Face-Off at the Altar

by Toni Aleo

  The room was nearly silent, the only noises coming from the ventilator down Skylar’s throat and the very slow beeping of the heart monitor. As Mekena cried, holding him so tight, his own tears fell down his cheeks. These people didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this, but most of all, he hated that Skylar had never apologized. Never looked him in the eye and said she was sorry for what she had done. Never apologized to the girl he loved for trying to break her heart.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Preston, I’m sorry to bother you, but we need some paperwork signed by one of you.”

  All four of them looked behind them, and Markus hadn’t even realized a nurse had come in. A lump formed in his throat when he saw the acronym DNR on the top of the forms. He knew what that meant and assumed that once her parents saw it, it wouldn’t go well. No one wanted to accept that the person they loved was leaving. As Markus watched, Stan stood, kissing Linda’s head before heading to the nurse. His eyes were bloodshot, his face grim, and Markus couldn’t imagine the pain he was going through. That all of them were going through.

  As Stan passed, he nodded to Markus, cupping his shoulder before whispering, “Thank you.”

  Markus could only nod as Mekena clung to him, needing the support that only he could provide her. That he would always provide her. For the rest of his existence. Swallowing hard, he asked, “Do you want to go closer?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  He nodded slowly, but he needed to go closer. “Okay, well, I have to.”

  “Huh?” she asked as she pulled back, looking at him in disbelief. “What for?”

  “For me,” he said simply as he lowered her into the chair beside him. She watched him with wide eyes as he cupped her face, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’ll be over there.”

  He started to turn, but then her words stopped him. “Do you want me to come?”

  “I do.”

  Her lip came between her teeth as the tears washed down her cheeks. She looked past him, her face twisting in horror before she looked back up to him and rose slowly. “Okay.”

  His lip quivered a bit as she took his hand, and they looked to where Skylar was lying, her mother laid out across her. As they closed the distance between them and Skylar, his heart was pounding, there was a lump in his throat, and his chest hurt, but he kept moving, being strong not only for Mekena, but for himself. When they reached her, Mekena cried out, looking away because Skylar’s eyes were fluttering. It was terrifying, and it freaked him the hell out, but he had to do this because he was pretty damn sure he would never get this moment again.

  And he had to do this to her face. Even if it no longer resembled the girl he’d known.

  Reaching out, he swallowed hard as he laid his hand on Skylar’s while Mekena clung to him. Clearing his throat, his mouth opened but nothing came out. His throat was tight and so was his chest, but he knew what he needed to do.

  For himself.

  For Mekena.

  Clearing his throat once more past the sob that wanted to escape, he said, “I forgive you, Skylar.” A cry left Mekena’s lips as she clung to him, and he could feel her staring at him. “For everything. Don’t worry, I won’t be a scumbag and hurt your sister ever. I’ll love her. I’ll fight for her. I’ll be her rock and constant supporter for the rest of my life. I promise you, I’ll prove you wrong, and I’ll do right by her.”

  Mekena hiccupped a sob beside him as he slowly backed away, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off his chest. He had done it; he had forgiven her, and it felt right. He wanted to say the anger, the resentment, everything was gone, but he would be lying. It was there, but he would work through it because she could go and he would know he was at peace with all that had happened. He was going to be fine. He was going to be successful and happy, but above all, he was going to love Mekena more than anyone could even fathom.

  She was his second chance.

  Looking down at her, he smiled, cupping her face as she whispered, “You amaze me.”

  He shrugged. “I think that about you, daily.”

  Her lip quivered as she looked back at her sister, her tears flowing in rivers down her cheeks. The doctor from earlier had entered the room, and he walked around them, going to the ventilator and shutting it off. Mekena looked around frantically as her mother cried into her father’s arms before she looked back up at him. “That’s it? You’re giving up?” Mekena accused the doctor, and he held his hands out.

  “Your parents have made the decision to discontinue treatment.”

  “Mekena, she’s gone,” her mother cried. “She’s brain dead, we have to let go.”

  Mekena looked to Markus as his heart sank and then back to the monitor that still recorded Skylar’s heartbeat. It was still beating, and Skylar was still breathing. It could be a good sign, though the doctor didn’t seem to think so.

  “She’s still breathing, she’s alive,” Mekena protested.

  The doctor nodded. “She may last a couple minutes, to an hour, to a day. There is no guaranteed timetable.”

  Mekena’s mouth was open as she looked around, her tears coming as fast as her breath, and he wasn’t sure what she was thinking. As she let him go, she walked to the bed and looked down at her sister, her hands shaking. She couldn’t contain herself anymore, and the words just shot out of her. “I hate that you did this. I hate who you became. God, I’m so mad at you. For this. For hurting us, but damn it, Skylar, I’ll always love you. I’ll always remember the time we made clothes out of boxes, and then Mom made us put on real clothes to go to school. But you brought our box hats because you said we needed them. I’ll remember how you tried to teach me to dance, but we all know I suck at that. Or how I taught you how to do long division so that you would ask Matthew if he liked me. How you taught me to put on eyeliner, though I don’t wear it as much as you did. Or how you knew I stole all your clothes even when I wouldn’t wear them out of the house—” Her voice broke, and Markus reached out, taking her in his arms. She leaned her head on his shoulder as she closed her eyes. “I’ll remember the good, not the bad. I wish I could forgive you like Markus has, but that person wasn’t my sister, and I’ll forever hate her. But I will always love you. I will, I’ll always love my big sister,” she said, breaking down against him as the sobs left her in a soul-shaking way. She trembled against him, and he held her as she turned in his arms, clinging to him.

  And there he would stay, holding his second chance, for as long as she wanted…

  …as her sister died.

  Desolation.

  Hollowness.

  Empty. Mekena just felt empty.

  As the rain pelted the umbrella Markus held, Mekena leaned into him, her tears falling down her face as fast as the drops did from the sky. It figured it would rain on the day of Skylar’s funeral. It was like the world was crying for the girl who was lost due to poor choices and drug abuse. Beside her, her mother was crying so hard it physically hurt Mekena. Her father was stone-faced, strong for her mother as the minister said words. Mekena had no clue what he was saying because she wasn’t listening.

  She was trying to keep it together.

  And boy, was it hard.

  Markus’s hand snaked around her waist, holding her in close as his lips pressed into her temple. Avery and Jace were behind her, Avery’s hand in hers from one row back. It was just a simple little movement, but it meant the world to Mekena. Avery’s gesture wasn’t the only one that meant everything to Mekena, though; it was all the people who showed up. Claire had flown in, even with everything that was going on with Jude. He had been traded to Minnesota and they weren’t even settled, but she came. Jayden and Baylor had come and Lucy and Benji, along with Autumn and River. Even Markus’s parents had shown up, and that blew her away.

  But it was hard to be thankful when, inside, she was dying. As she looked at the urn that held Skylar’s body, her lips trembled while her heart broke. This was real; Skylar was gone, and all Mekena could do was try to take eac
h breath slowly, one after another. She hadn’t thought this through. She hadn’t realized how much this would hurt. But really, why would she have ever thought to consider what she would feel if she lost her sister? That wasn’t something people thought about. They thought of happy shit, not life-altering, sad shit, but that was Mekena’s situation, experiencing the pure shit of life.

  She hated it all. Glaring at her sister’s urn, she shook her head. She didn’t understand why they had to cremate her. Yeah, she was broken and they wouldn’t have been able to have an open casket, but why were they burying it? Why didn’t they just bring it home, keep it at the house? Why did she even care? Why was every single feeling eating her alive?

  When Markus’s lips pressed into her temple, she closed her eyes, thankful for him. He had stood beside her as Skylar died, and it hadn’t been a quick process. They watched her, listening to her slowing heartbeat for three hours before the beeping stopped and they were met by only a long beep that the doctor had to come in and shut off. As Mekena had cried from her soul, he’d held her and continued to do so through the night and for the last three days. He cooked for her and her parents, helped pack up Skylar’s things, and even mowed the lawn for her dad when he couldn’t get out of bed.

  But most of all, he was there. She couldn’t thank him enough for that. No matter what, he knew she could look over and he’d be there. It was an extremely overwhelming feeling of comfort, and she couldn’t help but love him a little more for it. She didn’t deserve such adoration from the man who was hurt by the very person who had passed.

  But Markus only cared for her, not the past.

  As the rain picked up, the sounds surrounding her were weighing her down. People were crying, her mother was a howling mess, and her father kept choking on something, maybe his sobs, she wasn’t sure. But it was all too much to take. Mekena wanted to leave. She wanted to get in bed and not move. She wanted to fall into a hole because, damn it, she blamed herself.

  The more she thought about it, the more she knew she’d failed Skylar. She should have been there. She should have helped her, seen the warning signs, the cry for help, and been there. Instead, she blew her off, cut her out, and ran. She ran from her problems—from Markus, from Skylar—and what did that get her? Two years of loneliness, anger, and heartache toward Markus and hatred for her sister. As much as she wanted to believe Skylar heard her words in the hospital, she knew she hadn’t. She was already gone and would never know that Mekena had forgiven the girl who had been her sister. Mekena couldn’t even remember the last thing she’d said to Skylar. Was it that she hated her? Had she even told her she loved her in the last year or so?

  Lord, what had she done?

  As her vision clouded, she shook her head, unable to take it anymore.

  “I want to go home,” Mekena whispered, and Markus looked down, his eyes full of concern as he stared into her flooded ones.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No, I want to leave.”

  “Baby, it’s not over.”

  “I don’t care. I want to go home.”

  Markus looked around to the minister then her parents before looking back to her. “Can you hang out ten more minutes? It’s almost over, surely.”

  “No,” she said, her lip quivering, her pain eating her alive. “I can’t. You stay, I’ll go wait in the car.”

  He shook his head. “No, come on,” he said, and then he turned with her as Avery’s eyes widened in apprehension and confusion.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t,” Mekena said as she passed them, and Avery squeezed her hand.

  “I’ll call you.”

  She nodded a thanks as she passed by, her face in Markus’s chest as they walked by the group of people there to mourn her sister. She felt everyone staring at her, she was pretty sure her mother had called her name, but she didn’t care. She had to get out of there.

  Before the nothingness ate her alive.

  Staring at the spot on the wall where her favorite picture of her and Markus hung, Mekena let out a deep breath as she could feel her heart ache. It was three in the morning, and she couldn’t sleep. It had been that way since Skylar passed. Every time she fell asleep, she saw Skylar, reaching out for her, asking her to help. But Mekena couldn’t catch her, couldn’t help her, and then she appeared as she did in that hospital bed. Bruised, broken, and unrecognizable. The druggie that had killed her sister.

  Her beautiful, vibrant sister.

  Closing her eyes firmly, she begged for sleep, but it never came. Each time she opened her eyes, the time taunted her. The little red numbers on the clock moving so slowly to change. Beside her, Markus slept, and she was thankful for that. Thankful for the silence. He was a godsend, he was, but he was suffocating her just like everyone else. Avery was texting every hour, it seemed. Her mother was a mess and reaching out for support, but Mekena just couldn’t give it. She was drowning in her own feelings. She even had Markus’s family reaching out, and she couldn’t even handle them. She needed to deal with her feelings. She needed to find her footing, but it was hard when he was right up underneath her asking if she was okay and needed anything.

  She wasn’t okay. She wanted her sister back.

  Not the drug addict, but her sister. The one she used to talk about boys with. The one who taught her how to be a girl and who was the person Mekena wished she could be. She had wished, prayed even, to have long legs like Skylar, to be able to dance like her, to be as beautiful as she was, but it never happened. Instead, she watched her sister get any guy she wanted and sleep around for fun. The latter part wasn’t Mekena’s cup of tea, but it was freeing to think that she could do that.

  Though, she couldn’t—nor would she.

  It wasn’t who Mekena was, but it was who Skylar was. And instead of judging her for it, she loved her older sister. But then Skylar changed. She turned into this person who was sleeping with different guys all the time. Who really didn’t care about dance or school, only about fucking around and, Mekena guessed, getting high.

  She wasn’t sure what happened, but her sister just changed. Was it because Mekena was so consumed by Markus that she didn’t have time for Skylar anymore? Didn’t need her? Started ignoring her calls because she was with him? Was it her fault? Because her sister broke her heart by going after the man Mekena loved. Who did that but sick people who needed help? Maybe that was her cry for help. Rather than pushing her away, why didn’t Mekena talk it out, figure out what Skylar was thinking? Why did she just run and turn her back on everyone? She had a duty as a sister to be there, and instead, she fled and then ignored her sister when she learned the truth.

  As Mekena’s lips quivered, her tears started to fall before she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, letting out a sob that shook her soul. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Why was the world so cruel? Why couldn’t Skylar just tell her she was upset or that she needed her? Why did she have to hurt her? Why did she have to hurt Markus?

  “Baby?”

  Shaking her head, she rubbed her face as she swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  She closed her eyes and hated how mad it made her that he asked that. Didn’t he know what was wrong? Didn’t he know she wasn’t fucking okay? Why was he asking such stupid questions? And why was she getting so mad? How did she not have control of her feelings? She felt like an old abandoned house, ready to crumble at a moments’ notice. The caution tape that used to surround her and that she thought she’d had torn away with Markus’s love had returned, and she wasn’t sure it was strong enough to hold her together anymore.

  She was a fucking mess.

  “Mekena?”

  “What, Markus?” she snapped, and then she pressed her lips together. It wasn’t his fault. He was only concerned. He just loved her, she tried to remind herself.

  “Baby,” he said, reaching out to cup her elbow, but she pushed his hand away.

  “Not now.”

  “Mekena, talk to me.” />
  “I don’t want to. I want to sit here and cry.”

  “Okay,” he said, coming up behind her, spooning her, but she moved away.

  “I don’t want to be touched. Please.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, but she could hear his breathing coming out harder and feel his eyes locked on her. She couldn’t handle it, though. She needed to be alone to deal with what she was feeling. But what she was feeling was pure and absolutely torture. She had let Skylar down. She had failed her. Mekena was the reason she was dead. Sisters were supposed to be there for each other, and Mekena hadn’t been.

  Instead, she was there for Markus.

  She was completely engrossed in Markus and only cared about him while her sister essentially killed herself.

  “Did I do something?”

  Fuck. Sitting up, she threw her hands down against the bed as a sob ripped from her soul. “No, Markus, this isn’t about you. Fuck, it’s about me! You don’t know what I’m feeling, you don’t know this pain that is eating me alive! I’m fucking dying here.”

  Sitting up, he watched her cautiously as he nodded, holding his hands out. “I understand that, which is why I’m asking if I can do something.”

  “Can you bring her back?”

  He shook his head sadly. “No.”

  “Then there is nothing you can fucking do.”

  “Let’s talk. What are you feeling?”

  “I don’t want a fucking therapist right now, Markus. I want my sister back and alive and not on drugs. I want to go back to the moment she did what she did and reach out to her, try to see her reasoning and—”

  “Her reasoning?” he asked, and she let her hands drop. “Her reasoning for trying to rape me? There is reasoning for that?”

  “No…yes…ugh, I don’t know. I just feel like that was a cry for help, and all I did was get mad and run. I didn’t listen, I didn’t try to help, I just ran. And because of that, my sister is dead.”