by DeLuca, Gia
“It could be due to the infection your body’s trying to fight off,” she said. “Or it could just be a complication of your CF. It’s important that we not focus on why right now. We just need to focus on reversing what’s happening and getting you stabilized.”
“Well, this day’s gone to shit.” I raked my fingers through my hair, wondering how on earth I was going to tell Evie. The nurse rattled off the list of medications I’d be on and their schedules, but I didn’t hear any of it.
***
Evie returned to the hospital that evening, just a shade before nine. A giant bag hoisted over her shoulder held all of my favorite things: my laptop, several books, some magazines, and a slew of DVDs.
“If there’s anything else you want from home, just let me know,” she said as she pulled things out and began arranging them all within arm’s reach for me.
“Thanks,” I said. “Sounds like I’m going to be here a while.”
She stopped what she was doing and shot me a look. She drew in a breath. “What’d they say?”
“Infection,” I said. “Some organ failure. Stuff like that.”
“Organ failure.” She repeated the words slowly, her body frozen as every last ounce of hope fled her spirit. Her lip trembled but she forced it away, likely more for my benefit than anything else.
“Look,” I said. “I’m going to be here for a while. Why don’t you go home and sleep in our bed tonight? Come back in the morning. We’ll have all day to hang out, okay?”
She nodded reluctantly, not taking her glassy blue eyes off me for a second. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning.” She walked over to me and kissed me, leaving her taste on my lips.
I was dying. There was no way around it. It didn’t matter how happy I was, and it sure as hell didn’t matter how loved I was. There was no amount of love in the world great enough to keep me alive. It was time to stop denying the inevitable.
The second Evie left my room, I cracked open my laptop, pulled up my email, and began composing an email to my brother.
EVIE
The screams escaping my lips as I crumpled to a heap on the floor of the shower were childish, feverish, unrecognizable. Julian was dying, and no amount of hope or faith or love was going to change that.
The scalding water pouring from the showerhead above sizzled against my skin, turning it bright red, but I didn’t care. I wanted to feel something else. If I focused on the pain on the outside, perhaps the pain on the inside would feel dull in comparison.
I stood up, letting the water run down my naked body, washing away as much of that shitty day as I could. It all swirled around the drain, mixing with my tears, and I took great satisfaction when the drain made a slurping sound, sucking it all away.
I was foolish to ever think I could create my own destiny with a dying man.
***
Three weeks. That was how long Julian stayed at the hospital. Three long, awful, sleepless weeks. To be honest, I hadn’t slept much since he returned home. I spent most nights lying awake, watching his chest rise and fall and listening to him breathe.
I spent most days in full nurse mode. Medications. Therapies. Treatments. Appointments. Not a single pill missed and not a single symptom dismissed. I was sure I annoyed Julian, but I didn’t care.
“Today’s the first day of summer,” I said to him over breakfast that Saturday morning.
“Yeah, I can smell it,” he teased. The warm morning sunlight that poured in through the stained glass window behind him washed over him and brought color to his sallow skin. He still wasn’t one hundred percent, but he was getting there. He just wanted things to be back to normal. We both did.
“How are you feeling today?” I asked, quite sure he hated the fact that I asked him that fifty times a day.
“I actually feel pretty good,” he said earnestly. “I’m sure I don’t look it, but this is the best I’ve felt in a while.”
“Are you just saying that?” I asked. “I feel like you’re just telling me what I want to hear.”
“I promise, Evie,” he said, crossing his heart. “God’s honest truth. I feel like a million bucks today, relatively speaking.”
A relieved smile crossed his sexy mouth, and I couldn’t resist it any longer. I sprung up from my seat and sat down in his lap, hooking my arm around his shoulders and leaning in for a minty morning kiss.
“I am so, so happy to hear that.” A knock at the door jerked our attention, and I stood up to peek out the window. “It’s my mom.”
“Good morning,” she said as I pulled the door open. She stood there with wicker basket hanging from her arm. “I did a little baking this morning. Thought you might like some muffins.”
My mom rarely stopped by, and hardly ever did she stop by unannounced. The muffins were just an excuse.
“Thanks,” I said, reaching out for the basket.
My mom casually peered around my shoulder, taking in the sights of my disheveled house. Cleaning hadn’t exactly been a priority since Julian’s little scare. I had more important things to worry about.
“I’ll be honest,” she said, her voice low, “I know how much you’ve been caring for Julian lately. I just wanted to stop by and check on you. Make sure you’re okay. You’re caring for him, but who’s caring for you?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” I forced a smile and hoped she wouldn’t see clear through me like she always did.
“You say that, but…” Her eyes drifted around the house once again.
“I know my house is a mess.” I crossed my arms, instantly getting defensive.
“Do you need a break, honey?” she offered. “Do you want me to do a little cleaning for you? When was the last time you saw Carys?”
She had a point, but the thought of leaving Julian instantly put me on edge. Then again, a little Carys might be good for me.
“I’d kill for a hot bath right now,” I said. “If you want to straighten up a bit, you’re more than welcome to.”
My mom’s face lit up as she sat her purse down by the door and got to work filling the sink with hot, soapy water. She made small talk with Julian in the kitchen as she made herself right at home.
I walked to the bathroom where I drew the hottest bubble bath I could possibly stand. Leaning back with bubbles clear up to my ears, I stayed in until the water turned lukewarm and my fingers and toes had pruned. I took my sweet time getting ready, something I hadn’t done in almost a month, and actually styled my hair. I slapped on a bit of makeup, marveling at the stranger looking back at me in the mirror. She had color. She looked alive, even vibrant.
I emerged from the bathroom a new woman, and the scent of pines and lemon wafted from the kitchen where my mother was hard at work.
“Where’s Julian?” I asked. “Oh, my gosh. I can see my counters!”
“He went back to sleep,” she said, her voice a hushed whisper. “Said he was tired. He told me to tell you to go see Carys. He’ll be fine.”
A smile crept across my face. Even on his hardest days, he still only thought of me. I walked over to my mom and wrapped my arms around her as she dried the final dish. “Thanks, Mom. Sorry I was so grouchy before. You always know exactly what I need.”
“As soon as Julian wakes up, I’ll vacuum,” she said, not missing a beat. She loved to feel needed. “I started a load of laundry, too.”
“You’re the best,” I called out as I grabbed my things and headed out the door.
***
“Evie Cawthorn!” Carys exclaimed when she opened her door. “Is it really you?”
“Stop,” I laughed. “My mom is holding down the fort for a bit. Thought I’d come hang out with you.”
“Aw,” Carys said, widening her door to let me in. “I missed your face.”
“Missed your face more,” I said. Being around Carys was always an instant mood changer. She could make me forget just about anything. Just about.
“Get your hot little ass in here,” she said.
I p
lopped down on her couch and listened as she rattled on about work and her brothers and her family and people we went to school with. Carys always had the latest gossip, and she was never short on topics. I let her ramble because all I needed right then, in that moment, was to feel an ounce of normalcy.
“You wanna go out tonight?” Carys said hours later. “A bunch of people are going to be at Mulligan’s.”
“I don’t know,” I said, my mind immediately drifting to Julian. I didn’t want to leave him home alone on a Saturday night.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “You’re going.”
“Let me text Julian,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket.
***
“What’s going on tonight?” I asked Carys as we entered Mulligan’s. At Julian’s insistence and Carys’ unrelenting persistence, I took the night for myself.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess people are home from college now, so they all hang out here on Saturday nights.”
Patrons stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the small bar, and I recognized almost everyone. “Does this count as our high school reunion?”
My stomach churned as my mind wandered to Spencer for the first time in months, and I hated myself for even thinking about him. I’d kicked him from my heart the second I realized he was incapable of being a decent human being, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be taking up any room in my head.
Carys made a beeline for the bar and ordered us two drinks as I found some empty seats in a booth with some people from high school.
“Drink up, chicky,” Carys said, returning with our drinks. “Shots are coming.”
“Shots?” I asked, sipping on some fruity-looking drink in a martini glass.
“Liquid cocaine,” she said, eyeing the look of reluctance that washed over me. “Come on, Evie. Live a little. Just for tonight.”
“Evie?” a guy’s voice said from behind me.
“Spencer,” I said dryly. I didn’t have to look at him to know exactly who it was. “Didn’t expect to run into you tonight.”
“Likewise,” he said as I turned to face him, giving him a dirty look. His whole face lit up in my presence. There was no denying it. I secretly took pleasure in knowing he’d lost me for good.
“Can I help you with something?” I said in the most sarcastic tone I could muster as I took generous swills of my martini. “Not hanging out with your girlfriend tonight?”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “I ended things with her months ago.”
I smirked. “Is that supposed to make me happy, or something?”
“After I spent time with you, I realized I didn’t want to be with her anymore,” he said, his steel blue eyes shifting uncomfortably. He was never good at being forthright about anything. Letting his guard down tended to make him nervous.
“Shots are here!” Carys announced, providing a much needed break from that conversation. I took the cool shot glass in my hands and tossed it back, letting the sweet liquid linger on my tongue and then wash down my throat with a light burn.
Spencer grabbed me by the crook of my arm and pulled me aside, away from the table of gawking high school friends and into a secluded corner.
“I’m not hung up on you anymore,” I said, taking back my power. “Just so you know.”
“I dropped out of Vanderbilt,” he said, locking eyes with me.
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“Actually, I was suspended for bad grades.” He looked so ashamed that I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“I bet Daddy Warbucks wasn’t too pleased about that,” I muttered. Warmth spread over my body from head to toe as the shot kicked in.
“I’m just going to State for a bit,” he said. “It’s just half an hour from here. My dad’s making me live at home. I’m trying to talk him into getting me my own apartment though, here in town.”
“Good for you,” I said sarcastically. “Funny how things work out in life, huh?”
I tasted the irony in my words, though I’d never admit that.
Spencer glanced down at the shimmering diamond eternity band wrapped around my left ring finger.
“So, you did get married,” he observed. “Wasn’t sure if that was a rumor or what. Good job, Ev. You married well.”
I rolled my eyes and for a split second thought about tossing the rest of my drink into his smug face.
“You could’ve had me,” I said. “But you passed. And then I found something better. You’ll never be half the man Julian is. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” My eyes began to well. There was no hiding it, not even in the darkness of the bar. “And he’s fucking dying.”
My arms suddenly felt wiggly, like Jell-O, and for a minute I just wanted someone to hold me, even if it was Spencer.
“That sucks,” he said casually, his words cold and unfeeling. “Wanna go shoot some pool, or something?”
I glared at him. What the fuck was I doing wasting precious time talking to an arrogant asshole like Spencer when the love of my life was at home, asleep in our bed?
“I should go,” I said, setting my glass on a nearby table. I walked out, quickly waving bye to Carys and motioning that I’d call her later.
“You have a good time tonight?” Julian said as I crawled into bed with him a short time later.
“Shh,” I said, situating myself next to his warm body and slipping my arms under his. There was no place I’d have rather been than right there with him. “Go back to sleep.”
“I love you, Evie,” he said dreamily.
“I love you more,” I told him. More than he would ever know.
He rolled over, awake, leaning in to kiss my mouth. He tasted like toothpaste, as if he’d only recently gone to bed.
“You wait up for me?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
I smiled. “Have I ever told you how happy you make me?”
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he replied.
“Every day.”
A serious expression fell upon his face. I could see it in the darkness of our bedroom. “You know you’re always going to be loved, even long after I’m gone.”
“Julian,” I said, scrunching my face. “Why are you talking like that?”
“I’m not going to live forever,” he said, his voice a near whisper. “But I’ll make sure you’re loved forever.”
“How do you know I’ll be loved forever?”
“How could anyone not fall madly in love with you?” he said. “Trust me. You’re going to have a beautiful life, Evie. I promise.”
“Can we stop talking about this?” I asked, trying to push away the empty feeling that swallowed me whenever I thought about a life without Julian. “Let’s talk about tomorrow. What do you want to do tomorrow?”
Julian smiled and tugged me close, wrapping me in his warm embrace. “Goodnight, my love.”
EVIE
I awoke to an empty bed. The alcohol must’ve made me sleep long and hard. That, or I just needed it. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted from the hall, indicating Julian was already up.
I smiled at the thought of him cooking something. The kitchen certainly wasn’t Julian’s domain, but God bless him for trying. The fact that he’d even attempted to make breakfast was a good sign. It meant he was feeling better.
I melted back into the soft covers, not in any kind of a hurry to get up. And then my stomach rumbled. I crawled out from the warm blankets and headed down the hall, but the second the door swung open, I was greeted with the most putrid, sulfuric smell I’d ever smelled before.
“Julian, are you burning something?” I called out as I headed toward the kitchen. We’d have to open some windows and get some candles going. “Oh, my God. No. No. No…”
A skillet filled with burning eggs sizzled on the gas stove while Julian laid unconscious on the kitchen floor. I grabbed my purse and dialed 9-1-1 as I checked his pulse.
“He’s breathing and he has a pulse,” I said to the 9-1-1 operato
r as she dispatched an EMS team. “But he’s unresponsive.”
Within minutes help had arrived, and I stood back to let them do their thing. I watched with my heart in my stomach as they loaded him up on a stretcher and wheeled him to the back of the ambulance. Once I crawled in behind them, I sat at his side, holding his hand and never letting go.
***
“His liver and pancreas are shutting down,” the doctor said hours later.
I was lying in Julian’s hospital bed with him. I didn’t care how silly it looked. I didn’t care about a damn thing in that moment besides him.
“How?” I asked. “He was just released from here a few days ago. His numbers were better. He was feeling better.”
I questioned myself. I questioned everything. How could I, a trained medical professional, have not seen any warning signs?
“It’s a complication of his disease, Mrs. Garner-Willoughby,” the doctor said. “This is, unfortunately, not uncommon.”
I buried my head into the crook of Julian’s neck, snuggled in tight as I waited for the doctor to leave. I just wanted to be alone with him.
“I think we’ve spent more time in hospital beds together than our own,” I said to him. “Kind of messed up, huh?”
It made me feel better to talk to him, even if he couldn’t respond. I knew he heard me. I knew he felt me. Julian was a strong man. He’d been through so much and come out on top every time, and I refused to believe this time was going to be any different.
“I know you can hear me,” I whispered into his ear. Our fingers interlaced, I continued, “I love you so much. Please don’t leave me. Okay?”
I breathed him in. All of him. Sterilized hospital gown. Burnt eggs. A hint of soap from his morning shower. And then I felt it: a squeeze. Or maybe it was a twitch.
“Julian,” I said, springing up. “Do that again.”
I waited. And waited. But there was nothing. I told myself I’d just imagined it, but a small part of me held out a tiny sliver of hope.
I stayed by his side the rest of the day, leaving only once to grab a quick bite and some coffee from the cafeteria. I studied his face for signs that he was waking up, and at times, I swore to the nurses I’d seen his eyes flutter or his face twitch. I never let go of his hand, hoping for one more squeeze.