by Emma Lea
“I love you Brandi,” Caitlyn whispered.
“I love you too,” Brandi replied.
The orientation of the screen changed and Declan’s face came into view as he left the room. When the door was closed and he was safely out of earshot of Caitlyn he spoke to Brandi.
“I don’t think they are going to make it home,” he said. “She’s fading fast and the doctors are worried that moving her now will only speed up the end.”
Brandi let the tears fall and nodded. She wouldn’t get to see Caitlyn before she died, that’s what he was trying to tell her.
“Oh God,” she sobbed, no longer able to hold it in.
“I’ve put her parents in contact with the solicitor we set up to administer the trust. He will make sure to take care of all their financial needs until they can go back to work.”
“Have they talked about the funeral yet?” Brandi asked.
Declan shook his head. “Not yet. I’ve given them my cell number and told them to call me with all the details when they’re ready.” He paused and swallowed. Brandi could see the glassiness of his eyes and realised that he was just barely holding it together as well. “God,” he breathed. “This is so fucking unfair.”
“I know,” she whispered reaching out to touch his face on the screen.
“I want to be with you,” he said looking at her with intensity.
“I’m still contagious,” she replied, “Another couple of days.”
This stomach bug had been relentless. Dr. Google had said the symptoms could last up to ten days, she was now pushing five. She was as weak as a kitten and barely able to tolerate solid food. As much as she wanted to feel the comfort of Declan’s arms, she didn’t want him to get sick as well. When she could get through a whole day without rushing to the bathroom, then she would know that she was on the mend. Unfortunately, that wasn’t today. This stupid stomach bug didn’t even respect her grief and she felt the stirring in her stomach that heralded another imminent visit to the bathroom. When this was all said and done she was going to hire a cleaner to come and scrub her bathroom with industrial grade disinfectant. She may even hire a contractor to rip the whole thing out and replace it just in case the damned germs were strong enough to survive the cleaner.
“This sucks,” Declan breathed and hung his head. He took a long breath and then exhaled. “Okay. I’m going to let you get back to bed and get some rest. I have a meeting with Simon in half an hour to do a test run on the software.
She tried to smile, but it fell flat. “Can you…” she took a breath and forced down the tears. “Could you hold me up to the window of the room. I just want to see her one last time.”
His eyebrows drew together in a concerned frown but he nodded and turned the iPad around so that she could see into Caitlyn’s room. Caitlyn’s mum and dad sat close to the bed, the heads hung low as they each held a hand. She was surrounded by medical equipment, but she was also surrounded with flowers and pictures and cards and stuffed toys. None of it would matter when she was gone and Brandi didn’t know how she would ever fill the Caitlyn shaped hole in her heart.
As she looked at Caitlyn lying in the bed, her face pale, the dark circles under her eyes and the jerky, laboured breaths that filled her small chest, Brandi knew that she was in pain and that this was no way for the little girl to live. But losing her felt like a stake through the heart. Wanting Caitlyn to stay here on earth with the rest of the mortals was selfish. She deserved to be free, to fly with the angels instead of being trapped here in a body that had betrayed her. Caitlyn deserved to be unbound by the chains of pain and disease and to soar through heaven with a carefree heart. But Brandi wanted her to stay. She wanted her to be here on earth so that they could have their little chats and Caitlyn could exclaim over each of her new costumes. She wanted to see Caitlyn grow up and fall in love. She knew it was unfair for her to want that when Caitlyn was in such obvious pain. She knew it was selfish to want to keep Caitlyn here because losing her would hurt too much. But she didn’t have any say in the matter. Caitlyn was dying and she was tired. Brandi had to let her go.
“Okay,” she whispered and Declan swung the screen around to face her. His cheeks were wet and his lashes starred with tears. A sob choked her throat and she disconnected the call. She couldn’t watch him break down when she couldn’t be there to comfort him or have him comfort her.
Caitlyn died later that night surrounded by her family. Tracey called Brandi early the next morning and told her the news while thanking her for everything she had done for Caitlyn in the time she’d known her. The funeral was today, four days later. Brandi was thankful that she was well enough to attend. The nausea and vomiting had left her the morning she found out about Caitlyn. She had spent the day in bed, grieving for the little girl who had come to mean so much in her life. She had kept Declan at bay, not quite ready to see him, but he was coming to pick her up and they were going to the funeral together.
Brandi was dressed in a simple black dress and her hair was twisted up in a simple French knot. It felt wrong somehow to be wearing black to celebrate the life of a little girl who’d brought so much colour into Brandi’s life. She wanted to wear the Belle costume, the bright yellow ball gown that was Caitlyn’s favourite, but she knew others would find it inappropriate. There were rules about grief, unspoken rules that Brandi was beginning to learn. It was okay for her to be sad, but she wasn't related to Caitlyn and others looked down on her for her very obvious grief. Apparently, it was only appropriate for the family to feel that way and according to what she’d overheard at the office, it was weird that she was so torn up about it. Brandi thought that was bullshit. She’d also overheard someone else say that Brandi had known the little girl was sick with terminal cancer so she shouldn’t be so surprised that the girl had died. Fuckers. They had no idea of the huge hole Caitlyn had left in her life. She had started working from home, not prepared to face the judgement of others about her mourning process.
But today was different. Today she was allowed to be sad and to cry and let herself feel all the pain and sorrow of losing someone who was infinitely precious to her. She didn’t bother to put on mascara because even the waterproof stuff would not hold up to the torrent of tears that she was going to cry today. She wouldn’t feel guilty about it either. She wouldn’t care that other people thought she was being overly emotional or too caught up in her grief. She wouldn’t care that people didn’t think it was appropriate for her to be so upset about it all. Today she would be unashamed of her grief and she would say goodbye to Caitlyn without fear of judgement.
There was a soft knock on her door and she grabbed her purse. Declan was waiting for her dressed in a black suit, white shirt and black tie. It was the first time they’d seen each other since she had gotten sick at that party which was only a week and a half ago but felt like a year. He stepped forward and folded her into his arms. She rested against him, drawing strength from the warmth of his body and the firmness of his embrace. She had missed him, desperately, but had known that she couldn’t lean on him. It wasn’t fair to either of them. She needed to traverse this period of her life without a crutch or she would never learn to live again.
Without speaking they separated and Brandi followed Declan out to his car. He drove them across the city to the church where the service would be held. It was a small white chapel that was no doubt more used to hosting weddings than funerals, but Brandi thought it a fitting venue to farewell such a sweet little girl. They parked and held hands as they walked up to the entrance where they were greeted by Caitlyn’s parents. Tracey hugged Brandi and for a brief moment they held on to each other, bonded by their grief.
“Thank you,” Tracey whispered in her ear. “Thank you for everything.”
Brandi squeezed her in reply, not able to speak without falling apart.
Declan placed a hand on the small of her back and ushered her into the church where they found a seat. He kept her close and she leant on him, allowing herself to ne
ed him today. Tomorrow she could be strong. Tomorrow she could start putting her life back together, but for today she needed him and his stoic presence to help her make it through.
The service was blur of tears and beautiful words and sad songs. The family showed a video of photos from Caitlyn’s life and there was even one of her and Caitlyn together with her dressed as Snow White. She remembered that day. It was a precious memory that she would hold forever in her heart. All the while Declan held her close, wrapping his arm around her or holding her hand. He didn’t look down on her grief as something to be ashamed of, but seemed to understand exactly what she was feeling. His easy acceptance of her was like a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. Right from the moment they had met, he had always seen beneath the exterior and she was never more grateful for that than right now.
Brandi couldn’t keep the tears in when Caitlyn’s small coffin was carried past her and out to the hearse. The family was having Caitlyn’s remains cremated and Tracey had told Brandi that they would let her know when they were ready to have her ashes scattered. There was a small wake held in the little annexe off the chapel and after she had spoken briefly to Tracey and her husband she looked up at Declan and he knew without her saying a word that it was time to go.
16
The drive back to Brandi’s apartment was quiet. Declan couldn’t make sense of the emotions swirling inside him and it left him feeling off kilter. He had met Caitlyn, had spent time with her and had liked her a great deal, but surely grief was reserved for those closest to her. Surely her death shouldn’t have such a profound impact on him… except that somehow it did. He’d never had anyone really close to him die. His grandparents of course, but it wasn’t the same when he’d known they’d lived long and fulfilled lives. Caitlyn hadn’t even begun to live hers. It made him question his own life and what the actual fuck he was doing with it.
Declan had grown up in a world of privilege and excess. He’d never wanted for anything. Even his burning desire to build an empire separate from his family’s had been more out of rebellion than anything else and he hadn’t had to struggle to achieve it. Sure, it hadn’t all been plain sailing. He’d bought his first dilapidated hotel with no actual clue as to what he was doing. He’d stayed in hotels but had never worked in one and knew nothing about what went on behind the scenes. His strength, if that’s what you could call it, was knowing the right people to gather around him in order to make his dream a reality. He had relied on the skills of others and learned what he needed to along the way. He had achieved more than most people ever would but in the light of Caitlyn’s death it all seemed so insignificant.
He wasn’t used to feeling this…self-awareness.
He played a part; he was the perennial Peter Pan who never wanted to grow up. It didn’t take a psychologist to help him understand that being the youngest and seeing what happened to his siblings as they matured had made him into this man-child. He didn’t want to share their fate and had played on his boyish charm to hold off the heavy mantle of responsibility that came with being a Mayfield. He knew that as soon as he showed the signs of having tired of his childish pursuits, the shackles would clamp around him and bind him to a future that he had been running from all is life.
But in the aftermath of Caitlyn’s funeral, he realised that none of it meant anything in the long run. When he died he couldn’t take it with him, so what was the point of striving over it now? When he died, the only thing left behind would be a pile of money and several piles of bricks and mortar. An empty shell of what he slaved over to build and it wouldn’t matter who had controlling interest in it then because he would be gone.
Brandi reached over the console and took his hand in hers. It jolted him out of his spiral.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.
“Nothing,” he lied, not willing to burden her with his feelings of futility. “You?”
She sighed and looked out the window of the car. “I was just thinking of how I can honour Caitlyn’s memory,” she said. “Caitlyn was such a special girl with such a big heart and I feel like I want to somehow immortalise her.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”
“No,” he said, his voice tight, “it doesn’t sound stupid at all.” He took a breath. “Do you know what I was thinking about?” She looked over at him, curiosity in her eyes. “I was thinking about how everything I’ve achieved means nothing. I’ve made money and built a billion dollar business, but what does any of it mean? Caitlyn lived for such a short time and yet,” it was his turn to sigh, “and yet, she had such a big impact on those around her.”
He pulled the car up to the curb, parking in front of her building and turning to look at her. A tear slipped from her eye and trickled down her cheek. He caught it on the end of his finger and looked down at the small drop of salty water.
“Come on,” he said softly, “let’s go inside.”
She followed him meekly into the building and snuggled into his side as they rode the elevator up to her floor. She handed over her keys and he let them into the apartment. He walked over to her living space and sat, pulling her down on his lap. He cuddled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her and breathing her in. He kissed the top of her head and felt her stiff resolve break. She sobbed quietly into his chest and he smoothed his hand over her back, whispering nonsense words into her hair as she cried. He felt her grief, separate from his own. He had only known Caitlyn a short time but she had impacted him. Brandi had known her longer and he felt the way her heart broke for the little girl who had been her friend. He held her tightly, physically but also metaphorically, wanting her to know that he had her, that she could let down all her defences and he would be there to hold her together.
He was swamped with the need to care for her. He’d felt it last week when she was sick and there was nothing he could do, but today, now, as she mourned, he felt it more acutely. He hated that she hurt, it was almost a physical pain in his chest when he thought about the pain she was feeling. He wanted to take it from her, to carry the burden of grief that weighed her down. He wanted to ease her suffering in any way that he could. The yearning to make her world right again was so fierce that it almost made him gasp.
Brandi turned her tear-soaked eyes up to him and his heart clenched with everything he was feeling. She stretched up and brushed her lips against his and he felt like he could breathe again, not realising that he had stopped.
“I need you,” she whispered against his lips, “I need you to make me feel alive again.”
The need to have Declan was overwhelming. One part of her brain screamed at her and told her that it was completely inappropriate to want to make love after such a harrowing event and yet…there was another part of her that needed to remind herself that she was still alive. Whether it was a primal urge to procreate when death was threatened or some other twisted need, Brandi couldn’t deny that she wanted Declan to make her forget the pain she was feeling. She wanted to escape the empty feeling inside her that she knew only he could fill. She knew it would be fleeting and that at the end of it all that feeling of emptiness would return, but she needed it filled for now, for just a short time so that she could feel alive and human and not some numb parody of what she used to be.
He looked down at her with such tenderness that it warmed her all over. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky and his eyes dark with desire, mirroring hers.
“Yes,” she breathed and kissed him again.
He stood up and carried her to the bedroom where he laid her out and watched her as he pulled off his tie and kicked off his shoes. There was something intense simmering between them. In times past when they had come together there had been an abandonment, a fun that infused the atmosphere, but today was different. There was desire, yes, but there was something heavier, deeper. Something more.
Brandi wriggled out of her dress and underwear while Declan continued to undress. When he stood before her, na
ked, she took in her first full breath all day. This. This was what she needed. He rested one knee on the bed and reached for her bedside where he had placed a condom packet. She reached over and stilled his hand.
“Not today,” she said softly. “I need to feel all of you today.”
He frowned down at her and she could tell he was conflicted. He wanted her without anything between them as much as she did, but he wanted to make sure.
“I’m on the pill,” she assured him, “and I’m clean…I…I just need—”
He silenced her with a kiss. “I’m clean too,” he said as he positioned himself over her, covering her body with his.
She closed her eyes at the sensation of his warm, bare skin as it settled over her. She wanted to be completely surrounded by him - his touch, his scent, the sound of his breathing, the intensity of his eyes.
“Open your eyes, Brandi,” he whispered and she did, gazing up into his hazel depths, drinking him in.
He slid into her slowly, taking his time, his eyes not leaving her, his gaze anchoring her to him as they joined together as one. She had never really understood that phrase before, but now, with Declan seeing into her very soul as he connected them intimately, she got it. Something changed between them in that moment. That heaviness that had been in the air settled around them like a cloak and she felt bound to him in that moment.
“Brandi.” Her name on his breath was a caress and her eyes fluttered closed as he began to move.
She wrapped herself around him, not wanting any air to get between their bodies. Legs tangled and arms vice-like around his shoulders, she moved with him. His breath was hot in her ear as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. She opened her mouth on the plump muscle of his shoulder, tasting him and inhaling the smell of his skin. Wrapped up in Declan like this, there was no space for anything else. There was no pain, no grief, no sadness. There was just him and the way he made her feel. He punched through the bubble of numbness that had surrounded her and for the first time in what felt like years but was only days, her senses came alive. Feeling rushed in, swamping her. Colours were brighter, sounds were sharper, the feel of skin on skin was amplified. She could smell his aftershave and that very essence that was his and his alone. The salty taste of his skin exploded on her tongue and she squeezed her eyes shut as he drove her higher. He nipped at her neck as he thrust into her and she cried out. She dug her nails into the skin of his back and he grunted with the sharp pain, returning the favour in kind with a sharp bite to her shoulder. Her tender nipples were abraded by the light hairs on his chest as they rocked together and she was now on overload. Too many sensations, too much sensory input. It sent her reeling, careening over the edge and into a violent climax that had her body trembling with the force of her release. Declan followed her over, his cock throbbing deep within her as he came, a guttural cry wrenched from his throat.