Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  “He’s sleeping,” I answer, smiling sadly. Sleeping is what makes Asher feel the most comfortable, but I miss doing simple things like talking to him.

  “Asher’s mom called earlier. She and his sister are coming to visit tomorrow,” he says, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. “I know he doesn’t want his sister to see him like this, but I think he’ll regret it if he doesn’t.”

  I nod. “Do you think we should tell him?”

  “No!” he exclaims, shaking his head. “He’ll only argue about it. It’s not worth it.”

  “Do you know what time they’re getting in?”

  “Around lunchtime.”

  “Okay.” I grab a glass out of the cupboard and fill it with water. When I turn around again, Asher’s dad has his face buried in his hands. I stand next to him and hesitantly place my hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” he cries, banging his hand against the table. “No parent should have to watch their child die. I’m supposed to be long gone before him, goddammit.”

  My own eyes start to burn with tears. “It’s not fair, Daniel, but we have to focus on the time he has left.”

  “He was so miserable before he met you. Thank you for being there for him. I think these have been some of the best months of his life, even with the cancer,” he admits, sadly. “I haven’t always been there for him, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be.”

  “Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him that you love him.”

  He closes his eyes tight and shakes his head. “I don’t know if he wants to hear it.”

  “He needs to hear it,” I say softly as I watch him open his eyes again.

  He nods, showing me the saddest smile I’ve ever seen.

  “I’m going to go see if he’s awake,” I announce, patting his shoulder.

  He rests his hand on mine. “Thank you for everything.”

  I squeeze his shoulder and walk to Asher’s bedroom, anxious to give him his surprise. As I open the door, I see him propped up on his pillow, staring out at the dark night sky. “How was your nap?”

  “About the same as the other three I’ve taken today,” he teases, trying to make light out of his situation.

  “I have a surprise for you,” I smile, slowly walking toward the window.

  “And what’s that?” he asks, letting the corner of his mouth turn up.

  I close the curtain to block out the street lights and head toward the bed. “Close your eyes,” I instruct, reaching for the on switch for the turtle. As soon as his eyes close, I turn it on and curl next to him on the bed. “Okay, you can open them now.”

  His eyes flutter open, and his hand instantly goes to his chest. “How did you do this?” he asks in an emotion-rich voice.

  I point to the turtle on the nightstand. “The turtle projects constellations on the ceiling. I wanted you to see the stars.”

  He pulls me into a hug, holding me as tight as he can manage against his chest. “You’re so fucking amazing.”

  “It’s all because of you,” I say, feeling his heartbeat against my cheek. I see the big dipper and the small dipper . . . it really is like being outside on a blanket, staring at the night sky.

  “Come here.” I lift my head and watch the stars glisten in his eyes right before he pulls my lips down to his. He grazes them before kissing each corner of my lips.

  It’s a beautiful moment that can be written into my fairy tale.

  ****

  The next morning I have a hard time concentrating on anything because I’m afraid of how Asher will react to seeing his mom and sister. Daniel has left, saying it isn’t a good idea for them to be in the same house, which leaves me to pick up the pieces if anything goes wrong.

  Just after noon, the doorbell rings. Asher wakes, and glances at the time on his alarm clock. “Are you expecting anyone?”

  I hesitate, not sure how to answer that. “Yes, but it’s a surprise. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”

  “Kate, why can’t you tell me?”

  “I’ll be right back.” Taking several deep breaths, I walk to the front door, leaving my hand on the knob a few seconds before actually turning it. As soon as I do, I’m greeted by two sad smiles.

  “You must be Asher’s mom and sister,” I say, reaching my hand out to greet them.

  “Yes, call me Anna,” the older blonde responds. “And this is Aubrey.” The younger girl looks strikingly like Asher. She’s beautiful with blonde wavy hair and the same shade of blue eyes that Asher has.

  “I’m Kate. Come in,” I say, gesturing them inside.

  I want to talk to them and get to know them better, but I can tell they are crawling out of their skin, just waiting to see Asher. “Follow me,” I instruct, leading them through the living room and down the hall. Again I hesitate before opening the door. This is either going to be really good or really bad.

  Thankfully, Asher’s still awake when I push the door open, and the moment he sees them in the doorway, his eyes start tearing up.

  “What are they doing here?” he asks looking up at me. Panic runs through me. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I watch as the room falls completely silent. I take a glance at Anna who has black tears running down her face. This isn’t how I imagined this reunion going.

  After seconds pass, Aubrey runs to him, resting her upper body on his. Asher seems upset at first, but when he looks at his sister, he melts and wraps his arms around her. Anna stays back for a little bit, but then walks toward her son with her hand over her mouth. She’s falling into pieces, and sadly I know exactly how she feels. It does hurt . . . so much.

  I stay long enough to see her grab his hand in both of hers before sneaking out to give them their space. I’m glad they’re getting this moment, and from the look on Asher’s face, I think he’s happy to have it too.

  I sit quietly on the couch, listening to the tick-tock of the grandfather clock. It feels like hours pass, but it’s only because I’m anxious to know what’s going on in there. I pray we’ve made the right decision.

  When the bedroom door opens, I stand up and watch the girls leave Asher’s room. Anna comes toward me, wrapping her arms around me. “Thank you for letting us come. We all needed that.”

  “I would do anything to help him.”

  She lets go of me, resting her hands on my upper arms. “I know, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that. Take care of yourself, Kate, and please notify me of any changes,” she says, reaching into her purse to grab me a business card.

  “Thanks, I will,” I reply, taking the card from her hand. I jot my cell phone number on a card and hand it to her.

  She wraps her arms around me for one more hug before walking out the door. It hits me that this may be the last time she sees Asher alive. Just the thought of it sends a shooting pain through my chest.

  As I walk into Asher’s room, I’m surprised to see his anger replaced by contentment. He looks . . . appreciative.

  He pats the bed beside him. “Thank you,” he whispers as I crawl in next to him.

  Chapter 24

  “Kate, he’s not doing well. I’m sorry, but I don’t think he’s going to make it much longer. He’ll be lucky to get through the night,” Mary, Asher’s nurse, announces with thick concern in her eyes. She’s been sweet through this entire ordeal, reminding me a lot of my grandma with her constant hugging and reassuring words. There have been days I’ve wanted to cry, but somehow found the strength to hold it in, not wanting Asher to see me fall apart. But the second Mary pulls me into her arms; I can’t be that strong girl anymore. She’s not just taking care of Asher . . . she’s guarding my own sanity under lock and key.

  “Isn’t there something else you can do for him?” I ask, not able to hide how much my heart is begging for more time. No amount of hugging can soothe me right now.

  She reaches up, running her hand over my hair. “No, I’m afraid not. I’m sorry. At this point, it’s all about managing the pain.”

 
; The floor falls from under me as reality begins to set in. Whether you love someone for ten thousand minutes or ten thousand days . . . no matter how much you prepare yourself for the inevitable, thinking about it will never bruise you as much as hearing the truth.

  It rings over and over in my ears as if she said it loud and slow. I want her to take it all back, or tell me this has been a bad dream, but I know it’s not. I’m not going to wake up from this. I can’t hide from it. I can’t ignore it.

  This is my life.

  This is Asher’s life.

  Asher was admitted into the hospital last week with pneumonia. His immune system is so weak that he’s been unable to fight it. It’s like I’m watching an hourglass, holding my breath and hoping that last bit of sand doesn’t slip through. It’s a race against time that I’ve wagered inside myself . . . one that I can’t win.

  I need Asher.

  He gives me strength and courage. He gave me my life back. But no matter what I do, I can’t seem to give him back his own. I’d take my last breath if it meant he would never have to take his.

  I love him.

  I know I will love him forever and always.

  Anna has been staying in town since he was admitted into the hospital. From the little time we’ve spent together, I’ve enjoyed watching her relationship with Asher. It’s just hard watching the sadness in her eyes every time she comes in to see him.

  I slide into bed next to him and cuddle up against his side. He’s so thin and frail. Every once in a while, I run my fingers through his hair or trace hearts on his chest to remind him that I’m close. I stare at him for hours straight, trying to memorize every feature on his face. I often hold his hand in mine and close my eyes, letting myself feel his soft warm skin.

  I recall the first day he walked into the diner and caught my attention. I remember the second time he came in and left me the first napkin note. I remember the first time we talked, the first time he made me laugh, the first time we kissed.

  I will never forget him.

  There was one day we talked about death. I didn’t know he had cancer then, but now, looking back, it was all a foreshadowing.

  We’re sitting on the edge of the dock, looking out onto the water. We aren’t fishing; today is simply about relaxing and enjoying our time together.

  “It’s beautiful out here. I could spend the rest of my life waking up to this every day,” I remark, resting my head against his shoulder.

  “Do you ever think about death? I mean, what do you think it’s like?” Asher asks, wrapping his arm behind my back.

  It’s something I haven’t thought much about. I don’t think it’s something that anyone likes to think about.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ve always hoped it will just be another life.” I pause, trying to collect my thoughts. “I hope it’s just like waking up in another place.”

  “Me too,” he replies, kissing the side of my head.

  “We have a lot of time before we have to think about that, though. We’re not going anywhere. There’s too much life ahead of us.”

  “Yeah,” he whispers, turning his face away from mine.

  I should have seen it that day, but I was too involved in the things that were going on around me.

  I’ll miss his voice. I’ll miss the peaceful feeling that looking into his eyes gives me. But most of all, I’ll miss the comfort of knowing that when the sun rises in the morning, Asher will still be lying next to me.

  We tend to regret our yesterdays, live in our todays and forget about our tomorrows, but I’m trying to cherish them all. I say a prayer every night before I let myself drift to sleep nestled against Asher. I pray that there will be a tomorrow. I pray for strength; not just for me, but for Asher too. Every night, I pray for hope because I’m not ready to say goodbye. I want to wake up and see Asher walking around again with that glowing smile on his face again.

  “Kate?” Asher mutters, coming out of a deep sleep. It’s good to hear his voice for the first time today. I close my eyes and take it in like it’s my favorite song. I memorize the tone, tightly holding onto the way he says my name.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, touching my finger to his chin.

  He wraps his arm around my back, trying his best to pull me closer with the little strength he has left. “I just wanted to make sure you were still here.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” I whisper, lightly pressing my lips to his.

  “Is it warm enough to look at the stars outside tonight?” he asks, breathing loudly. He’s been confused and disoriented at times when he’s awake.

  “Not tonight,” I answer, resting my head back against the pillow. I trace my fingertip on his chest, making little hearts and spelling out, “I love you.”

  “I must have fallen asleep during the movie?” he asks, trying hard to swallow.

  “Yeah, you did,” I say, playing along. It’s easier that way.

  “I had a dream about you,” he says slowly, trying to catch his breath.

  “Yeah?”

  He nods slightly. “You looked so pretty like always, and you were coming toward me in a white dress.” He stops, taking a few seconds to take several deep breaths. “The closer you got to me, the more you cried. And when you were close enough, I grabbed your hand.” He pauses. I can feel how hard his chest is moving up and down under my hand.

  “It’s okay. You should just try to get some more rest.” I want to hear everything that he has to say, but it’s draining him a little more with every word. My heart aches, wanting to hold on to him for as long as I can.

  He moves his body just enough to face me, exhausting all of his energy with one simple movement. “Just listen to me,” he whispers, resting his palm against my cheek. “After the minister said a prayer, I told you how beautiful you were.” He stops again, closing his eyes this time.

  “Asher—”

  “No, please,” he whispers, opening his eyes for me again. “I told you that every star in the sky was made for you, and they were, Kate. You light up my world even in my darkest moments.”

  Tears stream down my face as I watch the tears roll down his. This shouldn’t have to happen this way. This moment should be in a church, in front of our family and friends. But because of one stupid six-letter word, these words are being said in bed . . . on the night I will probably lose my soul-mate.

  He inhales a deep breath and touches his palm to my cheek. “I told you that I loved you over and over again because I do, Kate.” He stops, struggling to breathe. I wish I could do it for him. I wish I could give him my strength. “I love you so much, and the thought of leaving you alone is killing me more than cancer ever could.”

  He gasps for air and all I can do is watch as I continue to stroke his cheek.

  “I need to know that you’re going to be okay.” His breathing is heavy and he’s struggling for every word. “I need to know that you’ll think about the good times we shared, and never settle for anything less than how you felt in those moments.”

  “I will,” I cry, kissing the tip of his nose.

  “You deserve it all, with or without me,” he whispers against my lips.

  The tears aren’t streaming anymore; they’re running down my face. Asher tries to wipe them away, but gives up when he realizes it’s pointless.

  “I wish I could have this moment, and the one after that, but this is what God’s given us,” he struggles. He’s so pale . . . so weak. “I want to hold you. Please don’t leave me,” he cries, burying his face in my shirt.

  “I would never leave you,” I cry, holding him close to me, “Never.” I hate this so much, but I need to push through it for him. There is so much I want to say to him.

  “You gave me my life back. You cared about me enough to push past my demons. You made me want to be with you every minute of the day because you made me feel things that no one else could. And whether you’re lying beside me or living in my memories, I will love you. Forever. Always.”

  He draw
s in a few deep breaths through his sobs. He’s struggling for his next breath and every time he gets it, I hope it won’t be his last.

  I’m

  Not

  Ready . . .

  He slowly drifts off to sleep with his cheek pressed against my shoulder. I hear every breath he takes as I lie silently, eager to hear the next. After a while, I count them and as every hour passes, I start to sense more and more of a struggle. That hourglass is running low, but I can’t turn it over . . . life doesn’t work that way.

  His mom and dad come in the room every now and then to check on him. They don’t say much, but I can tell by the broken look on their faces that it’s ripping them apart inside. Neither seems to know what to say, but they sit beside the bed watching Asher. Asher opens his eyes every once in a while, and they share a few knowing glances. He knows they care, or they wouldn’t be here when things are so tough.

  Asher starts to stir beside me again, and I lift my head up to look into his mesmerizing blue eyes in case it’s the last time he can ever open them. The light behind them is gone, but the same unique crystal blue remains. A tear slips from my cheek and falls on his lips but I kiss it away, tasting the salty liquid. I linger there for several seconds, not wanting the moment to ever end. When I sit back up, his eyes are closed and his breathing is labored.

  His body has been going through so much, and his spirit has been broken for days. It’s to the point where I know that this is what’s best for him. A person can only suffer for so long before the agony starts to strip them of who they are.

  I can’t physically or emotionally do this for much longer.

  His dad, who sits in the chair on the side of the bed, notices too. He crumbles, covering his face with his hands. I’ve never seen a man more broken. It’s sad that it took this to bring them back together and that they didn’t have time to mend all the issues between them. He scoots closer to the bed and wraps Asher’s hand in both of his.

  I wish I was strong enough for all of us, but I’m not.

  I lay my cheek next to Asher’s on the pillow, letting my tears soak through the cotton underneath me. This would forever be etched in my mind.