Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  Last night I wanted to make love to her. It’s hard to look at her every day and feel this connection but not be as close to her as I can be. I’ve had sex with lots of girls, but she’s different. She’s the one.

  Today, I’m paying for it. I knew I didn’t have the physical or emotional strength to be with her last night, but I did it anyway. She’s my addiction. I can’t give her up.

  “Do you want me to put a movie in?”

  “Let’s stay like this a little while longer,” I whisper.

  “Okay, let’s talk then. Who was your first girlfriend?” she asks, moving her head closer to mine.

  I laugh just thinking about it. “Her name was Lana Richards. I was fourteen, and she was fifteen.”

  “How long did it last?”

  “Maybe two weeks.” I smile, thinking about the day she threw her French fries at my head in the cafeteria.

  “It must’ve been pretty serious,” Kate laughs, tracing small circles on my bare chest.

  “All the names she called me that day were definitely serious. What about you? Who was your first boyfriend?”

  The smile falls from her beautiful face, leaving the sad expression I used to see so often when I first met her. “I never had one,” she whispers, freezing her fingers in place. “You’re my first.”

  My chest aches hearing her admit that. She lost so much time because of one asshole, and I’d do just about anything to give those years back to her. I know I can’t, but at least I can give her hope for a future.

  Placing my finger under her chin, I bring her green eyes back to mine. “I’m glad I got to be your first, but I want you to promise me that I won’t be your last.”

  “Asher—”

  “Don’t,” I say, placing my finger over her lips. “I don’t want you to argue with me over this one. I need to know that you’ll be all right. I need to know that you’re happy.”

  “I can’t even think about that now. Don’t you get that? I love you so freaking much . . . I can’t see past you, Asher,” she says, closing her eyes. “I can’t.”

  “You’re special, Kate. Someone is going to see it just like I do,” I say softly, running my thumb across her cheekbone. “I don’t want to leave until I know you can live without me. And when I say live, I mean smiling. I just want you to be happy.”

  “Stop. Please, just stop,” she mumbles, covering her face with her hands.

  Using the little bit of strength I have left, I pull her toward me and hold her close to my chest. I hate seeing her like this, knowing that I’ve caused it. No one should ever have to talk to their girlfriend about this shit. It hurts so fucking much, but I push through it because I know she needs my strength.

  I don’t want her to feel guilty. I don’t want her to think her life ends after me. She did that once and lost so much because of it.

  “I’m sorry. Not because of what I said, but because I had to say it,” I say, combing my fingers through her hair.

  “Can we talk about something else? Please.”

  I use the hand resting behind hers to pull her closer to me, feeling her warm breath mix with mine. “Loving you is easy, but it makes this so much harder.”

  Her warm lips graze mine over and over again. “I love you.”

  I hold her close to my chest, and I feel the weight of my eyelids getting heavier and heavier. I don’t want to close my eyes. I hate falling asleep because I’m missing so much of the time I have left with this girl, but control is something I have very little of now.

  It’s preparing me for what’s to come.

  I want her to be okay . . . it’s what I pray for every time I feel myself drifting. I pray to wake up and see her beautiful face one more time. I pray for a miracle, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I was already given one.

  Kate.

  Chapter 23

  The first thing that catches my eye as I pull down my street is Beau’s old beat-up Chevy. I haven’t spoken to him since I learned Asher’s sick. Not because I don’t want to but because I haven’t had time for anyone else.

  Asher and I have been spending every moment together, but once in a while when he’s sleeping, I leave to run a few errands. I hate every minute of it the time we spend apart. I’m always afraid I’m going to miss one of the rare moments he’s awake, or that he’ll take a turn for the worse and I won’t be there for him.

  As I stop in my driveway, I remember the relief I used to feel every time I saw Beau was home. I feel a little bit of it right now. I’m half expecting him to come out the front door like he used to but he doesn’t.

  Those days are gone.

  When I walk into my house, it’s overwhelmingly quiet. My mom’s spot at the kitchen table is empty, and the television is off.

  I quickly throw a few items into my duffle bag, not paying any attention to whether they match. I take a couple minutes to leave my mom a note apologizing for all the dirty clothes I left in the laundry room and head back out the door.

  The cold air hits my face as I run down my steps toward my car. With any luck, it’ll still be warmed up from the drive over here.

  “Kate!” I hear a familiar voice yell from behind me.

  I halt in place, hesitant to turn around and face him.

  “Kate!” This time, I can tell he’s closer.

  Taking a deep breath, I turn and look at the man I didn’t even know I missed so much until this moment. “Hey, what are you doing home?”

  “Winter break,” he replies, running his fingers through his hair, “I was hoping I’d see you.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t stick around. I have a lot going on right now,” I say, nervously adjusting the strap on my bag.

  Beau closes the space between us and lifts the heavy bag from my shoulder, carefully sliding it down my arm and placing it over his own shoulder. “I know. Your mom told me about Asher. I . . . don’t know what to say. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No,” I answer, shaking my head.

  He nods, glancing toward the street then back to me. “If you need anything, I’m here for you.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot,” I say, folding my arms across my body to keep warm. “How long are you home for?”

  “Until next Sunday. Look, if you have time, we could get a pizza or something before I go back. Just to catch up.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to. I don’t like to leave him,” I answer, digging my shoes into the light dusting of snow on the ground.

  “Do you want me to put this in your car?” he asks, lifting the strap of my bag up from his shoulder. “I have something in my house for you. I’ll just give it to you now.”

  Before I even have time to reply, he opens the back door of my car and throws the bag in then opens the driver’s door and starts the engine.

  “Wait in the car. It’s too cold for you to be standing out here,” he says as he climbs out and holds the door open for me.

  I slide into the seat. I don’t have the energy or the time to argue with him. “You didn’t have to get me anything. I didn’t—”

  He shuts my door and quickly disappears into his house. I feel horrible because I didn’t buy him a present. I haven’t had time to think of anyone but Asher.

  I lean forward and grip my steering wheel tight as I watch him step outside with a small rectangular box in his hand. Things aren’t as easy between us as they used to be.

  He opens the passenger side door and climbs in. “Here. Open it.”

  I hesitantly grab the package from his hand and run my fingers over the red ribbon before untying it. I rip the paper, revealing a white box. I carefully lift the lid and peel back the thin foam that covers the top.

  What it reveals takes my breath away.

  “Do you like it?”

  I run my fingers along the smooth wood corners and feel tears building in my eyes. “It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”

  “I’ve had it for a while. I have one I keep in my
room to remind me of home and I thought you might like it too. You know, to remind you of better days,” he says quietly, never taking his eyes off the picture, “It’s our spot.”

  It’s a picture of the lake, taken from the spot on the beach where we usually sit and stare out onto the water.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, trying to hold back my tears.

  “Now you can go there whenever you need to,” he says, brushing his thumb under my eye, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “I feel bad that I didn’t get you anything.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know you’ve been busy.”

  The way he’s looking at me right now makes me want to wrap my arms around him, but I need to go . . . Asher needs me. “I should probably go in case Asher wakes up.”

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, he turns his head to stare out the window. “Well, call me if you need me,” he says, turning back to me, “I miss you, Kate.”

  I nod, unable to speak as I watch him get out of the car and walk away.

  ****

  I wish I could take Asher’s place . . . I think it would be easier to die than to live without him. He means so much to me . . . he is the architect of the person I’ve become these last few months. I don’t want to live this life without him. I don’t want to spend a single night without him.

  I was living in this horrible nightmare, and he gave me reason to dream again. How am I going to dream when he’s gone?

  Why does God always have to take the best? That’s certainly what he’s taking from me.

  He’s taking the best thing that has ever happened to me.

  “Do you need any more pain medicine?” I ask, holding his hand in mine. He’s had a morphine IV for the last couple of weeks. He’s so weak that he’s been confined to the bed. There are no more fishing trips. No more trips to the diner.

  He nods, closing his eyes again. He’s so thin and pale, but what’s dimmed the most is the light behind his smile. I miss it.

  It’s been four weeks since we last made love . . . on the night we planned the future we will never have together. Every day, his spirit fades a little more, right along with his strength. Each day he sleeps a little more than the day before.

  Today, he’s been asleep all day.

  I lie next to him and watch the life being drained from his body. A little bit of his soul is slipping away with it. He’s fading away from me, and soon I won’t be able to touch him with my hands, or feel his warm skin against mine. I want to savor him. Forever.

  “Come lay up here with me,” he mumbles, I listen to every word he says because I know the day he says his last words is going to be a knife to my heart.

  “Are you sure you’re up for that?” I ask, hesitantly. I don’t want to hurt him any more than he already hurts.

  “You’re the only thing that makes me feel alive. Now get up here,” he demands, never opening his eyes once.

  “Fine, but remember you asked,” I reply, kicking my slippers off. I crawl under the warm comforter and snuggle up to his side. His body is always ice cold now, but I have no problem warming him up.

  “What’s the date today?”

  “January 14.”

  “I want to go outside and look at the stars,” he says, wrapping his arm around my back.

  “It’s twelve degrees outside, Asher,” I say, using my pinky to trace circles on his chest.

  “Do you think they have stars in heaven?”

  “What?”

  “Do you think there are stars in heaven?” he pauses, swallowing so hard that I can hear it. “I was just thinking about what it would be like to look up and never see them. It’s kind of what connects the world, you know? It doesn’t matter if we’re here, or halfway across the world . . . we all see stars. Someday soon I’m not going to see them anymore, Kate.”

  A tear falls from my eye, but I quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of my sweater. I’ve tried to be so strong for him, but when he says stuff like that it knocks me down like a hurricane.

  “Asher—”

  “Don’t.” He tilts my chin up, making me look straight into his eyes. “I don’t want you to tell me that there’s still hope. I don’t want you to tell me that everything will be okay,” he says sadly, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m dying. This is me dying.”

  I pull up on my knees so that my face is only a few inches above his, cradling his cheeks in my hands. “We’re both here right now. I don’t want to think about what tomorrow might bring, or the next day. This isn’t a game of pretend. It’s living in the moment, and it’s how I want to spend every last hour, minute and second we have left together.”

  A tear escapes his eye, and I kiss it away. If I could kiss it all away, I would. Cancer is a darkness that is spreading through his body . . . killing him slowly . . . robbing him of light, and all I can do is sit back and watch, praying for the miracle that will probably never come.

  He falls asleep not long after. It comes easy for him, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m afraid I’ll miss something if I fall asleep, but most of all I’m afraid that when I wake up, I won’t feel his heart beating against my palm. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that moment.

  I slowly get out of bed to call my mom and ask her for a favor. She has been really understanding through all of this, never questioning my decision to spend every waking minute with Asher.

  A short while later, there’s a soft knock on the bedroom door. I carefully climb out from under the covers and slide my slippers back on. I open the door a few inches and see Daniel standing there with his arm resting against the door jam. “Hey, Kate, your mom is in the living room. She says she brought something for you,” he announces, stepping back so I can come out of the room.

  “Thanks.” Asher’s dad has been so lost. When I first started staying here, we would all eat dinner together with little bits of conversation here and there. Now, Asher doesn’t eat, and the two of them rarely talk. His dad checks on him every morning before work, once after work, and once before he goes to bed. I want to help them mend their relationship before it’s too late, but both are too stubborn to make the first move.

  My mom stands behind the couch, looking at the old photos of Asher and his father. The distance between the two of them is even more evident in pictures; they end when Asher is really young and pick up just a few months ago when he moved back to Carrington.

  “Thanks for doing this for me,” I say, pulling her into a hug. It’s little things like this that show me how much she cares for me. She would do anything for me.

  “It’s not a problem. Anything you need, Kate,” she replies, squeezing me tight.

  “Thank you.” I breathe in her perfume and my eyes tear up. Going through this with Asher makes me appreciate the people I have around me, especially my mom. Even through all of our struggles, I know how much she loves me and how much I love her.

  “How’s Asher doing?” she asks, pulling back to look at me and my tear stained cheeks. Her eyebrows draw close together as she grabs my head in her hands. “Oh, sweetie, I wish I could take all this pain away, for both of you. I love you so much, and seeing you like this breaks my heart.”

  “I just feel so helpless. I wish I could do more for him,” I cry, squeezing my eyes shut.

  “You’re stronger than you know, Kate. I am so proud to call you my daughter,” she says, lightly kissing my cheek.

  “I love you, Mom, in case I don’t tell you enough.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Three words have never been so powerful.

  “I should probably get back to Asher before he wakes up. I want to surprise him with that,” I say, glancing at the cardboard box on the coffee table.

  “Do you want me to stay?” she asks, gently squeezing my upper arm.

  I shake my head. “No, I’ll be okay.”

  “Call me if you need anything,” she says soothingly, wrapping her arms around me for another hug.

  “I will.�
� I walk her to the door, feeling the weight in my chest getting heavier. I want her here with me. She walks down the snowy path, looking back once to give me a heart-warming smile. It’s that smile that makes me feel like I’m at home. It’s that smile I’m going to need to see a lot more of really soon.

  When I walk back into the bedroom, Asher is talking on his cell phone. “I miss you too,” he says, sadly into the receiver. “Can you put mom back on?”

  I quietly close the door behind me and set the box my mom brought on the dresser. Asher spots me and pats the area next to him on the bed. “Hey, Mom, I just called to see how things were going?” I watch as he nods and closes his eyes. “Mom, please don’t cry. I don’t like it either, but she can’t see me like this.”

  He shakes his head, pinching his nose between his fingers. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.” He’s silent for a while, focusing his attention out the window. I would do anything to make this better for him. It’s hard to watch the person you love fall apart in front of your eyes. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. I love you,” he says before tossing the phone on his nightstand. I give him a few minutes of silence to sort through the things that are going through his head before I crawl into bed next to him and wrap my arms around his thin waist.

  We both quietly drift off to sleep. When I finally stir, it’s dark outside, and Asher’s eyes are still closed next to me. I carefully pull my arms from his waist and place my hand over his heart. It’s the same way I verify that he’s still sleeping every time I allow myself to fall asleep. I roll out of bed to open the box my mom brought over earlier. I’m hoping the item inside will make him happy, even if just for a few minutes.

  I pull the turtle shaped figure out of the box and set it on the nightstand before plugging it in. It does exactly what I hoped it would do. Now I just have to wait for him to wake up and see it.

  I turn it off and walk out to the kitchen to get something to drink. I’m not surprised to see Daniel sitting at the table staring off into space.

  He startles when he hears my feet walking across the hardwood floors. “Hey, how’s Asher doing tonight?”