Butterfly Dreams

by A. Meredith Walters

  “It’s okay to cry, Corin,” my friend said, giving me permission to do the thing I was terrified to do.

  Let it out.

  All of it.

  With a sob I fell to the floor. Adam sank down beside me. He wrapped his arms around me and I wept.

  For Mom.

  For Dad.

  For Beckett.

  For me.

  “You will keep on living, Corin. You’re healthy. You’re strong. You have your whole life ahead of you. It doesn’t end here. I can promise you that.”

  “I know.” The words sounded miserable. But true. Because they were.

  I wouldn’t give up. No matter how much I wanted to.

  Not anymore.

  Beckett had taught me that.

  Tamsin came in a short time later.

  She didn’t say anything.

  She simply joined Adam and me on the floor.

  And together my sister and my friend held me while I finally cried for all the things I had lost in my life.

  For all the things I had gained.

  For all the things I hadn’t yet experienced.

  With Beckett.

  Or without him.

  They were right. I had to keep on living.

  Waiting to die wasn’t an option.

  Chapter 25

  Beckett

  I could hear her talking to me.

  But she didn’t know I was listening.

  He voice seemed to come from far away. Like in a dream I couldn’t wake from.

  Sometimes I thought I caught a whiff of paint and strawberries and I felt at peace.

  Content.

  Until I heard her crying.

  Corin never cried.

  But she cried all the time now.

  And I knew it was because of me. Because she was alone. I had left her.

  I had promised her a different ending to our story.

  I was a goddamned liar.

  “You need to sleep sometime, Cor.” I could hear her sister talking to her. Trying to get her to go home. To sleep. To eat.

  Sometimes she’d listen and leave.

  Those were dark times.

  When I knew she was gone.

  But she always came back.

  “Don’t die, Beck. Please.”

  I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. There were too many things I still wanted to do. And Corin, my beautiful, complicated Corin, had experienced too much heartache.

  Too much pain.

  But I couldn’t wake up.

  I’d go so far under that it was nothing but blackness. Dark and cold. I was alone.

  No Corin.

  No Mom and Dad.

  Nothingness that went on and on forever.

  It would be so easy to let go. To float off into the nothing.

  To leave everything behind.

  Living was so tiring.

  The struggle too much.

  I felt weighed down and I knew this was it.

  For me, this was all there was.

  “Wake up, Beck. For me…”

  I tried to listen. I tried to do as she asked but I couldn’t.

  I wasn’t strong enough to fight against a failing heart and a dying body.

  I wanted to let Corin know it was okay to let go. She needed to move on.

  Without me.

  If I could cry, I would.

  The shadows were waiting. Calling me home.

  But I stayed tethered to Corin and her constant, heartfelt pleas.

  I love you.

  I thought it hard.

  I felt it deep.

  Trapped in my body, unable to move, I loved her.

  And that love would go on and on and on.

  Long after I was dust and ash. It was never ending.

  I wished I could feel her touch me. I wished I could see her face.

  One more time.

  I felt cheated.

  Betrayed by my body.

  I had done everything right. But it hadn’t been enough.

  I had made Corin trust me. I had offered her a future. A life.

  And I was going to take it all away.

  I screamed.

  But no one could hear me.

  I was locked in silence.

  Confined in darkness.

  But I loved her.

  Even if it wasn’t enough to heal me.

  I loved her.

  Painful, consuming love.

  Just let go.

  The thought whispered unimpeded.

  Burrowing in my brain, taking root.

  Just let go. It will all be over.

  “Beckett, please come back to me.”

  I could hear her.

  She was my anchor.

  Holding me down, keeping me there.

  For now…

  I had told Corin to stop waiting for the end.

  It seemed it found us without my realizing it. The end was here.

  And there was nothing I could do about it.

  Epilogue

  Corin

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  The weather was warm.

  I was thankful for the sun.

  The cold had settled too long in my bones and it was time for me to thaw.

  I stood on the bridge on Ash Street and looked out at the stream that lazily flowed underneath me.

  It was unbothered.

  Unhurried.

  I smiled, thinking that one day I hoped to be just like that stream.

  So much had changed in those short months.

  My parents’ house had sold quickly and while it hurt sometimes to think about it being gone for good, I knew that my sister had been right. It was just a place. It couldn’t take away the memories.

  Those were mine.

  The extra cash flow had certainly helped in keeping the shop afloat. Adam and I had used a chunk of it in new marketing and supplies. We reached out to the Mended Hearts support group and a few others providing services to patients and survivors of diseases and illnesses, offering art workshops in conjunction with their meetings. It was hugely successful and we were now seeing a steady increase in business as a result.

  My friendship with Adam had changed for the better. We spent time together. We talked about things. He opened up to me about his relationship with Krista and even though they were an odd couple, he was happy. And I was happy for him.

  I continued with therapy and it was helping in ways I hadn’t thought possible. I hadn’t been dealing with my grief in a healthy way. I hadn’t been coping at all. I was working through my feelings of abandonment. My intense hypochondria, that was still so much of a problem.

  I was trying not to go to the worst-case scenario every time I sneezed but it was hard. And while my unnatural preoccupation with death had lessened considerably, I still had a long way to go.

  Issues to work through. Baggage to unload.

  I’d get there. Because staying in my isolated bubble wasn’t a possibility for me anymore.

  And that had everything to do with my one reason to live.

  “One day, baby girl, you’re going to have a fantastic life. You’re going to be happy. You will love and be loved. I see it all so clearly.”

  I hid my face in my mother’s lap, not sure I believed her.

  My mother lifted me up and made me look at her. She had only just started her chemo so her hair hadn’t started to fall out yet.

  And she was beautiful. So beautiful.

  “Believe your mom.” Her smile was dazzling. “You will have everything.”

  I found I could now remember the good things about Mom and Dad. That they came to me with more frequency than they ever had before. It felt as though I were visiting with them for the first time in years. I embraced the gift of being given my parents back.

  Tamsin was making an effort to be in my life. I had honestly thought that things would go back to the way they were before her visit. But she had been there during the entire ordeal with Beckett. She stayed at my apartment and made sure I ate and sho
wered and took care of myself.

  And then she helped me after.

  We talked about our memories of our parents, and the pain was easier to bear by sharing it with her.

  My phone rang and I looked down at the screen, smiling slightly.

  “Hey, sis,” I said after answering.

  “Hey, Cor. Where are you?”

  “At the bridge.”

  “Again?”

  “I like it here.”

  “I know. I just thought after all that time you spent there when Beck was—”

  “I like it here, Tam,” I said firmly, cutting her off.

  I didn’t want to think about those dark days when not even the sun could warm the chill in my bones.

  But the bridge, our bridge, was the only place I had been able to find a measure of solace.

  “Are you going to be there long?”

  Why was she asking?

  “Probably. I’m not in a rush to go anywhere,” I said softly, looking out at the stream. Drifting slowly. With purpose.

  “Okay. Well, I’ll call you in a bit.”

  And then she hung up. That was Tamsin. Abrupt. But at least I had stopped referring to her as “the bitch” in my head. That was a significant step.

  I tucked my phone back in my pocket and leaned against the railing, resting my chin in my hand.

  Every evening while Beck was in the ICU, I’d slip away just long enough to walk down to the bridge. I’d think about that day we had spent here while he took pictures with his phone. Shared confidences.

  Almost touching.

  Then later eating burgers out of greasy paper with butterflies in my belly but hope in my heart.

  And a kiss that started everything.

  Our beginning.

  This was our place. It always would be. I felt closer to Beckett here, staring out at the water, than by sitting at his bedside, staring at his unresponsive face. The fear was less prevalent here. I could breathe. For just a moment.

  I’d stand there, barely able to keep myself together. Hating a universe that gave me the love of my life only to take him away.

  I hadn’t been sure I’d survive.

  His parents and sister often spent the days with me keeping vigil in his hospital room. I’d listen to the sound of the respirator. The beeping of monitors. I’d hold his cold hand and imagine that it moved. I drove the nurses crazy claiming to feel a finger twitch.

  They kindly explained that involuntary muscle movements were common in coma patients.

  All I heard was stop hoping for something that won’t happen.

  At night after Beck’s family left, I’d carefully crawl up onto his bed and gently press myself into his side. I’d sleep that way until the nurse on duty found me and woke me up.

  They never told me to leave though. Even after visiting hours, they let me stay. Holding his cold, cold hand and watching his face, waiting for him to wake up.

  Even when his family started to give up, I never lost hope.

  Perhaps I was a delusional fool but hope was all I had had left.

  The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and still I stayed. The water burbled on and on.

  And still I stayed.

  Footsteps approached but I didn’t look up.

  I didn’t need to.

  “I knew you’d be here.”

  Please wake up, Beck.

  Please.

  I begged him every day. Every night.

  I pleaded. I made deals with God. I promised all manner of things if only I could see his blue eyes one more time.

  And each day my wishes, my pleas, were ignored.

  No one was listening. No one cared that I had finally let go of death only to have it find me once again.

  He was fading. Slowly.

  First it was his skin. The normal ruddy glow disappeared and was replaced by the pasty pallor caused by fluorescent lighting.

  His hair grew out too long. I trimmed it to keep it manageable. But it became brittle and dry.

  Then he began to lose his muscle definition. The nurses would come in every couple of hours and move him so he wouldn’t get bedsores. I’d help them rotate his arms. His legs. Working the muscles so they wouldn’t atrophy.

  But his firm physique disappeared.

  Every day a little more of Beckett Kingsley went away.

  And I was watching it happen.

  Just as I had watched my parents.

  Though I wouldn’t allow the waiting to destroy me.

  Because I held onto hope.

  It was all I had.

  “Don’t pretend that Tam didn’t tell you where I was.” I smiled.

  “Busted.” Laughter. Warm and full. Filling my heart.

  The footsteps stopped behind me and I waited…

  A month had passed and nothing changed.

  The doctors said his body had been through a shock. Swelling in the brain. Organs shut down.

  I barely heard them.

  Wake up, Beck. I can’t live here without you.

  I started every day the same. I’d wake up with a crick in my neck and I’d stretch. It would take me a few minutes to remember where I was.

  A few blissful moments where I was somewhere else. With Beck.

  And then I’d realize I was in the hospital. And I’d come crashing down again.

  I clung to the hope.

  Even when it wanted to desert me.

  When it had deserted everyone else. Aaron. Bryan. Zoe. His parents.

  But never me.

  I held onto it with an iron grip.

  Wake up, Beck.

  I love you.

  I’d whisper it in his ear. Telling him the words I had never said to his face.

  Over and over again.

  I love you.

  “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  I watched the stream flow. “I knew you’d find me,” I said, smiling high.

  Wake up.

  I started to become angry with him for not listening.

  For lying in his hospital bed, his eyes closed. That damned tube shoved down his throat.

  “You told me you would live. That’s all you wanted to do! So why are you just lying there? You’re a liar! A fucking liar!”

  The nurse came in, hearing me shout. I had to leave then to get myself together. I didn’t want him to hear me so upset.

  And when I came back, I held Beck’s hand again and told him I was sorry. That I loved him. That I would wait as long as it took for him to come back…

  “I’ll always find you, Cor. Just like you’ll always find me.”

  So positive.

  So sure.

  Where are you, Beck? It must be amazing to keep you away.

  I cried so much I lost track of my tears.

  Tamsin would sit with me sometimes and we’d talk about Mom and Dad. It was the first time we ever really did that.

  It was nice to remember them the way they had been.

  Before cancer. Before hospitals.

  Before death.

  And Beck was there too. Listening to the stories with his eyes closed.

  I hated the hospital.

  But I kept coming back.

  I couldn’t leave him alone.

  I’d never leave him alone.

  Hope.

  It’s what held me together.

  The hope that I’d hear his voice again. That one day I’d see his intense, blue eyes. His laugh was tattooed on my soul on an endless loop.

  “Look at me, Corin.”

  I turned around, eyes wet as I saw him down on one knee.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, grinning through my tears.

  “I’m asking you to laugh with me.”

  How would I live my life without Beckett to share it with?

  How did this man who had only come into my world such a short time ago become the most important thing in it?

  I had missed out on so much by shutting myself away. Scared to love. Scared to exist.

 
; He had taught me so much about the person I was afraid to be.

  I watched his sleeping face. Eyes that I feared would never open again, and I felt a love so deep I was drowning in it…

  “I’m asking you to dance with me.” The tears wouldn’t stop. But they were the good kind.

  The best kind.

  “I’m asking you to laugh with me.”

  I wouldn’t curl into a ball and cut myself off from the rest of the world. I had come to realize I deserved more.

  Beckett had shown me that hiding and waiting for the worst wasn’t an option.

  Not anymore.

  Not ever again.

  “I’m asking you to love with me, Corin.”

  A love that would never die even if the man who owned my heart did.

  That was the gift Beck had given me.

  He reminded me what it felt like to be alive…

  “I’m asking you to live with me.” His voice shook, cracking slightly with emotion. The tears fell from both of our eyes and neither of us did a thing to stop them.

  I thought I was dreaming.

  I could feel Beckett’s fingers in my hair. Combing softly the way he had always done before.

  I didn’t want to open my eyes. Scared that I’d lose this sweet, lost moment the second I woke up.

  The fingers stopped and I felt like crying. Missing the feel of him all over again.

  “Corin.”

  I opened my eyes. My ears ringing with the sound of a coarse, harsh voice I had begun to think I’d never hear again.

  “Corin.”

  I sat up, rubbing my face, barely able to believe what I was seeing.

  A pair of beautiful blue eyes.

  “So what do you say? Will you put me out of my misery and say yes? My knee really hurts.” Beckett made a face and I laughed.

  “I think I’m going to make you stay like that for a little while,” I said seriously.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Sheesh, Beck, where’s the romance?” I joked, crossing my arms over my chest and leveling him with a stern glare.

  Beckett grinned and I knew I’d never grow tired of seeing it.

  Especially when I thought I would never get to see it again.

  We had been given another chance.

  Another chance to live.

  “I didn’t think you would ever wake up. I thought I had lost you for good!” I sobbed, clutching Beck’s limp hand to my trembling mouth.

  “You crazy, silly girl. Don’t you know that I’ll always come back to you?”