Authors: Jennifer Ann
“Hey.” I reach for him, but decide against it, folding my hands in my lap instead. “Will you please tell me why you have so many scars?”
Still looking down, he rambles on to himself. “Try to understand why I did this, why I invited you to come along. I promised Zach I would try. Right before he died, I told him I’d go out without any regrets.”
“
Go out
?” I repeat, warding off a chill. In the past week he’s talked more about his best friend’s death, how it was slow and painful for him in the end. But what does Zach’s death have to do with us? I frown, shaking my head. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sick, Jewels. This list...the need to get out and do these things, it’s because I’m dying.”
THIRTEEN
Somewhere back in the dark corners of my mind, I knew this moment was coming, although I tried to pretend it wasn’t real. I kept telling myself the weight loss and extreme exhaustion were only my imagination. I purposely denied myself the masochist thoughts that would bring our little fantasy world crashing down. But I never once guessed that he was actually
close to death
.
“Sick with
what
?” I manage quietly, my head spinning. “How long have you known?”
Staring at his feet, hands folded, elbows resting on his knees, he sighs. “I’ve been sick pretty much all my life. Type one diabetes. That’s why I met my best friend in the hospital. That’s why my parents kept me sheltered and wouldn’t ever take me anywhere. That’s why my brother was always the successful one in the family, even though he’s a spoiled jerk. That’s why I felt this need to go out and see things. That’s why I created the list.”
He finally looks up, his beautiful eyes reflecting with overwhelming hurt. “I spent nearly six solid years of my life in a hospital. I’ve had
three
transplants. Two pancreas and one kidney. My body rejected all of them. I don’t even
have
a pancreas anymore.
I’m what they call a ‘brittle diabetic’ because my blood sugar is particularly hard to control.
A couple weeks before I met you, I was told my remaining kidney isn’t working properly. Rather than go through the hell of another surgery and probable rejection, I chose to go on this trip with you. I’ve been crashing at my buddy’s to avoid my parents.
They said if I refused the surgery it’d be like walking out of their lives. But I’m tired of being in the fucking hospital, having feeding tubes and ports stuck into me, being incredibly weak and sick for months on end. I’m lucky I’ve made it this long without dying from an infection, or from the wrong mix of medications, or a thousand other complications I’ve faced over the years.”
He wipes at his face. I know it devastates him that I’m seeing him this way; weak and broken down. And it kills me to hear of the horrors he’s faced. I want to wrap him in my arms and cry with him, but I’m still struggling with the shock of it all.
“
Damn it
, Jewels. I don’t have much time left. I saw this trip as a chance to do one big thing before I go out. One real shot at being
normal
for as long as I can, without doctors and surgeons poking at me. It’s easier to pretend when I’m with you that nothing’s wrong. I didn’t purposely set out to break your heart. I didn’t know I’d fall in love with you.”
A million little holes pierce my heart.
He loves me and he doesn’t have much time left.
Angry and dejected, I bolt to my feet. “I don’t understand what you’re telling me. You could live if you had the surgery, but you’ve just decided to give up? You’re not even going to
try
to get another transplant?” Sobs wrench my throat, coming out in more of a pained wail. He reaches out to comfort me, but I fight back, swatting at him with my hands. “I knew your secret was monumental, but why would you hide something that your life depends on? How could you just refuse to do something that will save your life? We have to get you to a hospital!”
“You don’t understand what it’s like, going through the surgeries. The pain that comes after I’ve been sawed open, or having to get around in a wheelchair after because I’m too weak to even walk across a driveway. Waiting for my body to reject it, then getting sick from the drugs they pump into me trying to reverse it. It’s total hell. I wouldn’t wish this kind of life on anyone. Not even my worst enemy.”
He sits motionless on the couch, looking totally broken. I thought he was getting a bit thinner, but I was lying to myself and pretending I didn’t see all the other signs. Rimmed red eyes, pale skin, it’s almost as if he’s close to disappearing.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, seeming out of breath.
“Don’t be
sorry
! Being sorry won’t help anything! You can’t
do
this
, Adam! You can’t just give up! We need to fly home and get you to a doctor!” I jump to his side, crashing into his arms. “I need you! Don’t you understand?”
His lips press to the side of my head. Do they feel more delicate, or is it my imagination kicking into overdrive? “I can’t go back. I spent most of my life in a hospital.
I don’t want to die there, too. I’m just ready for it to all be over.”
I lean away to look him in the eye, trying to understand how he can simply give up on something that could save his life. “You made me believe you wanted to do this because of your best friend’s dying wish.”
“That part is true,” he says with his lips against my ear. His hands trail up and down my back, filling me with a false sense of comfort. “We met two years after I was diagnosed and practically lived in each other’s hospital rooms. I used to think I could beat this because Zach had it even worse than me. He was two years older and had gone through three pancreas transplants before we even met. His mom had to home school him after third grade. A few weeks before his heart gave out, he went blind and he couldn’t eat food because his stomach nerves were shot from all the surgeries. We went through a lot together. He made me promise I’d live life to the fullest while I still could, and I swore I wouldn’t let him down. After he died I couldn’t make sense of it all. I decided it isn’t worth fighting this hard when eventually I’ll die from the disease anyway.”
Looking into the depth of his eyes, I see an old soul inside, one who’s experienced the highs and lows of life. Something I could probably never understand. But I want to. I want to help him fight this and be his shoulder to cry on.
I harden my gaze. “When Zach told you to do those things, I guarantee he didn’t mean for you to give up in order to make it happen. I’m so sorry your friend died, Adam.
I don’t know
what
I would do if something happened to Kel. But do you think she’d just stand back and say ‘okay’ if she knew I was blowing off my chances of living to screw around? Do you think Zach would’ve turned down another surgery that could’ve cured him?”
He turns away, his eyes wet. “You didn’t know Zach.”
“I don’t have to know him. I know
you
. You’re an amazing, good, incredibly sweet guy with a lot to live for. If you let me take you back, I’ll stay by your side as long as it takes for the surgery and your recovery. I’ll stick with you like you did with me after I was roofied. I’ll help you through it, because that’s what people who love each other do. I’m not going to let you just give up. It’s not just
your
fight anymore! You have to do this for
both
of us! I don’t care if it sounds selfish of me to say that. It’s true. If you really do love me, you’ll let me take you home. I tried to pretend I didn’t feel anything for you because losing Jason destroyed me, and I couldn’t let that happen again. But I was lying to myself. I care too much about you to walk away.”
The corners of his mouth twitch with a smile that never comes to full form. He rubs away my tears with the side of his hand, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry to put you through this. But I decided long ago that I can’t go through it again. You saw my scars. You must understand what the surgeries do to me. I get why you’re angry, and I’ll understand if you leave. I still can’t say that I regret any of this.
Meeting you, going on this trip, it’s been the best time of my life. It’s better than I ever imagined. I’ll always be grateful you agreed to come along.”
For the first time in my life, I really want to punch someone. Probably not Adam, who apparently has enough to worry about without his girlfriend
or whatever I am
going crazy, but someone,
anyone
. I burst from the couch, trying to pace my breaths to keep from hyperventilating.
“So you’re just going to fucking sit there and tell me goodbye?” I spit. “You’re not even going to
try
to fight this so we can be together? What am I supposed to say to that? It’s been nice knowing you? Good luck with your journey into self-deprecation?
You can’t just fall in love with someone and not give a shit what it does to them! You can’t let me fall for you and then push me away! That’s not how love works!”
His eyes fall flat, although filled with tears. “We both tried to stop it from happening. I knew that night on the bus it was just your way of trying to make things mean less between us. Please believe that I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Too fucking late!”
Everything becomes a tinged, watered down red when I fly to the steps that will take me outside, away from the brutal truths and broken reality.
Wandering through the streets of New York, I never really get the feeling I’m actually lost. On our last trip, my mom and I were able to navigate our way through the grid system, so I always have a glinting sense of exactly where I’m located. I catch slivers of the Empire State Building to my left, and the gleam of the Chrysler Building far ahead to the right. Around four blocks down, however, I realize I not only forgot my phone in the brownstone, but I only have $10 in my pocket. Even better yet, it begins to sprinkle.
I duck into the heavy wooden door of the first Irish pub I come across. It’s relatively quiet inside with only two other patrons sitting at the bar. Probably not surprising for an early Friday afternoon. The bartender, washing glasses behind the bar, flashes me a bright grin when I settle on a stool in the middle.
“Mornin’, sweetheart. What can I get ya?” He’s tall and slender with carrot orange hair and an accent so thick it takes my brain a moment to catch up. The man and woman sitting separately at the bar glance at me for only a moment before their interest waivers and their eyes return to the TV.
I pat the corners of my eyes, wondering just how much of a wreck I look after crying.
After Adam broke my heart. “Something with caffeine. Diet Coke?”
“Comin’ right up.”
The bar displays the same collection of liquor in two sections, divided by a decorative mirror and TV where a soccer game plays. Like the bar from the other night, dozens of flags from Ireland are displayed near the ceiling. My spirits sink lower with memories of the night I gave myself to Adam.
The bartender sets a glass of pop on the bar in front of me. “It’s on the house. Ya look like ya could use a pick me up.”
I smile artificially, deciding I’m not in the mood to share my twisted problems with a total stranger. “Thanks.”
I sip on the drink, my eyes trained on the TV as fresh tears spill down my cheeks. Of all the things Adam confessed, telling me he’s giving up was the worst. Hearing him say he won’t even try for
my
sake makes me wonder if he really does love me, or if he was just saying it to make me feel better among the string of shitty news. I know so little about diabetes. I don’t really understand the function of a pancreas, and didn’t know you could function on one kidney. How long does he have left?
After a few minutes I feel movement of someone claiming the bar stool next to me, smell their heavy, musky scent of an expensive cologne or aftershave. Feel their big hand brush against my back.
“Jewels.” Theo grins down on me, dressed in a slightly rumpled suit and bright red tie that look oddly perfect on his hulking frame. “What are you doing here alone?
Where’s Adam?”
Blame it on the alcohol still in my system, blame it on the fact that we shared a jaded form of intimacy the night before, blame it on Adam for dumping his destructive secret on my shoulders, but I burst into a heaping mess in my hot neighbor’s arms.
Sitting in the private booth at the back of the pub, I gather my hair over my shoulder and collapse against Theo’s side. He rubs my shoulder in a way that’s more sympathetic than sexual. It’s exactly the right kind of comfort I’m craving, considering Kelly is thousands of miles away.
I left the brownstone over an hour ago. In Theo’s arms, I was finally able to release the feelings I’ve been harboring for so long to have a good, proper cry. Theo didn’t push me to tell him what was wrong. He just held me against his chest and let me cry it out until I was able to talk. Other than the fact that I probably ruined Theo’s designer suit and freaked him out for a little while, it felt amazing.
I glance at the clock mounted above the bar. “He’s probably going crazy about now. I should go back.” I look up at Theo, my shoulders slumping. “What am I going to do?”
“The way I see it, there’s only one solution to this mess,” he tells me, his chest vibrating with each word. “I saw the way he looked at you last night when he wanted to leave. The guy’s a total goner. And considering you love him back, walking away isn’t going to work. If he’s set against having the transplant, trying to force him into it will only make him angry. You’re going to have to ride this trip out with him, Jewels. Make sure he doesn’t spend whatever time he has left alone, feeling rejected.”
I wipe at my running nose with a napkin and huff. “That’s all you got?”
His shoulder lifts behind me. “Love can’t always be about what
you
want. Sometimes it’s about letting the person you’re in a relationship with know that they’re the center of your universe, even if you have to give up something to be with them.”
“This sounds suspiciously like a lesson you’ve deduced on your own.”