After finding the bag that Kaeleb so lovingly dropped by the bathroom door, I grab my clothes, thankful for the familiar jeans and concert tee that he packed, but also note that he must have left my trusty Docs at home with my contact case. I slip my feet into my Chucks and haphazardly brush my hair before wrapping an elastic band around it at the crown and half-pulling it through so it looks like a big ball against my head. A sheer white color tops my lids, which are thankfully less swollen after the shower, since that’s the only other color left in my makeup bag. After brushing the mascara through my lashes, I slide a sheer gloss over my lips and finally exit the bathroom.
Hesitantly, I enter the kitchen to find Kaeleb bent at the waist, rummaging through the refrigerator.
Sigh.
He’s always looked really good in those jeans, the ones that hang low from the waist and fit rather nicely across his ass. The navy button-up he’s wearing lies perfectly along the tops of the familiar designs on his back pockets, and I’m momentarily memorized as I watch the movements of his back and the way his forearms bulge underneath the rolls of his sleeves as he grabs items off the top shelf.
God, I miss him.
After stockpiling practically the whole fridge in his arms, he pivots around, only to come to a standstill when he sees me standing behind the counter. I’m sure my staring is blatantly obvious, but I don’t feel bad because he’s now doing the same to me. His eyes run from my hair, to my eyes, to my chest, and then back to my eyes before he clears his throat and resumes his steps to the other side of the counter.
“You look…better. Leaving the piercings in I see.”
I reach up and skim my eyebrow with my fingertips before flicking my septum piercing just for spite.
I definitely don’t miss this attitude of his.
“Maybe some other time. Think you can just be happy about the contacts for today?”
His head dips his acceptance and he tears his gaze from me, setting the food down and reaching inside the cabinet to grab two paper plates.
Damn, he really does know his way around this place.
“Sandwich?” he asks, gesturing to the bread in front of him before opening the bag and throwing two slices on both plates.
“Um, looks like it doesn’t matter what I say, does it?” I respond, watching as he places a couple of slices of ham on the bread before adding lettuce, pickles, tomatoes, and mustard.
Once he’s done, he raises his eyes to meet mine. Without breaking eye contact, he flicks his wrist, releasing the plate from his fingers and sending it spinning before it comes to a stop right in front of me. “Nope, it really doesn’t.”
I tighten my eyes at him and watch as he adds potato chips to his sandwich, mashing down the top slice of bread before taking a bite.
“Eat,” he remarks through a full mouth while jerking his head in my direction.
“Look,” I huff, still not taking a bite from the blasted sandwich. “I get that you’re pissed at me, okay, but do you think it’s possible for you to refrain from being a complete jerkoff today?”
He shakes his head. “No, probably not.”
After finishing his sandwich in three bites flat, he leans forward, placing his palms on the counter, and staring at my untouched food. “You need to eat, Bree. But take it slow.” Raising his head, his eyes latch onto mine, ill humor working its way into his expression. “Your body might go into shock from actually consuming food as opposed to the liquid diet you’ve been consuming non-stop.”
My eyes tighten into slits as he laughs under his breath, but I grab the sandwich anyway and bring it to my mouth. Just before I take a bite, I lower it, using the same line he used on me a little over an hour ago. “Some things never change, I see. Once an a*shole, always an a*shole.”
Taking the sandwich in one hand, I bring it back toward my ear and chuck it as hard as I can, watching with a smirk on my face as it lands smack against his forehead and then falls to the counter, right between his hands.
He looks to the mess below him, picking pieces of lettuce out of his hair, before lifting his face and eyeing my pleased grin. His lips barely quirk at the corners before he straightens his face. “You’re lucky you just took a shower.”
“Am I?” I try to maintain a straight face, but the pickle still stuck in his hair makes it really difficult. The mood lightens as my lips twitch, and for the first time today, his eyes soften. Slowly, he reaches over the counter and places his hand underneath my chin, tilting my head backwards with his knuckle. His gaze never breaks as he narrows his eyes, staring deeply into mine as he angles his head to the left.
“Interesting,” he murmurs, swiping his thumb just under my bottom lip before releasing his hold and redirecting his attention to the mess. Just as he opens the door to the pantry and dumps the remains of my sandwich into the trashcan, my curiosity gets the best of me.
“How do you know your way around so well? How often have you been over here?”
His hand finds his hip and his head falls before he inhales deeply. Still looking at the floor, he speaks, barely above a whisper, “Someone had to help her, Bree.” His head lifts, his eyes filled with uneasiness. “I’m not gonna bullshit you. It’s pretty bad. I’ve been visiting a lot more over the last month.”
A bulge lodges in my throat and I’m forced to clear it before I speak. “How long have you been talking to her?”
He answers without hesitation. “Since you decided to disappear on us. She would call me, concerned, and I would call her to see if she had heard from you. We would speak once or twice a week, but then things started happening. It started with a cough here and there, but then over the months it started getting uncontrollable. I could hear her over the phone, coughing and gagging. A lot of times she’d have to let me go and call me back.”
He draws a deep breath. “I couldn’t just let her suffer like that, you know? It wasn’t right. So, a couple of months ago I started coming by on the weekends to help her as much as I could.”
I nod my head, trying to fight back the guilt and grief threatening my eyes. Swallowing deeply, I amend my previous statement. “Maybe you’re not such an a*shole then.” Rising from my seat, I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Thank you.” I turn away, but stop and pivot back in his direction, offering him an apologetic half-smile. “Sorry about the sandwich.”
The corner of his mouth lifts into his characteristic lopsided smile as he chuckles under his breath. “Don’t be. That sandwich was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, Bree. It’s nice to see you smile again. Even if it’s at my expense.”
My dimple sinks into my pierced cheek as we stare at each other from across the room. His teeth find his bottom lip as he smiles until he releases it to suck in a loud breath, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Well, assuming I’m safe from another sandwich-launch to the face, with me not being an a*shole and all, can I make you another one before we hit the road?”
I nod my head, but worry starts to hijack my heart with the mention of my visit with Linda. Before I know it, I’m stuffed full of sandwich, and pulling into the parking lot of the hospital as I try to calm my breathing. Once we’ve stopped, I make no move to get out of the car.
“Ready?” Kaeleb prompts from next to me as he pulls the keys from the ignition.
My eyes prick with tears, and I can barely swallow, the narrowing of my throat increasing with my apprehension.
What if she hates me?
What if she can’t forgive me?
What if she doesn’t even want to see me?
Thoughts fly around in my head so quickly I can barely process them. Gripping the door handle as tightly as I physically can, I turn to Kaeleb. “I’m scared.”
The simple disclosure propels stinging tears down my cheeks. Kaeleb, in turn, just offers a sad smile, leaning his head against his headrest. “You can do this. I know you can.”
My mouth scrunches to the side as I try to convince myself to get out of the car while Kaeleb just sits patiently and waits. After a while, I eventually draw in and release a deep, long breath before finally pulling the door handle and stepping outside. Kaeleb jumps out to meet me in front of the car, and as we make our way into the hospital entrance, I step closer to him, so close the arms of our coats rub against each other. I focus on the sound, trying to block the building anxiety in my stomach and tightening in my chest, until we stop in front of the elevator. I watch as Kaeleb reaches forward and presses the “Up” button with his finger, my foot tapping with nervous energy, my hands trembling furiously.
The door dings and an involuntary whimper escapes my throat as fear forces its way out of my system. My feet remain planted in place, dread rooting me to the ground until familiar warmth envelops my hand. I glance down as Kaeleb interlaces our fingers, then look up to meet his eyes—kind, full of patience and understanding, and in them I find the strength I need. After giving him thanks with a small smile, we face forward and step into the elevator. Together.
Once inside, we turn as the door closes, still joined as he clutches my hand tightly, feeding me his steely determination with his hold. His resilience continues to flow through me as we ride up four floors…as the doors slide open…as we walk down the hall…as we knock on Room 431 in the Oncology Wing…and by the time we step inside, his grip has become so strong I can no longer feel my fingers.
I give him a little squeeze as we round the corner to let him know this, but as soon as my eyes land on Linda, my light squeeze turns into a vise grip. My feet stop moving forward and my whole body goes rigid at the sight in front of me.
The person lying in the bed is completely unrecognizable.
Linda’s once full, long blonde hair no longer remains. Her head is completely bald. The shadows lining the tops of her hollowed out cheeks are so dark they’re almost black. Her skin is no longer fresh and glowing, but practically translucent, blue veins appearing amidst the excessive purple bruising along her forearms. Every bone in her body protrudes from beneath her skin, and as I watch her facial movements in her sleep, with each wince she unknowingly makes, I recognize that the pain ripping through her body must be unbearable. Even in her frailty, her strength is undeniable.
My free hand captures the gasp before it works its way out of my mouth and I force it back until it lodges with the boulder already present in my throat, making it impossible to breathe. My entire body quakes uncontrollably as I observe her from afar, every emotion possible racing through me as my heart slams repeatedly against my chest. I start to shake my head and take a step backward, but as I do, Kaeleb’s hand cups my cheek and forces my eyes away from her. I lock eyes with him, fear directing my movements as I continue to shake my head back and forth.
His thumb brushes away the tears streaming down my face, but he says nothing as his beautiful hazel eyes continue to hold mine, his expression stern but not uncaring. Clenching his jaw tightly, he releases his hold on my hand and curls it gently around the back of my neck before pulling me into an embrace. I nestle my cheek into his chest and fist the back of his coat, allowing his arms to hold me upright as I cry. Tears work their way from my eyes and trail slowly down my cheeks until they eventually fall to the floor. I focus on them, trying to nurture that flickering shard in my chest so that it may provide me the strength to face my fear.
To face Linda.
To face death as it stares me in the face.
Again.
I focus on my breathing, and it’s long after my cries taper off that I finally manage to pull away from Kaeleb. His face is still drawn tightly, but he places his hands on either side of my neck and tenderly wipes the remaining traces of moisture from underneath my eyes. He glances down at his mascara-coated thumbs, and then back to me before stating, “Now these kind of black smears are acceptable,” and throwing me a light-hearted wink.
I roll my eyes, but can’t deny that his humor is exactly what I need in this moment.
Of course, I don’t tell him that. I just give him a light shove in the shoulder, causing him to chuckle under his breath.
Drawing in a calming breath, I give him a nervous smile, shrug off my coat, and finally turn to Linda.
Step by step, I make my way to the side of her bed.
When I arrive, I try to maintain my composure while my fingertips tenderly brush along the bruises that darken the skin of her forearm. My eyes travel over her face, her chest, her hands, her head…every part of her that I need to familiarize myself with before waking her.
And when I feel I’ve absorbed the pain, the guilt, the sorrow, the anger—all those overwhelming emotions I haven’t allowed myself to feel for so long—I let them all combine, further cultivating the light within me as it pumps courage into my veins, light that I never thought myself capable of having.
Strength drives my voice as I lean over and whisper in her ear, “Linda. It’s me. I’m here.”
Linda’s eyes drift open, the green color not as vivid as I remember. She twists her neck slowly, painfully, to meet my gaze and my chin trembles as I reach forward. Running my fingers along the depressed area of her cheek, I give her as much of a comforting smile as I can muster.
She raises her hand to cover mine and I eye the I.V. to make sure it stays put as she clenches my fingers tightly. Her chest rasps as she works up the strength to whisper, “I knew you would come.” She breaks her stare as she looks over my shoulder, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes. “Thank you.”
Glancing behind me, I see Kaeleb offer her a slight smile before dipping his head. “You’re welcome.” He turns away, removing his coat and placing it with mine in a chair before heading toward the door. “I’m going to give you ladies time to catch up. I’ll be back soon.”
I watch as he leaves, before twisting back in Linda’s direction and taking a seat next to her. She releases my hand, setting hers softly on my leg before trying to prop herself up higher against the pillow. She begins to cough, each one deeper than the last, until she frantically signals for something on the other side of the bed. I jump up and run to where she’s pointing and retrieve the trashcan with the biohazard lining, holding it up to her as she continues hacking. Taking it from me, she presses her mouth against the side, finally ridding her lungs of the blood as it dribbles down the liner. My feet haul me to the bathroom and I fist some paper towels from the dispenser, marching even more quickly as I return to her side to wipe her mouth. Her eyes are apologetic as she leans back, still holding the trashcan, clearly exhausted from the episode.
“I’m sorry, Aubrey,” she says, her raspy voice filling the air. “I hate that you have to see this.”
My head shakes furiously. “No, I should have been here all along.” Taking my place beside her, I reach forward to stroke her face again. “I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry, not you.”
Her lips lift into a weak smile. “I’ve missed you so much.”
I return the gesture, taking her cold hand into mine. “Me too.”
We remain quiet for some time, both taking note of the many differences in our appearances since the last time we saw each other.
Linda squeezes my hand lightly. “Well, at least you don’t have those damn contacts in.” She laughs lightly, setting off another coughing episode. Once she’s done, she leans back and I take the trash can from her hand, setting it on the floor as I scoot closer to her. “Linda, do I need to get the swear jar? Your language is borderline offensive.”
She grins, but curbs her laughter. “Do you still have that thing?”
“I do.” And I know right where it is. It’s packed in a box underneath my bed, the first thing to go once I’d decided to remove all traces of the people I loved from my sight. Even in my sorry state, the symbolism of that jar’s eradication was not lost on me. I smile inwardly as I remember Kaeleb and Quinn that first night in the dorm room.
Goofballs.
My heart staggers with the memory of Quinn’s contagious giggle.
I press thoughts of her aside, hoping that my abandonment hasn’t completely severed our friendship.
As I turn my focus back to Linda, her face falls serious as she tightens her hold on my hand. “Aubrey, I want you to know that I never wanted you to have to go through this. To have to endure this situation ever again. You’ve experienced too much. Seen too much. The idea of you having to watch this, I just…” She releases a weary sigh, her wheezing becoming more prominent as she speaks.
“Linda—”
“No,” she states firmly. “I need to say this.”
I nod my head, silencing my objection in order for her speak.
“I tried to fight this, I did. I want you to know that there’s nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do, no war I wouldn’t wage, no battle I wouldn’t withstand to prevent you from having to experience yet another loss in your life. But my body,” she breaks to wipe the moisture from her face, “my body is losing against every single form of combat. Surgery didn’t work. The cancer was too aggressive and had already spread, and chemo and radiation seem to halt its progress, only for it to come back with a vengeance.”
Linda’s eyes continue to seep tears, but determination fills them as she states, “I’m looking into other options, though. I want you to know that. I will keep fighting for you.”
I swallow my tears deep into my throat, allowing her resolve to wash over me, and as her words fill my heart, I finally see it. Right in front of my face as it glares at me, unyielding. The stark contrast between Linda’s determined battle and my parents’ tragic surrender when faced with hardship, when faced with death. The incredible distinction of the value each placed upon their lives and mine.
As I stare at Linda—purpose casing her entire expression—it becomes clearly obvious whose footsteps I’ve been following in…and whose I should be.
I’m forced to look away, swiping my hand across my cheek as I process her words. As I replay them over in my head, the ember in my chest converts into a glowing flame, and hope begins to churn throughout my mind and soul, the wheels spinning in my mind, fanning it as it grows.
Sometimes in life there are these random moments when everything just clicks. When all the fragments of your fractured past fall together, merging in your mind to form a lucid image of your future. Each mistake made becomes a vital piece as it serves whatever purpose necessary to complete the picture as a whole and suddenly everything becomes so clear.
Sitting in the hospital with Linda, listening to her words, her determination to give me the very gift of her life no matter how painful and exhausting that struggle may be…well, this is my moment. Because as I sit next to this brave, ferocious warrior it suddenly becomes clear to me how valuable life really is.
Every being in this world makes an impact on at least one person they encounter during their lifetime. You can change the course of someone’s life by just a kind word, a hateful one, or even by simply choosing not to say anything at all. Every choice you make has the potential to create a ripple effect, trickling into and affecting the lives of others.
Life, your existence in this world, is a very powerful thing. Truly a gift that you can give to others, but by hiding behind my fears, by isolating everyone around me, I know that my gift has been utterly wasted. There is no mark I’ve made in this world. No betterment has been achieved. I’ve allowed myself to experience nothing that I could utilize in teaching others, helping others, or bettering their lives.
And as I come to this realization, the flame within me begins to burn so intensely, it illuminates the darkness, lighting the path I must take to become the person I know I want to be. That I can become. But I also know that it won’t be an easy journey.
There will be heartache.
There will be anger.
There will be fear.
There will be sorrow.
But as with all life, there must be balance.
Without heartache, there is no understanding of the true meaning of love. Without anger, passion cannot be comprehended. Without fear, there is nothing gained when overcome. And without sorrow, happiness can never be realized.
My soul takes flight with the fire inside me. It lifts as it becomes weightless like a Chinese lantern, further brightening the path in front of me as it floats, and I watch as eight-year-old Aubrey Miller approaches in the distance. Her features are angelic and the smile on her face is full of nothing but radiance and joy as she takes my hand, encouraging me to take my first step.
There is no death.
There is no anguish.
There is no dread or terror.
There is only us standing together hand-in-hand. Two separate entities as we become one.
I feel her energy seep through my pores and as her presence enters my soul, I know the darkness I created around her was exactly that—my creation.
Aubrey Miller was never death.
Aubrey Miller is just a girl.
A girl who has experienced a lot of loss, thus losing her way for a very long time by choosing to remain buried inside gloom and blackness.
A girl who has finally managed to find her light, coming forth through her fears and breaking free from her grave as she is truly resurrected.
A girl who I am proud to be.
Breaking free from my dream-like state, I turn to Linda and smile as I take my first step down the path.
“No more fighting, Linda. It’s time to go home.”