by M Johnson
The bit that hurts the most is that he didn’t want me to know.
I can’t believe this.
This has to be a punishment. It’s my fault for being so caught up in Zave. If I hadn’t been so distracted, if I had just pressed him as to why he was going away in the first place, maybe this wouldn’t be happening. God, I knew something was off. I could feel it, but all I cared about was getting Zave alone. If my dad dies before I get the chance to say goodbye…
A shudder runs through me. I dry retch, guilt and revulsion coiling up like a poisonous snake in my stomach. Oh my God, no. This can’t be happening. This can’t.
I can’t…
I can feel Zave looking at me, but I can’t meet his eyes. I can’t afford to react to him because I need someone to blame right now. It’s his fault for not telling me. I could have known for days, and spent time with my father before he died, but he promised not to tell. This is his fault. Dad might be up there, already dead. I might be too late to tell him how much I love him, how much I need him.
If I don’t get the chance to say goodbye, I’ll never forgive him.
Chapter 20
Sofie
I hate hospitals. They spell nothing but death.
Everyone else has people going in and coming back out again, but not me. Mum. Dylan. And now Dad. Why do I have to lose everyone that means anything to me?
Getting to my dad’s room is a blur. I feel like I’m on autopilot. I’m not sure how, but my feet move of their own accord, getting me where I need to go, with no memory of it.
On the outside, I probably look normal, like anyone else walking these halls, but inside, I feel like I’ve all but checked out. My head feels empty, my chest is hollow, and an indescribable pain crushes my heart every time I take a breath.
I’m so fucking scared. I’m terrified because I don’t know what I’ll see when I walk into his room. I’m even more terrified of how I’m going to cope once he…
God, I can’t even think it, let alone live it.
Zave walks a few steps behind me, appreciating the fact that I can’t even stand to look at him right now. I haven’t spoken a word to him since he told me about Dad.
Working up the courage, I push open the door and walk inside, my throat so swollen that I can’t even swallow down the lump that’s formed.
“Daddy,” I whisper, my heart aching when I see him.
Tears well in my eyes and I inch closer to the bed. He looks so fragile. I’m almost scared if I move too fast he’s going to disappear, like he’s an illusion that’s going to burst like a bubble and leave nothing behind for me to cling to.
He mumbles something in his sleep, but his voice is barely audible. It’s still a comforting sound that I’ve always associated with safety and security. This man is my hero, my knight in shining armour, someone who’s always been there to protect me, his little girl. But here he is, fighting a losing battle to save his own life, and there’s not a single thing I can do about it.
I sit next to his bed and reach for his hand. It’s freezing cold, his skin paper-thin. I swallow, because these hands used to be so strong and warm. They helped me build my dreams, they lifted me up when I was down. They made me believe I could do or be anything. Knowing I might never have these hands wrapped around me again is soul-destroying.
“I’m so sorry.”
My voice is low, barely a whisper, because I don’t want to wake him up. Hell, I’m not even sure what I’m apologising for. If anything, they should be apologising to me. Zave and Maria. Why the hell did they keep it from me? Zave especially. Of all the people who should’ve had my back, he’s the one who should have told me.
I sit there for what feels like hours, clutching Dad’s hand like it’s a lifeline, the only thing anchoring me to him. Dad and I against the world, that’s how it’s always been, ever since Mum died. How am I supposed to do this by myself? How do I keep going without him? I’ve just turned eighteen. Children aren’t supposed to lose their parents so early in life. He said so himself—I barely know how to be an adult. I need him. I need his love, his support, his encouraging words when I fall down, his strong arm to walk me down the aisle when I get married. I can’t lose him. Not yet. There has to be something they can do.
“Sofie?” Dad whispers in a hoarse voice.
“Dad?”
My heart pounds in my throat as I straighten up. His gaze is on me and he’s smiling, but the vacant look in his eyes makes me wonder if he can actually see me, but then his grip on my hand tightens enough for me to know he knows I’m there.
“I’m sorry, kiddo,” he croaks. “I didn’t want this to be the way—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I blink through tears, torn between being angry at him and wanting to hug him. I understand he wanted to protect me, but I deserved to know the second he found out. He doesn’t answer. It takes me a moment to I realise his eyes are closed. I stare anxiously at the monitor, relief rushing through me when it keeps beeping.
He’s still alive.
I’m not going to leave him.
I stay by his bed, holding on to him, as if that’s going to stop him from leaving me. I expect the nurses to chase me out of the room at some point, or to tell me visiting hours are over, but they don’t. They come in, check his vitals, offer me a glass of water, then leave me alone. Zave and Maria are nowhere to be seen. I suspect Zave is just outside the door, but I don’t care enough to check.
My priority right now is what’s here in front of me.
At some point, I doze off.
Half-lying on the bed and still holding on to my dad, I drift in and out of sleep.
I’m five years old and it’s the first day of school. Mum passed away a few months ago, and the world feels big, dark, and scary. Dad is the only family I have and I’m clutching onto his hand so tightly, I think his fingers might stick out in all direction when he finally pries me loose. I stare up at him, terror flooding through me.
“I can’t go in, Daddy.”
“Of course, you can, kiddo. You can do anything you set your mind to.”
“I don’t want to go in.”
My dad nods and crouches down to my level.
“I know this is hard, but I’m right here. I’ll be right here when you get out again, I promise.”
I nod. I know he’ll be here. He always is.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “What if nobody likes me?” I feel like a freak, the kid without a mum, when everyone has lipstick smears on their cheeks from being kissed so much and lunchboxes that were packed with love.
“Are you kidding?” Dad asks. “Have you met yourself?”
That makes me smile. Dad calls to someone passing by and I tug on his hand to make him stop. He’s always doing silly things that embarrass me.
“Kid,” he says. “What’s your name?”
The girl has big eyes and pigtails and she’s the same height as I am. She scrunches up her face.
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
Dad laughs. “You’ll be okay. This is my daughter.”
“Sofie,” I add, and the girl doesn’t look so worried anymore.
“I’m Quinn,” she says. “We can be friends, if you want.”
I nod. “That will be fun.”
Dad smiles. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll be right here when you come out again.”
Quinn holds out her hand and I take it. Together, we walk into the school and I feel okay, because I know Dad will be right there when I get out. He never breaks a promise.
My eyes fly open, my cheeks wet with tears, the aching in my heart so profound, I can’t breathe. I hunch forward, fighting down air, but it doesn’t help.
He’s not going to be here anymore.
A hand touches my shoulder and I jerk up. Zave stares down at me.
“Do you need anything?” His voice is soft, caring, but I still feel nothing but anger towards him.
“No,” I say, sounding as pained as I
feel.
“Sofe, I’m so sorry,” he says softly.
I don’t know if he’s sorry about my dad being sick or not telling me, but I don’t care. I keep my eyes fixated on Dad, wishing I could go back to when I was little, when there was no doubt in my mind that he’d always be there for me.
Tears drench my shirt as I give up trying to keep my emotions in, the tears rolling hard and fast down my cheeks. Once I start, I can’t stop. It’s like a dam wall broke and I’m being sucked under the current. At some point, Zave leaves again. My heart twists with pain, guilt shooting through my chest.
This is all my fault.
I was so caught up in my relationship with Zave, I didn’t notice the signs that were obviously there. If only I’d asked more questions about the weight he’d lost, or this sudden work trip. If only I’d questioned how tired he’d been lately. If I had just pushed him for answers, then maybe I would have found out earlier. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel like I’m to blame for all of this.
When I open my eyes again, it’s dark, the only light reflecting from the machines keeping him comfortable and what’s filtering through the crack in the door. Outside, nurses shuffle past quietly as I listen to that familiar beep of Dad’s machine. The sound is soothing. As long as I can hear that, he’s still here with me. I glance at him, uneasiness churning in my stomach. His hands are even colder now, and his breathing is more laboured.
“Dad?” I whisper softly when he grunts.
“Sofe?”
His voice is so soft I can barely hear him, but I smile, relieved that I’m still on his mind. Then the beeping on the monitor turns into a continuous wail. I snap around and stare at the green straight line as it runs across the screen, like it’s a race to get to the other side.
“No,” I gasp, my voice catching in my throat. I grip his hand tighter, willing him to stay with me. “Daddy, no!”
The doors fly open and a nurse runs in. She looks at the monitor and then me, her mouth pressed into a thin line, her kind green eyes solemn.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” I scream.
“Because he signed a DNR order,” the nurse says, her face stricken with sorrow.
I blink at her, shocked that it ended this quickly.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she says quietly. “Would you like me to tell the man in the waiting room? He’s been here all night.”
I shake my head, not ready to let go. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What DNR? No, dammit, I’m not ready. There’s so much more I need to say to him, so much more he needs to say to me.
“It’s your job to bring him back,” I say, somewhere between a shout and a sob.
The nurse takes a step closer to me and puts her arm around my shoulder. I fall apart at the warmth of her hands and sob into her shoulder until there’s nothing left in me.
“I want to be alone,” I mutter, pulling away from her.
“Of course.”
She walks to the machine and unplugs it, bringing the wailing to a halt, and then she walks out and pulls the door closed behind her. The silence is worse than anything else because there’s nowhere to hide in it. I turn back to my dad, feeling completely and utterly alone. The door opens again.
“Sofie.”
Zave’s voice is stricken with emotion. He walks over and wraps his arms around me. I hold him, not because I’ve forgiven him, but because I know he’s hurting too. After a moment, I push him away. He steps back, giving me the space I demand, but he doesn’t leave. He stays in the room, back against the wall, watching me.
Eventually, it’s time to leave the hospital.
There’s no reason for me to stay here any longer. My dad is gone. I should be happy that his pain is over, but I’m not. All I can think about is me and my loss.
“Let me take you home,” Zave whispers.
I stiffen, wanting nothing more than to reject him, but he brought me to the hospital. If I don’t go with him, I’ll have to take a taxi and I’m in no state to handle that, so I nod and let him lead me out to the car.
The whole drive home, I’m silent. He keeps looking at me, but I pretend not to notice and keep my eyes fixated on the road. I feel empty and numb, like my soul died right there in that room, along with my dad.
The moment Zave pulls into the driveway, I get out and go inside, without waiting for Zave. When I reach the door, I turn around, stopping him from entering. He eyes meet mine, his brow furrowed as he reaches out to take my hand. I yank it away, like his touch is poison.
“Go home.”
“No, I’m not leaving you alone,” he replies.
I shake my head, my lip trembling as I glare at him. “I don’t want you here. I hate you right now,” I hiss.
“What?” He stares at me in disbelief.
“You heard me,” I snarl louder. My hands clenched into fists by my side, I look him right in the eye so there’s no mistaking how serious I am. “I hate you for not telling me, Xavier. I need you to leave.”
“Sofie—”
“I don’t want you here!” I scream, losing my shit. “Just take the fucking hint and go.”
The pain etched on his face is real, but it can never match the agony I’m feeling. He just lost his best friend, but I lost my dad.
God, I’m so tired of keeping it together. I’m tired of being calm and collected when my whole world just fell apart. I need an outlet for my anger, and right now, Zave is the best thing I have. So long as I focus on the rage that’s boiling inside me, I won’t have to think about what I’ve lost. The irony of how our roles have reversed isn’t lost on me. I’m Zave, pushing everyone away, and he’s me, desperately trying to cling to me.
Zave hesitates, but finally, he turns around and leaves.
Chapter 21
Xavier
I go home because, where the fuck else am I supposed to go?
I feel lost, untethered, a boat out at sea without an anchor. I didn’t want to let her kick me out, but I know why she had to. She’s going through a tough time. Hell, we both are, but she just lost her dad. If I don’t know what loss does to you, no one does.
But that’s selfish of me to think, isn’t it?
Sofie knows loss just as well as I do. She had to say goodbye to her mother long, long before any girl should have to. Then Dylan was taken away from me… from us. I have to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t the only one who lost him.
Maria did, too. And Sofie.
I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to ignore the ache in my chest, the hollow spot that opened up when Aaron died. Sofie was there with him, as was right, but I would have wanted to be there, too. He was the one who got me through a load of shit, more times than I can count. If it wasn’t for him not giving up on me, where the hell would I have been now? I wouldn’t have had shit together remotely as much as I do.
Aaron was a hell of a friend. A man no one should have to lose.
Not me. And not Sofie.
Fuck.
The pain of losing someone to death isn’t one that’s foreign to me, but I’m surprised all over again at how acute it is, how it makes me forget how to breathe, how I have to focus on each and every intake of breath or I’ll just stop.
I have to keep going for Sofie’s sake, though. She needs someone. She needs me. I’m all that’s left. And damn if I’m not going to be there for her. She’s helped me through all kinds of shit lately, too.
But that’s what you do when you’re together. You’re there for each other. This isn’t just some kind of fucked-up fling with my best friend’s daughter. This thing I have going with her, these feelings I’m harbouring—it’s the real deal.
I pull up in front of my house and switch the car off, letting the engine tick over. I don’t know how long I sit in the dark, but eventually I have to get out because I can’t stay in one place forever. That’s the thing about death—you just have to keep moving forward. You can’t afford to stop. If I stopped the last time I lost someone—
when I lost Dylan—I would just have laid down and died, too.
When I push the front door open, the house is filled with light and the sound from the television dances through the house. The music stops abruptly when I walk through the foyer, deeper into the house. Maria appears at the living room door.
“Zave?” she asks, shocked to see me.
I guess it’s a surprise that I’m here. I expect her to ask questions or to maybe ask me to leave, too. That will just be the final straw. But she takes one good look at me and gestures her head towards the door that leads to the bar area.
“Come in,” she says.
I follow her because I have nowhere else to go.
She pours me a whiskey from behind the bar and walks around to sit on the stool next to me. I run my fingers over the bar, the solid wood that I fell in love with the moment I saw this thing in the warehouse, when we looked to replace the one that came with the house.
Maria sits next to me, not saying a thing. Having her next to me—a warm body—is just what I need. But the fact that it’s Maria…
I don’t know what to feel. Everything feels like it’s crashing down around me. Did, in fact. It already happened and buried Sofie. I don’t know how to reach her.
“What the fuck do I do?” I ask, the panic and exasperation clear in my voice. I turn my eyes to Maria. “Tell me how to fix this?”
She remains silent for a moment. “If you’re serious about her…”
I nod, because I am. I’ve never been more serious about anything.
“Then if you want to fight for her, do just that,” Maria says. “Don’t let her push you away.” There’s something heavy in her voice, a pain of her own. “That’s where I went wrong,” she adds softly, and looks down at her hands. She didn’t pour herself a drink. “I didn’t fight for you.”
I sip my whiskey, trying to figure out how I’m going to do this. Maria reaches for me and takes my hand. I let her. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t just push her away completely. On some level, I will always care about her. She’s the person I spent the last twenty years of my life with.