“Am I that transparent?” I asked, feeling worn out and depressed after trying to get him to talk to me and failing. I didn’t understand why he was the way he was, and until I could talk to him and hear him say that he didn’t love me then I wasn’t giving up. I knew in my heart that we were meant for each other. I just needed him to stop shutting me out every time things got a little difficult.
“Yes, darling, you really are. Just like you were when you called a while ago and asked after him. I knew that something was going on between you two. And I know my daughter, when things are going well, you don’t call. But when you’re upset, you call all the time.”
“I’m a shitty daughter.”
“No darling,” she chuckled. “You’re just living your life, the way a twenty-one-year-old girl should, and I’m proud of you for it. We know you love us.”
“Thank you, mum,” I whispered.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on between you and the Lohan boy?”
I released a sigh. “I don’t know what to say about it. He’s just…he’s complicated.”
“The best ones always are, darling,” she said, somehow managing to say exactly what I needed to hear without me having to tell her everything that was going on. That’s what I always loved about my mum, she just knew me, and talking to her was always enough.
***
Over the following weeks, I tried to keep my life going as normal. Every day I tried to talk to Tyler, but he was avoiding me. I didn’t go crazy stalker chick or anything, I just called or left him a message, letting him know that I was still there, and I loved him. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t giving up on him or us. He was a part of me. He was the other half of my heart, and my life wasn’t quite the same without him.
With my ankle strapped, I continued running daily, and even though Tyler wasn’t around, I continued to eat well too. I don’t know why, but the junk I used to survive on just didn’t seem appetising anymore. I guess I took comfort in eating and exercising the way I did when I was with Tyler; even though none of it was the same without him.
Still needing a job, I’d been to a couple of interviews, and I even had a call back for the rehabilitation clinic at the local hospital after going through a group interview successfully. That was my most exciting prospect, as I felt that I could do the most good there as opposed to a regular physiotherapy clinic that dealt with everyday movement problems. I really wanted to make a difference to those who were recovering from serious injury or illness.
Tightening my shoes and making sure my ankle was supported, I set off toward the university to run through Victoria Park. With each day, my stride was improving, and I looked forward to the hour of quiet that running gave me. As I ran along the pathway, P!nk sang angry ballads in my ears while Sydney city jutted out of the landscape in the distance to my left.
It was almost picturesque that morning, and when I headed over the bridge that crossed a small river that ran through the parklands, the water was still enough to see the tiny circles dragonflies created as they fed off tiny bugs near the water’s surface.
Picking up my pace, I turned my attention to the path in front of me, my heart freezing in my chest when I saw Tyler, standing there in his running gear just looking at me.
I stopped where I was in the centre of the bridge and pulled the cordless headset from my ears, pressing it to stop the music. I didn’t speak. I felt that if I said a single word to break the quiet, he might turn and run like a startled deer.
Slowly, he approached me, his eyes burning the most beautiful and intense blue, making so that my breathing grew rapid with every step, although I still didn’t move.
I wondered if perhaps I was the deer, perhaps I was the one who was too startled by a set of headlights to move, because I couldn’t move. I was too afraid that this wasn’t happening.
He stopped in front of me, smelling of hard work and everything that was Tyler, and I looked up at him, letting out a quiet gasp as I opened my mouth to finally speak.
No words came out of my parted lips. Instead, they were muffled when he brought his lips to mine and kissed me in a way that had me feeling like liquid in his arms. Our mouths moved together as I inhaled his scent, and tasted his tongue, my arms sliding against his chest, and my hands pulling at his shirt. I would have gone anywhere he wanted in that moment, done anything he asked, except he didn’t ask a thing. He just rested his forehead on mine, his breathing ragged as his fingers gently stroked my cheeks, shaking slightly. Then he stepped away, and with one final look, he sprinted off the way I’d came.
“You need to come back to me. I’m not giving up on you,” I yelled after him, knowing that there was no point in running after him, he was too fast for me to catch.
AUTUMN, 2011
20
“I GOT the job,” I said to Janesa via a shaky Skype connection. I could hear her fine, but her image was coming through a little stop and start. She and Alex were over in Mexico, working as volunteers in a hospital where they were helping school aged children with disabilities. They seemed to be enjoying the work and the culture, their only gripe being that they had to stay with host families, so they weren’t living together, but I could see Alex lying on the bed behind her.
“That is so awesome,” Janesa said before turning back to answer something Alex asked. “She got the job at Prince Alfred.”
“Congratulations, Sarah,” he called out, moving into the frame so I could see him.
“Thank you,” I smiled. “I start in a week.”
“I’ll bet you’re excited,” Janesa said. “Your own money. You’ll be able to stand on your own two feet. Have you spoken to you-know-who at all?”
“No,” I told her truthfully, because despite the kiss in the park, I hadn’t spoken to him at all. “He’s still not answering any calls. How about you guys?”
“He’s gone dark,” Alex said. “This is the longest he’s ever done this. I don’t know what’s going on with him this time.”
“But, you did know the last times, right? You know what is going on with him?”
He shook his head and spoke but the Internet connection wavered and, all I got were bursts of noise.
“I didn’t catch that,” I said when it cleared up again.
“I said I don’t know everything, and I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone, Sarah. And he’s my best friend. I have to keep my word.”
“Not knowing is killing me, Alex. Can’t you tell me something?”
Again, he shook his head and Janesa must have pinched him or something, because he let out a sudden yelp then scowled at her. “Would you like me telling people your secrets?” he asked her, and for a moment they just looked at each other and said nothing. “That’s what I thought,” he said eventually before turning back to me.
“It’s fine, guys. I shouldn’t put you in that position. How about we just move on and you tell me all about Mexico and your jobs?”
“Well, it’s hot – like, Queensland hot,” Janesa started, and from then on, I sat and listened to tales about inspiring kids, and the group of travellers they’re working with, along with stories about the culture and their host families. It sounded like they were having a wonderful time, and I missed them both dearly, and when the connection got too laggy and we had to disconnect, I sat on my bed and looked around my tiny apartment, feeling as though it was so vast and empty without a certain golden boy’s smile to fill the air and everything in between.
***
“This area is for staff only, and you’ll need your ID card and code to get through here,” Brendon, the physiotherapist who had been working for Prince Alfred Hospital for the year before I joined the team, told me as he gave me the tour of my new workspace. My job was going to be more of an assistant’s role as I learned exactly what to do and got more hands on experience with patient’s care.
“Oh hey, Brendon,” called out Jess, the nurse I remember meeting when Tyler brought me to emergency with my broken ankle. “I’ve g
ot some paperwork I was going to bring up to you guys but if you give me a minute, I’ll go and grab it to save me the trip.”
“Sure, but we’ll follow you, I’m showing Sarah here where everything is.”
“Oh, you’re new here?” she directed at me with a friendly smile as she shook my hand in greeting.
“Yeah, first day,” I responded. “Although I think we’ve met before. Very briefly in emergency a few months back. I broke my ankle and Tyler Lohan brought me in.”
Her mouth formed an O shaped as her eyes studied me more closely. “Oh my, you’re Tyler’s girlfriend, aren’t you? I’ve seen your pictures on his phone. All the girls both here and at the clinic just love him. He’s such a smooth talker, but he lets them know he’s taken. So don’t ever worry about that man straying on you.”
“I trust him,” I smiled, sensing an opportunity to find out some information. “What photos is that man showing you by the way? Nothing embarrassing I hope.”
Turning, she led us down the corridor toward the lift bay then hit the down button, talking to me the whole way.
“No, they’re all beautiful shots. Some are from that holiday you two took in the New Year,” she said, getting onto the elevator and hitting the number for her floor. “And there’s just other general ones of the two of you larking about.” When the doors opened again, we followed her out and she waved her ID card to get us through the doors that led to the Oncology unit. My heart started tightening in my chest as I looked at the various signs that were attached to the walls, pointing you in different directions, each one sounding scarier than the last. She took us to the nurse’s stations on the chemotherapy ward, and I seriously had to fight to keep breathing.
“Do you work this ward every day?” I asked, hoping to God that her answer would be no.
But she smiled and said, “I sure do. Five, sometimes six days a week.” Then she handed Brendon the files we’d come here for and excused herself so she could get back to work.
As I followed Brendon around the hospital for the last of my tour, I don’t think I took a single bit of information in. Instead, I just felt like I’d been punched in the chest. Cancer?
21
KNOWING TYLER’S schedule like the back of my hand, I felt I knew what days he was receiving his treatment – once a fortnight on a Wednesday afternoon. It was with this in mind that I organised to have a late lunchbreak and head down to Oncology in the hopes of seeing him there to finally talk this out once and for all. Perhaps it was wrong of me to do it this way, but he’d left me with no choice. I loved him, he loved me, he was keeping secrets and I needed answers – being apart wasn’t working.
I found him sitting in the waiting area, his head bowed as he focused on the screen on his phone.
“So,” I said quietly as I took the seat next to him. “It’s cancer?”
His mouth fell open and his skin paled at the sight of me. “What…what are you doing here?” he stammered, looking like he’d just been caught cheating on a test…or on me…
“I work in the physio department now, and I ran into your friend from the emergency room. Turns out, she works here, and she recognised me from the pictures on your phone,” I said quietly, looking at the illuminated screen in his hands, and seeing that he did indeed have pictures of us together pulled up. I reached over and took it from him, swiping my thumb over the screen to cycle through different photos of us, smiling, showing how happy we were together. “You know, I could come and sit with you so you can look at the real thing?” I offered, handing him back his phone. “I could even re-enact the poses if you like, although, I might need an electrical socket to get my hair sticking out like that one,” I said, referring to the photo of me with my hair all frizzy while I was squealing and laughing as he tickled me while he took the shot.
“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, taking his phone from my fingers then catching my hand in his and entwining our fingers.
“I want to, Tyler. I won’t give up on us. I promised you I wouldn’t.”
Looking down at our joined hands, Tyler took a slow inhale of breath before nodding and bringing my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of my palm. “OK,” he whispered.
“And when we’re done, maybe we could go back to your place and talk about this all in private?” I whispered, and once again, he just nodded before shifting to put his arm around me and pull me up against him, pressing his lips to my forehead as he released a shaky breath.
I held him back, inhaling that familiar scent and feeling as though I’d never be the same without it. He was my home, and it saddened me that he’d been going through his treatments alone. He just needed to let me in because honestly, I go to hell for him if I had to.
***
His treatment took almost two hours, during which, I got to meet the nurses on staff who had fallen under the Tyler Lohan spell. They seemed to adore him, just like everyone always adored Tyler, he just had that… je ne c'est quoi, and even in a chemotherapy chair he still shined so brightly. I always felt that I paled in comparison, and I never understood why it was me he chose – me he was connected to. I didn’t think I was anything special because just like everyone else, I enjoyed basking his light. Perhaps the difference with me was that I wanted his darkness too...
“How are you feeling?” I asked, when the IV was removed and he was allowed to go home. He didn’t look well at all.
“I’m just tired. I need to go home and rest.”
“Can you drive?" I asked, sliding my hand around his waist to help support him.
“I’m all right, sweetheart. I can walk, you don't have to try and carry me,” he laughed, draping his arm across my shoulder.
“Yes, but can you drive?" I asked again as we came to a stop in front of the lifts.
He turned to face me and gently ran his fingers over my cheek as if he was checking I was still there. “I can drive,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing the loose curls that had fallen free of my ponytail. I closed my eyes, loving his touch. “Are you sure you want to do this?"
Nodding, my eyes opened to meet his. “One hundred percent.”
“OK. Then I’ll meet you back at my place and…we can talk.”
“OK. Just… can you do me a favour?"
"What is it?"
"Tell me everything this time, and… and don't run. Do you think you can do that for me?”
Nodding, he took a step away from me when the lift arrived. “I'll see you soon,” he said, as he stepped onto the lift and hit the button, the doors sliding closed and separating me from him. In a way, that hurt, I didn't want to let him out of my sight, but he needed to sit down, and I needed to sign out of work and go and collect my own car.
My boss wasn’t too happy that I was skipping out early, but I explained it was important and as long as I promised not to do it on a regular basis, she let me go. Then I began what felt like a very long drive to Tyler’s house, even though it was only minutes away.
With my heart beating in my chest, I walked into the foyer of his apartment building. The concierge smiled at me, knowing me from before, and that Tyler was expecting me and I could go on through.
“Tyler?” I called out, when I pushed through the unlocked door and stepped into the sunlit living area.
“Bedroom,” he responded, the sound of his voice bringing me great relief because even though the concierge said he was expecting me, I still had that slight fear that he wouldn't be there at all.
“Hey,” I said from the doorway, finding him sitting on his bed in just a pair of track pants as he pulled on a white cotton T-shirt. His blond hair was damp from a shower, and he’d removed the cotton ball that was taped to his arm at that IV injection point. My fingers itched to reach out and touch his body and make crazy passionate love like we always did after a fight. But this time, I stayed back, waiting for him, needing this time to be the time he told me everything.
And he did tell me everything. Finally, after almost six months o
n and off with him, I understood…
22
“HEY, SWEETHEART,” he said, holding his hand out to me. “Come and sit next to me.”
I did as he asked, taking his hand and settling on the bed next to him, watching him as he clasped my hand in his and played with my fingers, focusing on his actions as his breathing increased.
Placing my other hand on his back in support, I moved it upward until it my fingers curled in the base of his hair. “Talk to me,” I whispered, and his breath shuddered, making my whole body fill with dread. “Why were you having chemotherapy? What kind of cancer is it?”
“I’m not...” He paused to take a breath. “It’s not cancer. It’s…”
“It’s what? You can tell me, Tyler. I want to be here for you – no matter what.”
He nodded, his hands squeezing gently around my fingers as he took yet another, more steady breath. “I have MS,” he revealed finally.
“MS? As in Multiple Sclerosis?”
Again, he nodded and my mind whirled, not knowing exactly what the condition was beyond a rudimentary understanding. I could barely believe Tyler could possibly be affected. In my mind, people with MS were stuck in wheelchairs and unable to move. And that wasn’t Tyler. Tyler was fit, he was healthy – he was the golden boy. This had to be wrong.
“God. I’ve never said that out loud to anyone before,” he whispered, lifting a hand to wipe at his eyes as his breath shuddered.
For a moment, I sat there frozen, not knowing what to say or what to do. All at once, a million questions flooded my mind, but not one of them found its way out of my mouth.
He looked up at me, his eyes shining, his nose reddened from his emotion. “Say something.”
“Tyler,” I whispered, his name, a forced breath from my lungs. “How long?”
“Almost eight years now.”
“Eight years? I don’t understand. Isn’t MS degenerative? Shouldn’t you be in a wheelchair?” The moment I said it, I shook my head and apologised. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be insulting. I just…I don’t understand.”
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