by T L Swan
I frown when I see the name light up. Deborah…that’s weird.
Brock sits up, half asleep. “Who is it?”
“Simon’s mother,” I whisper. “Hello, Deborah.”
“Hi, Tully.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“No, darling, it’s not.”
I listen, and my eyes flicker to Brock in bed as he begins to sit up, still half asleep.
“We’re in London,” she says.
“What’s wrong?” Panic starts to make my body go cold.
“Simon’s collapsed.”
“Is he okay?” I whisper as my heart begins to hammer in my chest.
“No, Tully. He’s not. He has… he has Leukaemia.”
My whole world stops.
“W-what?” I whisper.
“They’re not sure if he’s going to make it.”
My eyes fill with tears. “What?” I whisper. “No. Are you sure?”
“He’s asking for you.”
I nod, barely to speak through the lump in my throat. “I’m on my way.”
Chapter 20
I stare at Brock, dumbfounded.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It’s Simon. He’s collapsed in London.”
Brock takes my hands in his as I sit onto the bed. “Is he okay?”
I shake my head, the horror too real. “He has Leukaemia,” I whisper. “They don’t know if he’s going to make it.”
“Fucking hell,” Brock mutters under his breath as he runs his hands though his hair.
I stand with renewed purpose. “I have to go to him.”
“What?” He frowns.
I put my hands in my hair as panic begins to set in. “I have to get a ticket.” I begin to pick up my things from the room and start throwing them on the bed quickly.
“You can’t go to London, Tully. His parents are with him, they can take care of him,” he says softly, trying to comfort me.
“I have to go!” I snap, and then my crazy eyes turn to him. “Come with me.”
I nod frantically. “Yes, yes. You need to come, and we’ll go now. You can wait in the hotel while I visit him. Please…”
“Tully, I can’t do that. I just had a week off, and we have to find Meredith.”
“Brock, please,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes. “I need you to come with me.”
He wraps his arms around me. “I want to, but you know I need to find Meredith. She’s in real danger.”
I drop to the bed.
“I don’t want you flying over there on your own. I’ll call your mother,” he says, concerned. “Or do you want to take Callie?”
“No,” I snap. “I don’t want Mum there.” I think for a moment. “Callie has to work. I’ll go alone, I’ll be fine.”
His eyes hold mine. “I’ll buy you a ticket and get you on the first plane,” he says.
Fear begins to fill me. “What if he dies, Brock?” I whisper.
He takes me into his arms and holds me tight. “He won’t. Medicine has come so far. He’ll be fine,” he whispers into my hair as he holds me.
I drop my head to his shoulder, but deep down I know that medicine hasn’t come that far. Let’s hope I’m wrong.
I sit and stare out the window of the plane, completely numb.
This is all my fault.
This is God punishing me for doing the wrong thing.
I get a vision of Simon outside my apartment that night, and the tears in his eyes as I told him I was in love with Brock.
I didn’t even have the decency to ask him in.
I was too wrapped up in myself—in my own selfish needs to think about his feelings.
He didn’t fight. He was too hurt. He never thought he would hear those words coming out of my mouth. Neither did I.
And then I went over and met Brock’s family without a second thought for Simon or what he was going through. What kind of person does that?
When did I get so cold?
I put my head into my hands in despair.
Dear God, if you’re out there, if you exist…
Please don’t let this be happening.
Not Simon. Not my beautiful Simon.
Take me instead.
You can have me, just don’t take him.
The tears roll down my face. “Are you okay, dear?” the stewardess asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I turn to her, startled. I nod, devoid of emotion. “Yes, sorry,” I murmur to her as I wipe my tears away. The man sitting next to me gives me a sympathetic smile. I know he’s concerned about me too.
She passes me a blanket. “Why don’t you try and have another sleep?”
I nod and spread the blanket over myself. I recline my seat. The last thing I can do is sleep, but I don’t want them fussing over me. They’ve been watching me do this for eighteen hours now, and I’m sure they think I’m on the edge of a break down.
Maybe I am.
The man puts his hand over my mine on the table between us. “It will be all right.”
I nod, and my eyes fill with tears again. Please don’t be nice to me. I just can’t deal with someone being nice to me. I deserve to be treated with disdain.
My mind goes to Brock, my king. He bought me a first-class ticket and took me to the airport. Not an argument or a derogatory comment to be heard. He was worried about Simon, too. He’s a good guy.
God, I love him.
The kind man next to me takes my hand in his. “I’ll hold your hand while you sleep,” he whispers.
I smile softly, my faith in the human race restored. “Thank you.”
I pull up my blanket, close my eyes, and with the warmth of a stranger’s hand against mine, I drift towards my nightmares.
“He’s in room two-one-six.” The kind nurse smiles.
I walk up and peer through the window in the door.
Simon is in bed, his father is by the window, and his mother is sitting beside him in a chair. They look so sombre.
I close my eyes as I try to prepare myself. You can do this.
I slowly walk into the room. Simon’s face lights up and I smile. “Hi, Si.”
His mother and father stand and rush to me, holding me tight. I can feel their fear through their embrace.
“Hi.” I smile, despite my tears.
I walk over to Simon, bend, and take him into my arms. He looks so sick and feels so weak, and all the pep talks I gave myself about being strong are thrown out of the window. I sob out loud. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper.
We cling to each other for an extended time. The horror before us way too real.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I turn to them.
“He’s having blood transfusions as we try to get his blood count up,” his mother says softly. “He’s very tired.”
I nod. “Okay.” I take his hand in mine and stare down at him.
“Lie with me, Tull,” he whispers.
The lump in my throat is so big, I don’t think I can stop myself from sobbing out loud again. I nod, scared to speak. I kick off my shoes and I climb onto the bed beside him, holding him tight.
“We’ll give you some time alone,” his mother says.
“I’ll stay with him tonight,” I tell them.
They glance at each other.
“Mum, go to the hotel and get some sleep,” Simon says. “Tully’s here now, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” he whispers, his eyes stay fixed on my face.
His parents eventually leave, and we lie in the dimly lit room, face to face, just like we have so many times before. I run my fingers through his hair as I try to will him to sleep. He’s too weak to talk for too long.
“I love you, Tully,” he whispers so softly that I can barely hear him.
“I love you, Si.” I cup his face, and in this moment, I do love Simon. For everything that we’ve been through together and everything that we taught each other. “You’re my best friend.” I smile softly.
“Kiss me,” he w
hispers through tears, and I know his time with me may be coming to an end.
The tears break free from my eyes, and I lean forward and tenderly kiss him as I hold his face in my hands. Our wet faces scrunch up against each other’s in pain.
He smiles, closes his eyes, and the two of us lie still for a few moments…
Until he seems too still.
“Si,” I whisper in a panic. “Simon,” I hiss as I try desperately to wake him up.
“Simon,” I say louder. “No. Don’t you leave me.” I sob. “Simon. No. Don’t you leave me,” I cry. “Please, no, Si… please?”
I jump up and press the buzzer. The nurses come running in and take over at once. I stand back with my hands over my mouth, frozen with fear.
The nurse turns to me. “Call his parents.”
I take out my phone with frantic shaky hands, and I dial the number.
“What’s wrong?” she answers.
“You have to come quickly. Something is happening,” I whisper in a panic. “Hurry.”
Two days later, I lie next to Simon on his bed. It’s late at night, and a thin stream of light is drifting through the crack in the bathroom door.
I smile. “Remember the time we wanted McDonald’s so we took your mother’s car when your parents were out, and when we got back we left the hand brake off and the car rolled into a telegraph pole?”
He smiles. “How old were we?”
“Like, fifteen.”
“Mac attack.” He chuckles. “Remember Dad’s face when he found out?”
I giggle. “What about the time we tried weed?”
“We were hardcore,” he whispers.
I smile. “We smoked joints in the park and fell asleep on a rug. Our parents called the police frantic because we didn’t come home all night.”
Simon looks over at me. “Remember how many mosquito bites we had?”
I laugh. We were covered head to toe. “That was hell, and we were grounded for forever.” We fall silent again. “Remember when you kissed me?” I whisper.
He smiles and nods. “I paid my friend to dare me to kiss you in that game of spin the bottle, just so you would go along with it.”
I run my hand down his face and cup his jaw. “I would have kissed you without the dare.”
His eyes search mine and we fall silent again. “I’m sorry.”
I frown in question. “What for?”
“I’m sorry I let you go,” he whispers. “That I didn’t try harder to make you happy.”
My eyes fill with tears. How could he possibly think that this is his fault.
“You did make me happy, Si. Every day you made me happy.”
He stares at me, and I know he wants to know why I left when there was so much good between us.
“I don’t know why,” I whisper. “If I knew the answer as to why I had to leave, I would never have left. I would have stayed and fixed it.” I put my head on his shoulder and we lie in silence for a while. I feel him smile above me, as if remembering something.
“Remember the time you made me put spray tan on you and I got it in your eye.” He smiles.
“I had to go to the emergency room over that.” I giggle.
“And only one side of your face was brown.” He chuckles. “And your mother was screaming at me for rubbing it on your face.”
I burst out laughing as I remember the commotion in the hospital that day.
We lie sleepily for a long time, and then his regulated breathing tells me he’s drifted off to sleep.
So many good times together. Too many to remember them all.
The hospital room is silent, and I sit on the chair next to Simon’s bed. I haven’t left his side in six days.
The silence is suffocating, as if our sadness has stolen all of the sound. The birds have stopped chirping and the children have stopped playing. He’s declining, and I feel like the world is about to end.
Simon is asleep, too weak to stay awake now.
Three days ago, the chaplain came in to bless him into the afterlife, and we’ve been told to make peace with his illness. They can’t get his blood count back up no matter how hard they try. The care he has been receiving has been remarkable, but it’s just not enough.
How is peace possible?
How can I make peace with an insidious disease that is threatening to take him from me forever?
Brocks’ been calling me non-stop, but it doesn’t feel right speaking to him when things are so dark over here. I’ve been giving him short texts as replies. I want to speak to him today, though. My phone lights up, and the name Brock lights up the screen. I know I need to take this.
I slowly walk down the corridor and answer. “Brock?” I whisper.
“Oh, thank God.” He sighs. “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. Are you okay?” he asks in a rush.
I shake my head and feel the tears begin to build again. “No,” I whisper. “They don’t think he’s going to make it.”
He stays silent.
“I can’t help him, Brock.”
“I’m at the hotel.”
I frown. “What?”
“When I couldn’t get you on the phone, I was frantic, so I came to London.”
“You’re here.” I smile sadly, but somehow feeling full of hope at once.
“Yeah, baby, I should have come with you in the first place. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
The tears fall free. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the Intercontinental. Where are you staying?”
“I haven’t been back to my hotel since I got here.”
“Where have you been sleeping?” he asks.
“On the chair.”
“Babe.” He sighs.
“I’ll come soon, okay?”
“Okay, I love you.” He hangs up.
I walk back into the room. Simon’s mother is sitting on the chair, and his father is at his usual place by the window. “I’m going to go back to my hotel for the night. if that’s all right.”
“Of course, dear.” His mother smiles, standing to take me into her arms. “Thank you so much for coming over,” she whispers into my hair. “Having you here is going to give Simon the will to come back to us. He loves you so much, Tully.”
I smile.
She pulls back, and her eyes search mine. “He needs you, Tully, now more than ever.”
I nod. “I know.”
She leans in and kisses my cheek. I bend over Simon and push the hair back from his forehead. “I’m going home, Si. I’ll see you tomorrow?” I whisper as I gently kiss his forehead.
He’s so lifeless now. He needs me… and I’m leaving him to go see another man.
The horrible taste of guilt fills my mouth, but I desperately try to block it out.
I turn and walk out of the hospital room, and I don’t look back.
I can’t have my last image of Simon lying in that bed as I leave him for Brock again.
What’s happening to me? Who have I turned into?
Knock, knock.
The door opens in a rush and Brock’ss beautiful face comes into view. “Hey, Pock.” He smiles warmly and wraps me in his arms.
I cling to him, the lump in my throat hurting so much. He’s so big, so strong, and he feels so… healthy. He pulls back and looks down at me as he holds me by my arms. “My God, you look exhausted. How much weight have you lost?” he asks as he pulls me into the room.
I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. It feels like he can make everything better. As if knowing just how fragile I am, he stays still and lets me just be. He brushes the hair back from my forehead and looks down at me. “Are you okay?” he whispers.
I shake my head. “No.” I kiss him softly. “But I’m better now that you’re here.”
“I should have come in the beginning, babe. I’m sorry.” He leads me into the bathroom. “Shower and sleep for you. I’ll get some room service.”
“Any news on Meredith?” I ask.
He shakes hi
s head. “No, her debit cards haven’t been used at all.”
My heart drops. “What does that mean?”
He takes my shirt off over my head. “I don’t know, babe.” He sighs sadly.
He slides my pants down my legs, and then my panties and bra, and I stand before him naked. He holds my face in his hands and kisses me softly.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in your arms.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” he breathes against my lips, hesitating as he waits for an invitation.
“You getting in with me?” I ask.
He smiles softly and slides his shirt over his shoulders, and then he drops his jeans.
My eyes roam down over his beautiful body. Suntanned skin with a dusting of black body hair. Every muscle is on display, and his dick is dying for my attention. We kiss and, unable to help it, I slide my hand down and cup his balls, stroking his thick penis.
It feels like a lifetime since he’s touched me.
“Let me wash you,” he whispers as he pulls me under the hot water. A shower with Brock is the best kind of therapy. With the steam and his hands massaging the soap into me, I feel myself relax for the first time in a week.
I need to be close to him, closer than I am. I turn to him, take his hand, and place it between my legs. “I need you,” I whisper.
His eyes darken, and he kisses me, slowly circling his fingers through my wet flesh before he slides two of his fingers into my body.
The hot water and the feel of him… oh, how badly I’ve missed him. I feel like I’m going to come already. My body shudders and I lean forward. He picks me up and wraps my legs around his body, pinning me against the tiles as he slowly slides in.
Our eyes are locked, our bodies connected, and this is one of those perfect moments of clarity where everything just feels so right.
“I love you so much,” I whisper as the water falls down over us.