Transpire
Page 24
I try to comprehend what he’s saying but it’s like shoving together two pieces of a puzzle and trying to convince yourself it doesn’t fit. I get it, but I don’t want to.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? Don’t you think I had a right to know? Not just then, but now?”
“You did. You had every right to know. But that doesn’t mean it was easy for me to tell you.” He rakes a hand through his hair and leans forward, dropping his head into his hand. “I wanted to tell you so many times Elle, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell you something like that, especially while you were still suffering over what happened with Parker. I hated myself for not telling you. But I would have hated myself even more telling you that I’m not guaranteed a future. That we weren’t guaranteed a future.”
He peels a piece of hair off my wet cheek and tucks in behind my ear. He curls his hand around my neck, bringing me closer.
“I’m sorry.” He breathes.“I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I let you walk away.” His eyes close tightly, our foreheads pressed together. “I’m sorry that after all this time I’m still hurting you. I wish I could make it stop.”
“I don’t care about the past anymore, Canyon. That’s all the last few years of my life have been. Holding on to the past. The pain. The guilt. It might not be any easier, but I want to focus on everything that’s happening now.” I suck in a breath. Exhale. “I want to fix things between us but I’m scared. I’m scared of losing you again.”
He rakes his fingers through my hair, pulling my head back to look at me. “Don’t be. Nothing is set in stone. There’s still a chance I’ll find a donor. You have to stay positive. It doesn’t make the situation any better by worrying about it.”
“You can’t expect me not to worry after you tell me you’re dying.” I say, tracing a finger over the curve of his mouth. His eyes shut and I feel his hands grab hold of my waist, pulling me so that I’m flush against his chest. I trail my finger along his jawline, his cheek, back to his mouth.
“Can you promise me something?” His eyes open, finding mine.
I nod, even though I’m not sure I can.
“I need you to promise that whatever happens, you won’t let it control your life. You’re strong, Elle. Even when you think you’re not, you are. You just have to learn to see the good when everything around you seems like it’s falling apart. All you have to do is pick up those pieces and make something beautiful out of it.”
“There’s nothing beautiful about losing you.”
He slides his hands up my legs and settles them on my thighs, bending his head so that he can see my downcast face.
“Look at me.”
I do.
“You are never going to lose me. Even if my heart stops beating, you’ll still be there. You’ve been there since the second I laid eyes on you and there is nothing in this life, or the next that can change that. I don’t know about you, but that’s pretty fucking beautiful.”
I can’t help but laugh because in a morbid kind of way, it is. Knowing I’m always going to possess his heart is probably the most beautiful thing I can imagine.
He grabs my waist and brings his mouth closer. My heart is struggling to get to my stomach and my stomach feels like it’s about to drop to my toes. “Can I do something?” He asks, lips brushing mine.
“That depends on what you’re going to do.”
His fingers slip under the hem of my shirt, burning against my cool skin. I don’t even try to smother my gasp.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, words hot and breathless against my mouth. And he does. He kisses me until the ache in my heart is just a dull throb. And then he kisses my soul, reminding it who it belongs to. He kisses me like he’s always kissed me but this time it feels different. Like it’s blotting out all the pain and giving me permission to heal. So I do, finally letting the wounds I’ve left open all this time start to close.
Chapter Nineteen
I wake up in Canyon’s bed. But this time I am not alone. Canyon is here with me, my head cradled in the crook of his arm, our legs tangled together. We must have fallen asleep last night but I don’t remember. After our conversation in the living room, we moved to his bedroom where we talked some more. We talked about his condition. The different ways it affects him and how it affects the people in his life. We talked about our fears and regrets and we also discussed what’s happening between us. We admitted our feelings, even though that much could’ve gone unsaid. And then we discussed what we’re going to do about it. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared to be with him. He has a condition that has him fighting for his life and in a sense, I’m fighting for mine, too. But while I’m scared to be with Canyon when he could be stolen away so easily, I’m more afraid of being without him. And that gave me the courage to tell him what I want. That I want to be with him. That I always will. No matter what.
“I’m glad I’m not Dexter Morgan,” I say.
Canyon and I are cuddled up in his bed, eating bacon and cinnamon pancakes while we watch our favorite TV show. I’ve been trying to think of ways this moment could be any more perfect but lazing in bed curled up next to Canyon with more food than I know what to do with is kind of hard to top.
“Uh, yea me too. Considering he’s a serial killer.” He gives me a mock look of concern and reaches for another slice of bacon.
“I mean because of his personality. The way he’s so cut off from his emotions. A few weeks ago I would’ve wanted be liked that but now I’m glad I’m not.”
“And why is that?”
I swallow a mouthful of pancake and wash it down with my orange juice before answering. “Because then I wouldn’t have realized how much I’m in love with you.”
He drops a piece of bacon in his mouth and smiles playfully. “That was pretty corny.” He says, teasingly.
I look down at my hands. “Maybe, but it’s true.”
The bed shifts and he grabs my chin between his fingers, taking me off guard when kisses me softly. He tastes good, sweet from the syrup and salty from the bacon. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, stealing the air from my lungs before pulling away, leaving me breathless.
“I’m glad you’re not Dex Morgan either,” he says, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Because I love that you’re in love with me and I definitely love when you tell me.”
I shake my head but can’t hold back my smile. “Now who’s being corny?”
Using his body, he pushes me down on the mattress and buries his face in my neck. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.” He kisses the hollow of my neck, leisurely dragging his hand up my bare thigh. “I bet it even turns you on.” His fingers graze the edge of my panties right as he bites my neck. The sound of his cell phone going off in some unknown part of the house stops him cold. He sighs, and I pout when he pulls his hands away.
“Damn. And we were both so corny.”
I snort a laugh at his terrible pun and he smiles, sauntering out of the room in search of his phone. While he’s gone, I finish my breakfast and half watch the next episode of Dexter. I’m about to get up to use the bathroom when there’s a crash in the kitchen. It’s deafeningly loud, scaring me so bad, it feels like my heart lurches into my head. I scramble out of bed and call Canyon’s name as I rush down the hall to the kitchen. I know something isn’t right the second I see broken glass. I rush around the bar but stop cold when I see him lying on the floor.
Glass everywhere.
His body limp and pale and lying in a weird position. Panic wraps around my throat like callused hands until I feel like I’m suffocating.
I can’t breathe.
Move.
Think.
Oh, my God.
I can’t stop looking at Canyon even though I know I need to do something.
I need to focus.
Phone.
I need to find his phone.
I spot it lying a few feet away, halfway under the fridge, covered in little shards of glass. I pick it up with shaking finger
s and dial 911. I tell the dispatcher my emergency but I barely hear the words spilling out of my mouth or when she tells me in a soothing voice to calm down. How can she expect me to be calm? I hate that she’s calm. I hang up on her. Or maybe she hangs up on me. The line goes dead so I toss the phone down and crouch beside Canyon. I think she told me to check his pulse so grab his wrist and find it still throbbing beneath my fingers. He’s still breathing, which is good. But he’s so pale. It’s unnatural. Like death.
Please, God, don’t let him die.
The next ten minutes are the longest ten minutes of my life. I sit against the wall, feeling helpless, uttering whispered prayers and begging from him to be okay. He has to be okay. After everything we’ve been through…I can’t lose him. I bury my face in my hands, fear churning in my gut. Everything becomes a blur. People talking. Shouting. Someone asks me questions but all I see is Canyon’s body being lifted onto a stretcher and carried through the front door. They tell me I can’t ride with him. I tell them to screw off. The door shuts and I sink to the floor.
Please don’t let me lose him.
There are two times in my life I’ve been completely terrified. The first time was seeing Parker after the accident. Seeing the tubes in his mouth. The bruises. The blood. I was terrified for a lot of reasons but mostly with myself because I was the one who put them there. Terrified because at the time, I didn’t know what was wrong or if he’d be okay. The second time was the night I almost committed suicide. I had still been fighting a battle of being terrified and disappointed with myself and it was worse because I knew what happened to Parker. That he would never walk again and it was my fault. Fear was relentless to me and it wove itself into my skin like a sharp needle. I hated myself but I hated the fear even more. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to find a bottom to the hollow pit in my heart and stop falling through darkness.
And then Canyon came along. He took the fear away. Made me realize I could conquer it and crawl out of the darkness. He was my light. My salvation. He saved me. Now I’m sitting in a hospital room and all I want is to do what he did for me. But I can’t. I can’t do anything but sit here and wish it could be my turn to save him. I’m experiencing it again. Like a pair of invisible hands tightening around my throat. Fear. So powerful I’m worried it’s going to consume me and take me back to that same dark place I was before I met him. I don’t want to go back. But if it meant Canyon would be okay, I would do it in a heartbeat. I’d do anything for him. Just like I’d do for Parker. So why is it never me? I deserve this hospital bed a thousand times over but somehow I’m always the person sitting on the side, wondering why I’m not in their place. Wishing so damn bad that I could take it.
It’s been twelve hours since Canyon was admitted to the hospital. Since I watched his unconscious body being pushed through those swinging doors with no clue what was going on. I had followed the ambulance to the hospital but the nurses told me I couldn’t go back. So I waited. And waited. I waited until I felt like I was going to explode. Mom and Parker eventually showed up. They waited with me but after we still hadn’t heard anything, they went home for the evening, telling me they’d be back.
Thirty minutes ago a nurse finally appeared like an angel from the gates of heaven and told me I could see him. She told me he was sleeping but I didn’t care. I just needed to see him before I went out of my mind. Right now I’m holding his hands, trying to keep them warm because they’re freezing and I need to feel like I’m doing something. But my hands are too small and fragile to do any good and I hate myself even more for being so helpless. Eventually I doze off, still holding his hands. I wake up to the sound of a nurse moving around the room, the same lady who brought me back here earlier.
“You doing all right, sweetie?” Her red lips smile sadly at me.
“I’m okay.” I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes. A glance at the clock tells me I’ve been asleep a good two hours.
“He hasn’t woken up, has he?”
She shakes her head while injecting something into his IV. “I haven’t been in since my last round, hon.” She tosses the needle in the haz box then turns back to me. “You’ve been in here a long time. Do you want to grab a cup of coffee or something?”
I shake my head. There’s no way I can leave. What if he wakes up while I’m gone? “That’s okay. I’ll wait until he wakes up.”
She gives me another sad smile before heading to the door. “Alright, hon, just take it easy.” She closes the door and leaves me in the quiet room, the only sound coming from the hum of a machine he’s hooked up to. Not two minutes later, the nurse comes back, holding a cup of steaming hot coffee.
“No offense, but it looks like you could use this.” She hands me the Styrofoam cup and I take it gratefully.
“Thank you.” I sniff, blinking the tears from my eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.”
The nurse, Cindy, from what it says on her nametag, waves her hand like it’s no big deal. “Don’t worry about it. I know firsthand how grueling the endless hospital hours can be.”
I take a drink and set the cup on the table next to me. “Do you have a family member here?” I ask genuinely curious.
“Not anymore.” She says but I see it. The same sadness in her eyes I used to see every time I looked at myself. “My husband, he passed away a few months ago.”
“I’m sorry.” I reply quietly, keeping my eyes on Canyon’s face. I can’t imagine losing him like that. It was hard enough losing him for the last two years. The thought of losing him forever is paralyzing.
I look back at Cindy. She’s staring at one of Canyon’s monitors.
“How did he die?” I realize I’m probably overstepping my boundary but the question slips out. She doesn’t seem upset though. Just marks something off on her clipboard and folds her arms over her chest.
“He was a firefighter.” She smiles softly. “He was severely burned in a house fire after saving an elderly couple. He went back in to save their dog but part of the roof collapsed. They got him out but it was almost too late. He was brought to the hospital but barely held on for a day.” She wipes at her eyes and releases a breath. “I was just like you. Didn’t leave that side of the bed for anything. Even after he flatlined.” She smooths a piece of hair back into her ponytail and looks at me. “You know what hurt the most, though? More than him dying?”
I shake my head because I can’t think of anything that could hurt more.
“Not getting to tell him I’m sorry.” She answers. “We had been a fight that week. I refused to talk to him because he’d been lying about where he was going before work. Something that at the time seemed like a huge deal but in retrospect, it could have been solved so easily. After he passed, I found out he and his dad were building us a new house. He had been trying to keep it a secret and I felt so terrible because I assumed the worst of him. I didn’t take the time to fix our problem and the next thing I knew, it was too late. If I could do it all again, I’d make sure I told him I’m sorry and that I loved him. Now I get to live with that the rest of my life, knowing I didn’t get to tell him that.”
Tears fill her eyes and I’m fighting back my own. Her story guts me. I think of Canyon and how he lied and how that one lie unraveled us completely. Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe I just allowed myself to unravel from him when we could have faced the issue head on. Maybe we’re both to blame. It terrifies me how similar our stories are. How I’m sitting on the side of this hospital bed, unsure if Canyon will wake up or if I’ll get to tell him goodbye. If I’ll get to tell him that I love him.
“Look at me, making things worse,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m not trying to scare you.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t. I’m glad you shared that with me.” I look at Canyon, stroking my thumb over his hand. “Canyon shared something with me the night before this all happened. He told me when life is bad, when it shatters around you in little pieces, that you can always make something beautiful out of them.”
“I told him there was nothing beautiful about losing him and of course, being Canyon, he found something. He has a knack for that. Seeing beauty in everything. That’s probably the photographer in him.” I’m rambling so I hurry and get back to my point. “He told me that no matter what happened, I’d always be in his heart. And nothing would ever change that. Not even something as finite as death.” I look up at her and see the tears streaming down her face. “I think that applies to anyone who ever loved someone. I think it applies to you and your husband. I think you’re still in his heart. I think he knows all the things you never had the chance to say. He forgives you. And he loves you. I think that’s what Canyon was trying to get me to see. That love is infinite and that somehow makes the pain a little less ugly.”
Cindy grabs a tissue from the table and wipes her eyes. Then she turns to me, a trace of a smile visible on her lips. “That’s a wise man you have there.” She says and I feel a swell of pride in my heart.
I nod. “He is. He’s taught me so much, even when I wasn’t paying attention.”
She tosses the crumpled up tissue in the trash and runs her fingers under her eyes. “You’re a lucky girl. Don’t let that one go.”
“I don’t plan on it.”
She holds her clipboard to her chest and retreats to the door. “Let me know if you need anything, hon. And tell Canyon I said thank you when he wakes up.”
For the first time since I stepped into the hospital, I smile. She returns it and leaves the room right as Canyon squeezes my hand.
My heart throbbing, I turn. His eyes are still closed tight. I wonder if I imagined it. He squeezes again and blinks, connecting his dark brown eyes to mine but I can barely see them through the haze of tears clouding my vision.