention.

  I hate myself in this moment. Really and truly hate myself.

  The pain I’m feeling is like nothing I have ever felt before. It’s unbearable.

  Heartbreakingly fucking unbearable.

  I can’t lose Taylor. I won’t survive it if I do.

  Then, the paramedics are here, and they’re taking her from my arms, laying her flat on the floor. One is checking her over. The other is asking me questions, but I can’t speak. Eddie takes over, answering the questions.

  And then she’s being moved. Put on a stretcher and taken out of the bar.

  Away from me.

  No!

  I try to go with her, but they won’t let me.

  “We’ll follow in my car,” Cam says, pulling me back.

  Then, he and Eddie are guiding me out of the bar and into Cam’s car. We’re following the ambulance where the only woman I’ve ever truly loved lies inside, and she might be dying.

  Dying.

  I shut my eyes.

  Don’t die, Taylor.

  Please don’t die.

  “Taylor Shaw’s family?”

  I’m on my feet and walking over to the doctor who just called out Taylor’s name.

  She looks young, about the same age as Taylor. I know she isn’t though. Because of Eddie, I know how long doctors have to train.

  The doctor looks similar to Taylor. Small, petite, blonde hair—well, except Taylor’s hair is pink now.

  But she could be Taylor.

  Only she couldn’t be. Because there is no one like Taylor.

  She’s one of a kind.

  My one of a kind.

  “How is she?”

  “You’re Taylor’s family?”

  “He’s her brother.” Eddie’s voice comes from behind me, his hand pressing down on my shoulder.

  Immediately, it clicks in my head why he’s said that. They won’t tell me anything unless I’m family.

  She doesn’t have a family anymore.

  But she has me…whether she wants me or not.

  “I’m her brother,” I confirm. “How is she?” The urgency is clear in my voice.

  “I’m Dr. March. I’ve been caring for Taylor since she arrived.”

  “I don’t fucking care what your name is. I want to know how Taylor is.”

  “Liam…” Eddie’s voice is a gentle warning.

  I scrub my hands over my face. “I’m sorry.” I blow out a breath. “I just need to know that she’s okay.”

  I’ve been here for hours with no news at all. With the waiting, fear has built up inside me to the point of explosion.

  “Let’s talk in here.” Dr. March gestures to the door.

  I follow her through, my heart beating. Cam and Eddie are with me.

  She looks at them with unease.

  “You can talk in front of them.” My tone is impatient. I’ve waited long enough now.

  “I’m a doctor here at the hospital—Dr. Breckon, Cardiology,” Eddie tells her.

  That seems to ease her mind.

  She looks back to me. “Okay, so Taylor is stable at the moment. She did have a seizure in the ambulance on the way here. And then another one when she was taken to get a scan.”

  The thought of her having seizures, and I wasn’t there…pain slices through my chest. I press my hand to it.

  “We stabilized Taylor and went ahead with the MRI.” Dr. March pauses, taking a breath. “There is no easy way to say this…but the scan shows that there is a definite significant growth on Taylor’s brain.”

  “Significant growth?” Cam says.

  “A large tumor,” Dr. March clarifies. “Malignant and aggressive in form.”

  I suck in air, closing my eyes. My heart feels like it’s bleeding out in my chest, flooding my lungs.

  I feel Cam’s hand press against my back.

  “I would normally recommend surgery immediately,” Dr. March continues, like I’m not dying inside. “And then bouts of radiation therapy shortly afterward to offer a chance of survival.”

  Would?

  I flick open my eyes. “Would?” My word echoes my thought.

  “Mr. Shaw—” She thinks my name is Shaw because of Taylor. Because she thinks I’m her brother.

  “Liam.”

  “Liam…there is something I need to ask you.” Dr. March shifts on her feet, folding her arms over her chest. “Did you know that Taylor has been aware for some time that she has a tumor and that she hasn’t sought medical treatment for it?”

  She knew.

  Deep down, I knew she knew. But it still hurts like hell to know for sure.

  All this time, and she never said a word.

  How did I not see it?

  I shake my numb head, answering the doctor.

  “Well, we’re not exactly sure how Taylor knew about the tumor with her not seeing a doctor prior to today—”

  “She had a brain tumor when she was sixteen. She knows the symptoms,” I tell her, my tone short.

  I don’t why, but I don’t like Dr. March. Maybe it’s because she’s the one delivering the bad news. Whatever it is, she’s irritating the fuck out of me. I can feel my anger level rising.

  “That would explain the scar tissue on her brain that also showed up on the MRI.” She looks me right in the eyes with an almost accusatory look in her own. “We couldn’t seem to locate any medical records for Taylor. She wa
sn’t showing in the system at all. Do you know why that is?”

  “Didn’t she tell you? Taylor lives in America—Boston. She’s here, visiting.”

  Completing her list.

  “Taylor hasn’t really been telling us much.” Dr. March shifts on her feet again. “Only that she knew about the tumor, and…” She trails off, her eyes sweeping the floor.

  My brows draw together. “And what?”

  She swallows down, clearly uncomfortable. “Well…Taylor is saying that she doesn’t want any…treatment.”

  “What?” The word comes out on a shocked breath. I feel the blood draining from my face.

  She meets my stare. “Taylor is refusing treatment of any kind. She’s adamant that she doesn’t want surgery. She doesn’t want to get better. She wants to…” Her words fall off.

  Her eyes sweep the floor again. The place where my heart now is.

  “Die.” The word comes out of me on an agonized breath.

  Her eyes meet mine. “Yes.”

  God, Taylor, no. Why?

  I try to pull in air, but I can’t seem to. I feel my body sway. Cam’s arm comes around my shoulders, holding me steady.

  I feel like the walls are closing in around me.

  My eyes shut against the absolute fucking agony the knowledge brings.

  She wants to die.

  “Taylor…said that?” Eddie says. His disbelief only mirrors a small part of what I’m feeling.

  Shock, disbelief, fear, agony, and absolute fucking helplessness.

  “Yes. Those were her exact words,” Dr. March says softly.

  I open my eyes and look at Dr. March. “I don’t understand.” My voice is barely working.

  Why, Taylor? Why?

  I need to see her. Now.

  “Neither do we.” She shifts her stance again. “Liam, are you sure that Taylor hasn’t said anything to you?”

  She’s said everything, except for that.

  “If she had, do you think I would be standing here, having this fucking conversation with you?” I yell.

  Cam’s hand grips my shoulder where it still sits. I know he’s trying to calm me, but I don’t feel calm.

  I feel like tearing this building apart until I find Taylor and force her to explain to me what the fuck she is thinking and then force her to have the surgery.