by Ellie Wade
I’ve known this, but I’ve never stopped to think about the enormity of it. I’ve yet to take time to send my immense gratitude for Ethel into the universe. Most importantly, I haven’t told her. She needs to know how very thankful I am that she loves me. She needs to know that I love her just as much in return.
If she were to leave me now, I don’t know what I’d do.
I take her hand in mine. It’s cold and almost lifeless, covered in wrinkles that I’ve never seen before. I squeeze it, gently rubbing it to warm it up.
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out. “Please get better. Please be okay. I love you.”
I drop my head to the side of her bed, and I cry. My body shakes with sobs, and I don’t try to stop them. I’m completely overcome with emotion, and I just don’t know what to do. I feel so useless, sitting here. I want to help her, but I don’t know how.
I know one thing for sure. I’m not leaving her. She will wake up, she will be fine, and I will help her every step of the way.
My body grows tired, and I fall asleep with my forehead against her hospital bed, with her hand in mine, and with grief weighing heavy on my heart.
23
“Love doesn’t change a thing. People let you down just the same.”—Wyatt Gates
I’ve been sitting in this chair for sixteen hours, and Ethel still hasn’t stirred. Fear runs wild in my mind, reminding me of all the things that could go wrong. I hate that she’s not waking up.
I called Xavier to ask him to take care of Cooper and hold down the fort at the rescue while I was here. He didn’t even hesitate with his assurance that everything would be perfect when I got back. I have to talk to him when I return and let him know how valued he is.
Sitting in a hospital room, watching someone I love lie here, almost lifeless, has given me a lot of time to think, and I’ve made some realizations. First, I have to appreciate people in my life more. I always assume that they know how helpful or important they are, but sometimes, people need to hear it. Ethel tells me all the time how much she loves me and how proud she is of me. I’ve never questioned her love, and I figure she assumes that I feel the same way for her. That’s not good enough, and I know it.
I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Something else I’ve come to realize is that I had no control over the environment in which I lived and the situations I was forced to go through. I was a child, and I did the best I could with what I had. But I’m not a child anymore. I can’t go around sulking at the world because of the ways I was wronged. Living in the darkness of my past will never allow me to find the light here and now. The life that I make for myself now is my choice. If I fuck it up, that’s on me. No more excuses.
“Why so serious?” Ethel’s voice is hoarse and barely audible.
“How are you feeling?” I jump up and hit the nurse call button. “She’s awake,” I excitedly tell the nurses’ station.
I hold her hand and bend down, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “You have some explaining to do.” I narrow my eyes in her direction, and her lips tilt up in a weak smile. “And I love you. Very much. More than you realize.” I sneak in the last sentiment right before the nurse walks in.
I step out of the way as the nurse takes Ethel’s vitals and checks her IVs and medicines. When the nurse has convinced me that everything looks great, she exits the room.
I sit down next to Ethel. “I’m not going to yell at you because, well, I’d be a dick if I screamed at you in the ICU, but why didn’t you tell me?” I say, sadness in my voice. “I’m so mad that I wasn’t there for you. I’m furious that you’ve been going through this all alone. You almost died, E, and I hadn’t even known you were sick in the first place.”
She pats my hand. “You’ve lived through more than enough in your life. I didn’t want you to watch me get sick. I didn’t want to burden you.”
“What do you think family is for if not to burden them during your time of need?”
Ethel chuckles softly.
“You should’ve told me. You have to give the people you love the chance to show up for you because you’re worth showing up for. You are so loved by so many, and I know more than just me would’ve wanted to be here for you.”
“I’m not going to be an inconvenience, Wyatt. That’s not who I am.”
“It’s not a burden if I want to help, and I do. I want to. Do you want to know who you are? You are the best thing to ever happen to me. You saved me, E. You saved me.” My voice cracks with emotion. “It wasn’t until I thought I might lose you that I realized how much. It’s not fair of you to take away my choice to love you back. If something had happened to you and I wasn’t there, I would’ve lived with that guilt forever. You’re not an inconvenience. You’re family. You’re my only family.”
Ethel’s watery gaze remains on mine as the corner of her lip tilts up. “Okay.” She nods, squeezing my hand in hers. “I’m sorry.”
“So, tell me everything,” I urge. “When did you find out you had cancer? What type? What treatments have you been through? I want to know it all.”
Ethel explains that she’s been receiving chemo for a while. The mass in her breast was small and contained, and it hadn’t traveled to her lymph nodes. The chemo she was on wasn’t extremely aggressive. The mastectomy was a precaution toward future breast cancers since, apparently, she carries a gene that predisposes her to it. Her prognosis is very good.
“So, you’re going to be around for a long time?” I ask a question that no one has an answer to. Nobody knows when their last day will be, but I want reassurance anyway.
“I’m going to be a pain in your ass for years to come.” She grins.
“Good, because I need you to get better and come get your damn cats,” I joke with her.
She laughs before raising her hand to her chest with a pained face. “Don’t make me laugh.” She winces.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “But, seriously, we miss you. The place has gone to shit without you.”
She shakes her head against the pillow. “That’s not true. It has you. Everything that is good about the rescue is because of you, Wyatt. It was your vision that you’ve carried through to fruition. You are the smartest, most caring man that I know. With or without me, you will continue to do amazing things.”
“I don’t know about that,” I argue, “but we miss you regardless. Even if you come back just to prop your feet up and relax on the couch, we want you there. It’s not the same.”
“How’s my Georgia girl?” Ethel’s smile is immediately replaced by a frown when she sees my face fall.
“She left,” I say coldly. So much bitterness rises within me just at the mention of her name.
“What do you mean?”
“She left a few days ago for Mexico. She’s going to help out down there now, apparently.” Each word comes out with an air of annoyance.
“For how long?”
“I have no idea, E. The point is, she’s gone, and I’d like to forget about her now.”
A low scoff comes from Ethel, and she taps my hand. “She’ll be back. She’s just working through some things. You’ll see.”
“I don’t want her back. Enough people leave. I need someone who will stay.”
“She’s a good person, and she’s good for you. We’ve all seen that. Just don’t give up on her yet.”
“I was stupid,” I tell her. “I all but begged her to stay, and she left anyway. I feel like an idiot.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be in love if you didn’t have moments of idiocy. It goes with the territory.”
“Did you hear the part where I told you that she left? She’s gone. So, whether I loved her or not, it doesn’t matter.”
She taps my hand once more and holds me in her stare. “Loving someone always matters. Love matters, Wyatt. Don’t you forget that.”
I let her have the last word on the subject, considering she almost died and all. Yet I know it doesn’t. Love doesn’t change a thing. People let you down just the same.
>
“So, let’s change the subject, shall we?” I ask her.
She’s only awake for a little while longer. In that time, I catch her up on the dogs at the rescue and, of course, her cats. There’s not much to tell her about them. They’re cats. They purr, meow, and sleep.
I try to get an idea of what type of assistance she’ll need when she gets out of here. I have no idea what is needed when caring for a sick loved one, but I want to do it right. She makes me promise to go home to eat, shower, and sleep. It’s been twenty-four hours since I’ve eaten anything besides some graham crackers and juice that they have in the patient lounge outside her room.
I’m not ready to leave just yet. I have this irrational fear that if I leave her side, something bad will happen, and I won’t be here.
Ethel’s right though. A shower, change of clothes, and food would do me some good. The nurses say that she’s stable and set to be moved from the ICU to a regular post-surgical unit tomorrow if all stays well.
I lean back in my chair. Crossing my arms, I close my eyes. I’ll head home in a bit. I’m going to sit here a while longer.
In my dreams, I hear Georgia’s voice—soft and beautiful, as it always is. She’s so real; I can smell the light scent of coconut and lime from her shampoo. I know I should block her out, think of something else. Yet I can’t bring myself to. In sleep, I can pretend that she never left. In my dreams, I can go on as if she were still here with me. When I wake, the reality that she left will weigh on me so greatly that it will be hard to breathe, like it has been every day since she left. Right now though, I see her, and I smile, for in my dreams, I still love her. I still have her. I still want her.
When I wake, I’ll let her go.
24
“The downfall about constantly moving is not knowing how to be still.”—Georgia Wright
“Wyatt?” I say his name again, softly so as not to wake up Ethel.
He stirs, and for a moment, I think he’s going to wake up, but he doesn’t. A faint smile crosses his tired face, and I wonder what he’s thinking about.
The image of the two of them in this room, passed out from exhaustion, is enough to break my heart, and the guilt that already consumes me is so great now that I’m not sure how I’ll ever recover from it.
I left him. He begged me not to, and I left anyway.
Now, he’s here at Ethel’s side, and God knows what they’ve been through. The nurse wouldn’t give me details since she couldn’t verify that I was family—as I told her I was—but the fact that they’re here in the ICU indicates that whatever is going on, it’s not good.
Remorse is a hard one to swallow because had I chosen differently—had I chosen Wyatt—this reality would have been altered. Maybe Ethel would’ve still gone through what she has, but I would’ve been here, loving them both. Instead, Wyatt’s alone. He should never be alone.
I confessed my love to him, and then I abandoned him under the pretense of human rights. Yes, there are people in Mexico who need help. There are people all over the world in need. But Wyatt’s right; there are people here in this city who need help, too.
I left because I was scared.
The downfall about constantly moving is not knowing how to be still. I’ve built more connections over the past four months than I have in my whole life. I’ve never felt more attached to a place than I do here. And truth be told, it freaks me out.
I felt trapped, like I was suffocating. In actuality, nothing was caging me in but my own mind. I’ve never had to work through these feelings because I’ve never been in a location long enough to have them.
I have more to lose here than anywhere else in the world, and when the anxiety in my mind became too loud and fight-or-flight kicked in, I fled because I couldn’t risk losing the fight. Choosing to leave behind the one I love is somehow easier to swallow than the chance that he’ll leave me.
He gave me no indication that he had any thoughts of ending things between us, but I loved him too much to find out. I don’t have the coping mechanisms for loss. It’s ironic really—the girl who’s been given everything doesn’t have the strength to gamble on the unknown. Money can buy a lot of things, but clearly, security isn’t one of them. Love is always a gamble, and I’ve finally realized that I’m never going to truly experience it unless I open myself up to heartbreak.
Wyatt shifts in his seat and briefly opens his eyes before bolting up out of the chair.
“What are you doing here?” he whispers. The animosity in his voice causes me to take a step back.
“I came back. I wanted to see you,” I say sheepishly.
“Leave. I don’t want to see you,” he snaps.
“Listen, I’m sorry. I…”
He takes a hastened step toward me and grabs my arm, leading me out of the room. “Go,” he warns.
Tears fill my eyes. “Wyatt! Let me explain, please.”
His stare leaves me to look back at Ethel, and when it returns to me, it narrows. “Be quiet. She needs her sleep, and I need you to leave. I have no interest in talking to you. You made your choice. Now, go.” He shoos me away with his hands. “Go back to Mexico, China, Russia, Australia, Brazil, or any other place you choose. Just don’t stay here.”
He walks back into Ethel’s room, his footsteps heavy. I watch him as he sits down beside her and adjusts her blanket so that she’s completely covered. Tears cascade down my face, and I stand out in the hall, looking in. He told me to go, but my feet won’t move. They can’t move. Two of my favorite people are in this hospital room, and I can’t force myself to leave them.
He’s right to be angry. I was a coward. He’d been abandoned and alone for most of his life, and then I did it to him again. I would hate me, too. I don’t deserve his love, but I want it. I fight for others all the time. It’s as natural to me as breathing. Yet when it comes to standing up for myself, I falter every time but not today.
I’m choosing to fight.
I’m choosing Wyatt.
I’m choosing uncertainty because the most important things in life are never guaranteed. He’s here now, and I love him. If I lose him at some point in the future, at least I will know what it was like to have him in the first place.
“I’m not leaving,” I say into the room, my voice shaky. “I’m not leaving you again.”
I watch as Wyatt’s shoulders sag, and he runs his fingers through his hair, but he doesn’t turn around to face me. He stays focused on Ethel, who’s still sound asleep.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me, Wyatt. Talk to me,” I plead as a sob gets caught in my throat. I swipe my fingers beneath my eyes, catching some of my tears. “Talk to me,” I say again.
His shoulders rise with a sigh, and he stands before turning to face me. In his blues, I see brokenness, and my chest aches, as I know that I’m the cause of his hurt. My lip quivers, and I keep my stare on his, silently begging him to come to me. After many shaky breaths and broken heartbeats, he does.
He walks past me, and I follow him as he leads us down a quiet hallway. He steps into a vacant room and closes the door.
“Talk,” he says, defeated.
“Well …” I stumble on my words. Now that I have his attention, my brain is completely scattered, and I don’t know where to start. I sense him getting agitated. “Um,” I say for lack of anything better.
“Well? Um? Good talk. I have to go now.”
“Wait.” I reach my hand out and clench his forearm. “Just wait. Give me a moment.”
Wyatt pulls his arm from my grasp and crosses his arms in front of his chest. I inhale a calming breath.
“I love you,” I tell him. “I really love you. And the thing is, you’re the first man I’ve ever felt this way for. This is new to me and really scary. You’re right; I ran. I was afraid, terrified. I don’t know how to do this.” I chuckle sadly.
“I don’t know how to open my heart up to someone and be vulnerable in that way. You know what it’s like to be abandoned, but the thing
is that I’ve always left before I could be. I love you so much that the thought that I could lose you scared me more than any Mexican cartel ever could.”
I shake my head. “Moving around my whole life, I’m an expert at talking to and making friends with new people. Put me in a room with anyone, and we’ll leave as buddies. But I’ve always known that those relationships were temporary. They were always categorized into the Here for Now place in my brain, and as soon as I moved to a different place, they were replaced with new people. I’ve never been afraid of losing anyone, outside of my sister and my parents, because from the second I meet people, I know, in a matter of time, I’ll be gone.”
Wyatt takes a breath, and his features soften. Hope expands in my chest, and I pray that he’s truly hearing what I’m saying.
“Somewhere along the line, you left that Here for Now category and moved over to the Forever place in my heart. You’re the first person, outside of my family, to ever reach it. Then, I started to think, What if he isn’t forever? What if he leaves me? How would I handle that?” I shrug. “I don’t know how I would. So, I left, to make sure that you’d never leave me.”
More tears stream down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t prepared to fall in love with you.”
I blink, and Wyatt’s in front of me, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling my mouth to his. The kiss isn’t hard and frantic like I thought it’d be. It’s soft and sad.
It’s a broken boy forgiving a broken girl.
It’s two very flawed people coming together in pieces to make a whole.
It’s hopeful and scared, all at once, and it’s everything.
It’s everything.
And it’s worth the fight.