Eastern Lights

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Eastern Lights Page 28

by Brittainy Cherry


  I pulled up the search engine on the internet and began typing with one finger at a time as my heart pounded hard in my chest.

  What is cancer?

  What happens if my mom dies?

  How long will my mom live with cancer?

  Is my mom dying?

  Each word I typed made my tummy hurt even more. If Mom died, who would take care of me? Where would I go? How could I live without her?

  I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t live without her.

  After typing too many words and feeling even more sad than before, I climbed back into bed with Mom and wrapped my arms around her. I laid my head on her chest to make sure her heart was still beating and her chest was still rising and falling.

  “Mom,” I whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear me. Tears started falling from my eyes as I lay against her. “Please don’t do it, okay? Please…please don’t die.”

  37

  Aaliyah

  Present day

  I hadn’t heard from Connor since he’d texted me that he’d landed in California. I’d sent him a lot of messages, and when I began to worry, he texted me back once. It was a vague and short reply.

  Connor: I’m okay. Busy. See you once back in town.

  I hated that when I read his message, worry and doubt hit me.

  Don’t overthink it, Aaliyah.

  The day he was supposed to return to New York, I went ahead and prepared dinner for him. I made a spread of his favorite foods and lay out a tray with every type of Cheetos I could find.

  He came in two hours later than he said he would be home, and when he did, he looked destroyed. His tie was loosened, and his eyes were heavy. He smelled like whiskey, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was happening. Had Jason burned the building down to the ground in California? What was weighing so heavily on Connor’s shoulders?

  “Hey,” I said, moving closer to him.

  He pushed out a forced smile. “Hey.” He walked past me without greeting me with a kiss, no hug—nothing. The alarm started building in me, but I tried my best not to let it show.

  “I figured you might be hungry after the trip, especially dealing with Jason and his crap, so I made you some of your favorite foods. And—”

  “Are you dying?” he spat out, looking at me for the first time since he’d stepped into the house.

  His words made my whole system go into shock.

  My lips parted to speak, but no words came out at first. Then, I whispered. “What?”

  He took a few steps toward me. He lowered his head before looking at me with pain-filled eyes. “Are you dying, Red?”

  “How did you find—”

  “Jason. I guess it got back to him that you and I were…a thing. That’s why he called me out to California—to throw it in my face that I was picking up his leftovers, and then he told me you have heart failure. So, I came here to have you tell me it wasn’t true. So, please…tell me it isn’t true,” he begged, his voice cracking.

  My lips parted, but I couldn’t cohesively collect my thoughts to say anything that made sense. “I’m sorry, I…”

  No words came to me.

  He looked seconds away from completely falling apart.

  I did that to him.

  I made his soul ache.

  I took a step in his direction, and he held his hand up. He put his head down and stared at the floor before sliding his hands into his pockets.

  “I’m…I’m sorry,” I said, uncertain what else I could tell him.

  It was all I could think to say. When he looked up at me, his eyes were glassy, as if my apology was enough to tell him that I was, in fact, sick…that I was dying. It was in that moment that I saw the switch go off. I saw the moment he began to pull away from me.

  “Listen, I think we kind of rushed into things,” he started.

  No…

  No…don’t do this…

  “It’s probably best if we keep our situation friendly instead of diving into more. Honestly, I’ve been falling behind on work, and I need to truly refocus on the projects I have on deck. I don’t really have time for—”

  “Me,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “You don’t have time for me.”

  He grimaced and brushed the palm of his hand against the back of his neck. “It’s probably for the best, you know? I mean, we were never supposed to really be serious. Cutting it off before feelings get involved is probably the best idea. We can go back to just being friends. This is all moving too fast, and I just need time to regroup.”

  How could he say that? How could he act as if we hadn’t already developed feelings for one another after all we’d shared?

  “I, uh, I’m going to get to work,” he said. That was it. There was no more conversation to be had. He walked into his office and shut the door behind him.

  I didn’t see him for the remainder of the night. I couldn’t sleep at all. My mind was spinning too fast. All I wanted to do was go across the hall and knock on Connor’s door, try to explain everything to him, try to express how sorry I was for lying about the severity of my illness. So, I did. I went to his office and knocked. When I didn’t get a reply, I turned the knob and opened it. He wasn’t in there. I checked his bedroom, and he wasn’t there, either. I checked every other place in the house, including the rooftop, and I had no luck finding him.

  He was gone.

  A few days passed, and Connor never came home. After about four days of silence, I showed up at Connor’s job to talk to him. I knew the conversation we had before he left hadn’t gone well, but I wasn’t ready to give up on us. I needed to be able to get through to him and make him understand I didn’t mean to lie to him, let him know I wanted to be as open as possible. I just needed a chance to speak to him face-to-face again, now that we both were aware of the situation.

  “Jason?” I gasped as I walked into the lobby of Roe Real Estate and saw my ex-fiancé standing there. He turned to face me. At first, he appeared shocked, but that quickly evaporated into a look of disdain.

  “Wh-what are you doing here?” I choked out. I hadn’t seen him since I was moving out of the penthouse, and I’d hoped I’d never have to cross paths with him again. If he was nothing more than a distant nightmare to me, I’d be perfectly fine with that fact.

  He looked smug as he fiddled with the designer cuffs on his designer suit. “I actually am part owner of the business you’re standing in, so I should be the one asking you that question. Flew in to finish a conversation with Connor.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks and arched an inquisitive brow. “What are you doing here?”

  My mind shot back to the reason I’d shown up to Connor’s office. To talk to him. To see where his head had been. To figure out how we could make what we had work. Yet I couldn’t say that to Jason.

  Even though I shouldn’t have cared—he had, after all, stood me up on our wedding day—I did.

  A wicked smirk curved his lips. “So those fucked-up rumors were true, huh?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve been screwing my partner? News travels fast. I just didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “It’s not what you think, Jason.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, it’s exactly what I think. I think you’re a whore who got her feelings hurt and tried to latch onto whatever she could to keep her head above water.”

  “That’s not it at all.”

  “Was this your way to get back at me for standing you up? You thought you could screw my partner to get me to care?”

  “What? No…I—”

  “Here are the facts, Aaliyah,” he said, stepping closer, making me feel as if I was boxed in even though we stood firmly in the middle of the lobby. “I couldn’t care less about who you’re fucking because I couldn’t care less about you. You’ve never been anything but arm candy to me, nothing of substance. You’re a pretty girl and a decent fuck, but not someone any guy would want to really take home.”

  “Y
ou almost did,” I choked out, feeling tears burning behind my eyes. “You were going to marry me.”

  “Yeah, and thank fuck I came to the realization that I was making a huge mistake. I mean, let’s be honest—you’ll probably drop dead any day now, judging by how ghostly you’re looking, and I, for one, didn’t want to foot the bill for that. You were just a business transaction for me. If I agreed to marry you, I got the West Coast division. That was it. I didn’t want to deal with you. I doubt Connor would feel any different about it than I do.”

  “You’re wrong. Connor’s not like that.”

  He laughed mischievously. “You really think Roe gives a damn about you? I know that guy. I’ve worked around him for years. The truth is, if you aren’t making him money, you aren’t worth his time—especially someone like you. Connor is a businessman, and he doesn’t make bad deals. Let’s face the facts: you are a bad deal. If anything, you’re a liability. He doesn’t have the space for you in the empire he’s trying to build.” Jason moved in closer and ran his finger against my cheek, cruising it down my jawline. “Don’t you get it, Aaliyah? You’re no one’s forever. You’re just a temporary fix. Besides, after all the shit Connor has been through with his mother being sick, it’s real fucked up that you’d put him through your drama. You’re showing up, just to drop dead on the guy. Real classy, Aaliyah.”

  I swung his hand away from my face and took a giant step back. My mind was swirling faster than I wanted to admit. My vision was blurring as the emotions pushed to the front of my eyes. I turned away from Jason and rushed out the door, straight onto the streets of Manhattan.

  I hated Jason. I hated him so much, and everything he stood for. I hated how he’d abandoned me on my wedding day. I hated how he lied. I hated how he betrayed me and made it hard for me to trust. I hated his anger, his personality, his heart. I hated how cruel he’d been.

  But what I hated most about him was how he made sense, how I could see how someone wouldn’t want a forever with a girl who had limited time.

  I hated how his words aligned with Connor’s fears.

  I hated how Jason was right.

  38

  Connor

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Marie snapped as she burst into my office.

  I’d been working on overdrive the past few days, avoiding facing reality with Aaliyah, and the fact that Marie came barging into my office left me stunned. She didn’t even notice Damian, who was sitting in my office chair.

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, did I miss something…?”

  “Is it true you are seeing Aaliyah?”

  Jason must’ve brought his mother into the loop, and that was the last thing I wanted to deal with. I didn’t want to face the fact that Aaliyah was sick, that she was dying. I didn’t want to face the fact that there was truly going to be a day where she wasn’t around. So, the last thing I needed was Jason Rollsfield’s mother in my face hollering at me about what was going on between Aaliyah and myself.

  “Listen, Marie, this isn’t a good time right now.”

  “It sure the hell is, and I need you to end it, okay? Whatever it is that is going on between you and Aaliyah needs to come to an end.”

  It already had, but I didn’t need her to know that. All I needed from Marie was for her to leave my office.

  “Whatever is going on between Aaliyah and myself is none of your business, Marie—”

  “The hell it isn’t,” she spat out, pacing my office as if she’d lost her damn mind. “No. No. She has to be with Jason. They are meant to be together! I didn’t go through all of this for her to end up with you!”

  “What do you mean you didn’t go through—”

  “Leave her alone, Connor. She’s not yours to have. I fought for this, fought for her, and I’ll be damned if you come in and ruin this for my family!” she barked, tears sitting sternly at the back of her eyes. “End things, or else,” she said sternly before pushing her purse strap higher on her shoulder, turning around on her heels, and marching out of my office.

  As she was leaving, Damian looked at her with a raised brow, but didn’t say a word. He then looked over toward me, confused.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked.

  “I have absolutely no fucking clue.”

  “Well, regardless of that, you look like shit,” he stated. I knew I looked like shit. I hadn’t slept in days. My mind was working in overdrive, and I couldn’t focus on anything but the idea of Aaliyah dying. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit. What’s going on?”

  “Just work stuff.”

  “Bullshit again. I know your looks when work stuff is bothering you. That isn’t it.”

  “Can you just drop it, Damian? I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped. Yeah. I snapped at him. I felt guilty about it instantly, too. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “Obviously. Like I said—you look like shit.” He took a seat across from me. “Is it something with Aaliyah?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Yeah. So, let’s talk about it. What happened?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and shrugged. “Nothing. I ended whatever it was that we were doing with one another. I figured it was best if I focus on work instead of putting my focus in other places.”

  He snickered. No shit, Damian actually laughed. “You got scared, didn’t you?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I do. I’m not an idiot.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Is it because you found out she was sick?”

  I looked at him, stunned by his words. “What? You knew?”

  “Yup.”

  “How?”

  “I told you, I researched her. I did digging when I realized you liked her to make sure she had no skeletons in her closet.”

  “And you found out she was sick?”

  “Yup.”

  He said it so calmly, which pissed me right the hell off. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

  “Because I knew you’d push her away, which clearly that’s exactly what you did.”

  I raked my hands through my hair. My blood was boiling as Damian told me all of this as if it wasn’t dire information that I could’ve used. If I knew Aaliyah was sick, I would’ve never let my feelings grow in the way they had. I would’ve never opened up. I would’ve never allowed myself to fall.

  I knew better than this.

  I knew better than to get close with someone.

  “You should’ve told me,” I said.

  “I’m glad I didn’t.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that? You wanted me to feel shitty like this?” I barked as the rage built more and more.

  “No. I just wanted you to feel.” He shifted in his chair and leaned forward. “I get it, man. I’m heartless. I don’t feel deep for anyone. I wasn’t built that way. But you’re different. You were made to love, but you let your fear of losing people get in the way. I knew if you found out Aaliyah was sick, you’d push her to the side because of fear.”

  I knitted my brows together and grimaced. “That’s not why I stopped things with her. I stopped because she lied about it.”

  “But she didn’t.”

  “Omitting telling me the truth is a lie.”

  “I don’t tell you when I go to shit, but that doesn’t mean I lied about it. It just wasn’t something I told you.”

  “I’m being serious, Damian.”

  “So am I. Stop acting like she’s some kind of devil because she didn’t tell you how bad off she was. You’re acting like a dick.”

  “Fuck off a bit, will you, Damian?”

  “Nah. I’m good.” He made himself comfortable in his chair. “Let’s unpack this situation.”

  “There’s nothing to unpack.”

  “There you go lying. Your baggage is heavy, shit, maybe heavier than mine.”

  “What do you wan
t me to say?”

  “That you pushed Aaliyah away because you’re scared of her dying.”

  I started shifting paperwork around on my desk. “I really don’t have time for this, Damian. So, if you don’t have anything work-related to tell me…”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then you can leave. And you know what? Fuck you for not telling me about her. That was really shitty.”

  “What can I say? I’m a shitty person. Go ahead, be pissed at me, I don’t give a fuck. Take as long as you need to throw your anger my way. Whatever makes you happy. But then, at some point you’re going to have to face the fact that you’re throwing away something good because you’re afraid.”

  “What do you want me to do, huh? She’s dying, Damian and—”

  “We’re all fucking dying!” he snapped, tossing his hands up in irritation. “The day we take our first damn breath, we begin to rot. The only real guarantee in life is that we will all meet our maker someday. Life’s clock is ticking loud for all of us, man. We could walk outside and get hit by a semi and have our lives ended in a split second. That’s it. That’s the only thing this world promises us—death. But with Aaliyah, you have an actual shot at living. A lot of assholes are alive but aren’t living. They aren’t tapping into the deepest levels of happiness, and you could do that with Aaliyah no matter how short that time would be.”

  “You don’t understand…”

  “Sure, I do. Before you met me, I wasn’t living. I was merely existing, but then you came into my life and gave me drive. You gave me family. So, don’t tell me I don’t understand. Whatever, man. Be pissed for as long as you need to, but don’t miss out on that level of happiness due to your own stubborn fear. Most people don’t get a shot at real love before they die. Don’t be those people.” He stood from his chair. “Knock, knock.”

 

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