The Brightness Duet: Complete Series Boxset

by Bri Stone

  “Thom, aren’t you mad at me?” There is a small bench and I pull him to sit down with me. I turn to face him, trying to find answers in his eyes.

  “No, I’m happy for you.” His brows tighten.

  “But I...I know I should have told you before, I just didn’t know how. And I had to give them an answer before they filled my spot, I didn’t want...I was afraid for what it would mean for us.” I ramble.

  My hand shakes as I smooth it over my head. Thom takes my hands in his and kisses them both.

  “I’m afraid too, but I don’t want to talk about it tonight. Not on your birthday.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t care about that, I want to know what you’re thinking.” My voice is a little more than a whisper.

  “I’m not thinking much. It’s a great opportunity and I would have done the same thing, and I’m not going to take it from you.” He stands up, but I am still stuck on the tone of his voice. I know he means what he is saying, but it just sounds like he doesn’t care...

  “Thom...”

  “Perrie, it’s fine. I’m happy for you, this is a good thing.” He cups my face and I lean into his touch, staring into his eyes to find the cracks. “Let’s go home, you ready?” His hands drift down to rub my arms.

  “Yeah.” I believe that he really doesn’t have any bad feelings, but I have trouble processing it.

  We hail a cab and head back to my place. The silence between us is comfortable, familiar. Back in the bedroom he undresses, and I go in the closet to hang everything back up. I glance at my ring and almost forget it was there. I love how it feels on my finger, like the weight of it is a constant reminder of us.

  I throw on a big tee shirt, wash my face and brush my teeth, then meet Thom back in the bedroom. He is hunched over, reading something on his phone.

  “Hey.” I saunter towards him.

  He looks up, “hey. Checking emails.” He sets his phone aside and beckons me to come closer. I smile softly as he holds me between his legs. I set my hands on his bare shoulders as he grips my thighs.

  He kisses my naval over my shirt, but the heat of his lips still sears through me. I curl my fingers over his ears and it makes him purr against me. He pulls me closer in a hug, wrapping his strong arms tightly around my stomach. I fall forward, resting my cheek on the top of his head. I inhale his scent, revel in the feel of him grasping me. I don’t know how I manage to do without this.

  It’s amazing how much humans can feel like they can’t do something, then do it anyway.

  “I love you so much.” He murmurs against me.

  I turn the ring over on my finger, thinking of how permanent it really is. It still feels the same as the day I got that letter, the ring is like a kiss after he says he loves me. It’s nice, but it really isn’t necessary.

  “I love you too.” I want to ask him why he is so calm, why he isn’t wondering how the hell we are going to do this. But I don’t.

  Instead I just straddle him on the bed and he spends what seems like hours worshipping my body, buried inside me as he tells me how much he loves me until I fall asleep in his arms.

  I EXPECT TO WAKE UP against Thom, but I don’t. A blurry glance at my wall clock tells me it is barely five in the morning.

  “Thom?” I rasp.

  I sit up, my breasts exposed to the closed air as I look around the room. The first thing I notice is that his bag is gone. I put my shirt back on and pad into the bathroom, but he isn’t there. I drink a glass of water and then go out into the main room to find him in the kitchen.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I ask him.

  Thom is fully dressed in jeans and a black Henley; the sight is familiar but the cold in the air isn’t. The look in his eyes as he meets mine sends hard chills down my back, floods through my fingers until it stalls around my ring. I hug my arms around myself as I cross the island to face him. His bag is on the counter, his hands are clenched.

  “I have to go.”

  “Go? I thought you were leaving tomorrow, what’s going on?” I don’t know why my throat cracks with the threat of tears, but it does. My eyes burn as they blur.

  “I’m sorry, Perrier.”

  The room cracks, and the space between us quakes.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “This...there is no way this will work now.” He faces me, but his gaze is fixed on the floor and his hands are clenched in his pockets. I don’t even have the heart to get him to look at me.

  “What?”

  “Perrie,” his gaze finds mine and it is so cold, “you’re going to Paris. That isn’t a flight I can make often, and we don’t know how taxing fourth year will be. It doesn’t make sense to...drag this out.”

  “Drag this out?” I raise my voice, “we’re engaged Thom. You asked me to marry you. I want to marry you—what the hell does that mean?”

  He shakes his head sadly. “It means...I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Wh-what do you mean?” I think I mean to say that, but the tears have choked my throat and the sobs have made me sound illiterate. I wipe my face and grab his arms, demanding an answer from him.

  “Thom! You love me, and I love you! There—”

  “That isn’t enough, Perrier.”

  I shake my head, twitching at the use of my full name. “Yes, it is...Thom, we can still be together. When I get back, I will do my fellowship wherever you are. I’ll do whatever it takes to get accepted...” I plead with him.

  Suddenly the best program doesn’t matter. Suddenly, the best mentors don’t mean shit. All that matters is Thom. Us.

  “It isn’t that simple Perrier, we can’t hold each other back anymore.”

  “We aren’t! Is this because I didn’t tell you about Paris before I agreed to it?” I asked.

  I know I have done a lot of shit before, been dishonest, and I wonder if that was my last strike.

  But Thom isn’t that vindictive, and he doesn’t have a conspirative bone in his body.

  “No. It’s not. That’s your future, and I won’t keep you from it anymore.” He grabs his bag and moves to leave but I follow, grabbing his arm to stop him.

  “No, wait! You aren’t keeping me from anything, don’t do this! I thought you wanted to marry me, Thom. To be with me forever. I want to!” I cry out.

  I become a snuffling mess of tears and sobs, blurting out so many things I cannot even keep up with and I am only stopped by his outburst. The kind that shatters people. The kind that cripples people, and the words that no one ever wants to hear from someone they love.

  “I cheated on you.” Thom says it with a straight face; an even tone as if he is talking about the weather.

  Everything stops. My breath, my heart, my sobs. By the time I process it; picture him with someone else, imagine what she looks like, I break into a hard gasp and the tears flow again. My heart starts again, fueled by anger.

  “What...” I practically snarl.

  He doesn’t even look at me. His breath doesn’t even rise.

  Every bone in my body wants to believe he isn’t capable of cheating on me. I want to tell myself he is lying and that this is just a ploy, a shield for something else. But I can’t imagine what. And I can’t imagine why he would lie about such a horrible thing, so I stop guessing.

  I stop thinking.

  I stop giving him the benefit of the doubt, but I can’t stop telling myself he deserves it. Because he can’t even look at me. I put together the pieces; his odd behavior since he got here...I knew he was hiding something. But I never thought it was this.

  As if it wasn’t enough to hurt me, as if cheating on me wasn’t a good enough cause of death to our relationship.

  He looks right at me, or through me, I couldn’t tell, because he was too busy stabbing my heart. “I always thought you would be the one to destroy us. Guess I was wrong.”

  There is no more air. There is...there is nothing. The only motion I manage is to take the ring off my finger and throw it at him. He simply bends over to pick
it up and walks out the door.

  What he doesn’t know, and what I didn’t even know, is that he takes my soul with him.

  Chapter Eighteen: Thom

  “You spend all your time with me, how do you make any friends?”

  “I have friends...” I lie. I had people I talked to in class and study with, but no one knew about my mom; so, I don’t have friends. Honestly, growing up I never really needed them. Everyone else had their best bud in school, but when we all went to college, those relationships faded away.

  “No, you don’t, honey. You’re always here. When you aren’t here, you’re in school. It can’t be good for you.” Mom starts coughing and I immediately move to get her a napkin.

  I rub her back soothingly until she finishes.

  “I don’t want you worrying yourself, mama.” I sigh as I hand her the trash can.

  I set the bin down and take my seat on the chair by her bed. This room has become just as familiar as our house. Hopefully she can be discharged soon, but it is just too quick after her latest surgery.

  In three months, the tumors went down enough for a surgery she had last week. It was too soon for a scan, but I just hoped things were looking good. We both had faith; but faith doesn’t cure things. It just makes it a little easier to deal with.

  “I’m not.” She reaches for her water.

  I really look at her and try to remember her before all this. She had thinner hair, but it hadn’t fallen out yet. She kept it in a bun most of the time anyway. What I miss most was the life I could always see when I looked in her eyes, she was so tired now. Her face was always youthful, but now I see the plasticity in her skin. Of course, she is still beautiful, but now...she is just so tired.

  “I have friends. Honestly. But no one knows about you, except my advisors and the dean.” I explain to her.

  It was the most I had told her about myself since all this. I tell her about my classes, and some of my more interesting course work. With the MCAT done and all my applications out of the way, I didn’t have much to dwell over.

  “The dean? Sounds important.”

  “Not really. I also got everything ready for graduation...well, Stan helped.” I add.

  “Oh good.” Her smile isn’t as enthusiastic as I expected.

  “What’s with you and Stan anyway?”

  She giggles, “nothing, honey. He’s been really helpful.”

  I nod, deciding not to pry because of the look on her face. I always suspected there was something between them, but nothing ever happened, and I never wanted to ask.

  “So, where does it look like you’re going to school?”

  I didn’t have any dream schools or even a ranking list. I always want to learn, and I applied to good schools. Whoever would accept me without an interview would be amazing.

  “I don’t know. Let’s just relax, mama. No need to talk about all that.”

  Her lips purse with a quizzical look, but she drops it anyway. We settle in for a few episodes of Days of Our Lives, our favorite show. I stay with her over dinner and finish my paper for a Gen Ed class, before I decide to get going. Well, she forces me to.

  “Get some rest. And don’t come back until the weekend, I’m serious. You don’t have to be holed up with me all day—unlike you, I have friends.” She teases me. Though it is true, everyone in the surgical wing loves her. She is the best scrub nurse.

  “Okay, mama. You win.” I chuckle.

  I put on my back pack and lean down to hug her. She kisses my cheek and rubs down my arm soothingly. The look in her eyes sends that familiar wave of warmth through my body, one I always got from her my whole life.

  “I love you babe,” she pats my shoulder.

  “I love you too.”

  “THOM? HEY MAN, ARE you even listening to me?”

  I stare back at Brock like he has a bird on his head. Was he even talking? I have no idea. Honestly, I barely know what day it is.

  “We have scut today.” He widens his eyes.

  Oh. It must be Thursday. Has it really been just one week? I remember every second of it, but I can’t for the life of me remember what has happened. Not since that horrific night.

  Not since I broke her.

  “Yeah.” I huff.

  I wipe my clammy palms on my scrub bottoms.

  “Okay, um I’m not good with talking about shit, but you look like hell. Are you okay? I thought you went to see your girl last weekend?”

  My girl.

  It takes every nerve in my body to keep from breaking down. On the plane ride back home, I was kept next to a flight attendant because I was in such hysterics. I could barely make it home. I barely made it into work on Monday. I could barely fucking breathe and that says a lot for an asthmatic with lung cancer.

  “We broke up.” There was no point lying.

  Brock and I got close after what went down with him and Maci.

  “Fuck.” He sinks back into his chair. We’re the only ones in the residents’ lounge, everyone else had rounds with whose ever service they’re on for the day.

  “Yeah. Fuck.” I get up and pour a coffee.

  Brock clears his throat. “You want to talk about what happened or is it too soon?”

  “Too soon.”

  “You gonna keep giving me two-word answers?”

  “Yeah.”

  We head down to the ER in silence. Once we get to the clinic, we split up and go about our tasks. I keep quiet; removing warts, advising kids who swallowed Legos to either wait for them to pass, or send them to be admitted. Four hours later, Brock is waiting for me by the elevator. I want to be left alone, but he knows I shouldn’t be.

  “You sure you can be at work? Not that I’m implying you’re distracted...but I was having an entire conversation with you and you didn’t hear shit.” Brock says in the elevator back up to the lounge.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  Everyone is in the lounge, and I avoid eye contact with all of them. Staci is harder, because her locker is right next to mine. I kick off my shoes and start changing into my regular clothes.

  “So, I talked to my ex. Your advice really helped.” Her voice is chipper. Just last week I was chipper, engaged even. Now I’m nothing.

  “That’s good.” I manage.

  I know I owe her more than that, but I can barely answer my own thoughts.

  “Uh, yeah. Kind of. I still don’t know what to do, it’s just so complicated.”

  “That’s how relationships are.” I say as kindly as I can. I mean it, but I know I am saying it more out of spite than anything else.

  “Um. I guess. Are you okay?”

  I finish getting dressed before I answer her. I sit down and stuff my hands in my hoodie before I answer her. “Perrie and I broke up.” It tastes like acid to say the words.

  “Oh,” she sits down next to me. “I’m so sorry. I thought...you guys were engaged, what happened?”

  I stare back at her; her brown eyes are filled with concern.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Oh, so you tell her but not me?” Brock interrupts her.

  “Brock, don’t be an ass.” Staci punches his arm and he feigns being hurt.

  “What?” He holds his hands up in defense and sits on the arm of the chair. “A long story? Who did the breaking up?”

  I swallow. I know there were so many better ways I could have done it. Anything but that horrible lie. I think it’s what made me sick the most, that I had to resort to that. She never would have let me go if I didn’t lie. I didn’t expect her to believe me so quickly though, and I think that’s what kept me up at night the most. Did she have that little faith in me? I knew it wasn’t possible; I learned a long time ago that having faith was shit. Perrier believed me because I tried like hell to convince her. Because I told her I expected her to destroy us.

  I had to keep believing that it was for the best. She was going to Paris to become a world class, double board certified forensic pathologist. And I was going to die, just l
ike my mother.

  We were no longer a match.

  “I did.” I answer simply. I clear my throat and wipe my eyes pretending I’m tired, but really, I am just trying to stop the sting of tears.

  “But...but why? You guys love each other. You talk about her all the time—you were getting married!”

  “Is that all you have to say?” Brock chides Staci. She rolls her eyes and turns to me, awaiting a response.

  “It’s a long story. A lot of it is personal. But she’s going to Paris to finish her program...it’s a bunch of different reasons.” I lie.

  “Well, if you want to talk we’re here. And Brock won’t be such an asshole next time.” Staci nudges him.

  He chuckles, but I notice him drift off in his head, probably thinking about Maci.

  “Thanks. I need to get going.”

  I had to get out of there. Lying wasn’t making it any better. I knew I didn’t break up with Perrie because of her leaving, I just used it as an excuse or a padding to my own reasons. If I could even call them reasons.

  I knew I wasn’t going to tell her about the cancer, as much as I wanted to marry her; I couldn’t give her that burden. So, I couldn’t lie to her for the rest of our lives, and it wouldn’t be very logistic. That night I thought long and hard about just leaving, wondering if that would be easier. It wasn’t until I was in the kitchen on the way out that I froze. Perrie was everything to me for so long; everything we shared didn’t deserve me vanishing out of her life with no explanation. So, I waited, and I didn’t have my story together by the time she woke up.

  I used Paris, I used what I thought was reasoning...she wouldn’t let me go that easy. I knew that much was true. So, I told the worst lie I ever could, something no one would ever want to hear from someone who promised to love them.

  I can still hear how she screamed. I close my eyes and I see the horrified look on her face and it makes me sick to my stomach. It plagues my thoughts, and my only escape was this program. My job, and my promise to my mother to become the best surgeon I could be.