Creeping up from the armchair that sat next to his bed, I leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. He stirred, but didn’t wake. Quietly I left the room, tiptoeing across the polished wooden floor, closing the door behind me.
Seth had gone out—I didn’t know where—and Marta had gone home for a few hours so I had the house to myself. I made myself a cup of coffee and curled up on the sofa with my notebook.
Good memories. I forced myself to write one every day. Because I knew how heavily I was going to rely on them after he was gone.
Pulling a thick mink blanket over my lap, I opened my notebook to a blank page and began to write.
Valentine’s Day, 2005. Our first Valentine’s together.
I trawled through the offerings in the bookstore at the mall. My heart sank. Nothing seemed right. What do you give to someone who was facing the fight of his life?
A book seemed too impersonal. Chocolates were too cheap. A teddy bear? Nothing was memorable enough. I groaned in frustration.
“Still nothing?” Seth rounded the corner, raising his eyebrows at me.
“No. I can’t think of anything,” I grumbled. “You’re so lucky you don’t have a girlfriend. At least you don’t have to worry about all this Valentine’s Day shit.”
“Yeah,” Seth murmured, a sparkle in his eyes. “I’m so lucky.”
I grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the store. I was just about ready to give up. A sweater? No, I might as well just give him a pair of freaking socks.
“Em,” Seth said with a laugh. “Whatever you give him, he’ll love.”
“But I want it to be special. It’s our first Valentine’s together.” And maybe our last.
“So make it special.” He waved his arms around. “You don’t need all this shit to make it special. All you need is you.”
My heart swelled. He always knew the right thing to say to me. And he’d just given me the best idea. I stepped forward and hugged him tightly.
“You’re the best. Thank you!” I ran off before he could answer.
***
“Wow,” Andy mumbled, his eyes widening. He stood in the doorway, staring at me. I blushed, my fingers running over the soft lace of the black, low-cut dress I was wearing. Wait until he saw what was underneath.
He held out a bouquet of roses.
“I didn’t know what to get you,” he mumbled, his face coloring.
I smiled, taking the roses in my hands and lifting them to my face. I sighed as I breathed in their sweet scent. “They’re perfect.” I smiled. “Come in.”
He followed me inside.
“Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing.”
“I hope you like slow-cooked beef cheeks.” I walked into the kitchen, aware of him following behind me. As I leaned against the counter, he pressed himself up against me.
“I like you more,” he mumbled, his lips brushing past my neck. I sighed as his tongue worked its way down to my collarbone. Reaching for my hand, he turned me around. “Do we have time before dinner?” he asked.
“For what?” I giggled.
“Dessert,” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows.
Laughing, I swatted his arm. “You’re such a dork.”
“Maybe, but I’m your dork.” He lifted his hand to my face, resting my jaw against his palm.
I closed my eyes and smiled, amazed at what his touch was capable of doing to me. “It’s slow-cooked beef,” I said. “It can cook all night if it has to.”
I gasped as he lifted me into his arms and carried me off into the bedroom. He set me down and I perched myself on the edge of the bed, gazing up at him. He was so damn sexy, especially the way he was smirking down at me—like he knew something I didn’t.
He lifted his shirt over his head and I ran my hands over his bare chest. His skin was so soft and smooth against my fingers. After two rounds of chemo, his hair was beginning to grow back. He looked healthy. He looked like the Andy I knew.
My hands found their way to his belt. I kept my eyes firmly on his as I began to unclasp it, then the buttons. He smiled as I reached inside his boxer shorts and closed my fist around his cock.
“Look at you,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes and gasped as I freed his length.
“What about me?” I asked playfully, my fingers stroking his erection. “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no,” he moaned. I pushed his pants down over his hips, letting them pool at his feet. Stepping out of them, he kicked them aside. “Stand up.”
He took my hand and pulled me to my feet. His eyes connected with mine as he slipped a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me against him. I sighed as he kissed me, his lips soft and warm against mine.
He tugged at the bottom of my dress, lifting it up and over my arms. I shivered as he stepped back, staring at me, his expression one of awe. I pushed my body against him, my hands circling around his neck as I kissed him…
Seth had been right. I didn’t need to spend time and money finding the perfect gift because I was all Andy wanted. And he had me that night, over and over again in various locations around my apartment.
I smiled at the memory, pulling my lip between my teeth. That had been one hell of a night. And I’d learned something: it’s not the material things that show a person how much you love them, it’s the actions—what you do, how you act, and what you say—that matter.
Chapter Twelve
Seth
Andy didn’t get out of bed the next day. Or the day after that. He wasn’t doing well, and Em was becoming more upset by the minute. She refused to leave his side, even just to eat or sleep. I had to do something, because sitting by and watching her fall apart wasn’t an option.
By Sunday, I insisted Emily come out with me. I just wanted to get her away from the house. She was just going to sit there any worry when there was nothing she could do.
“Where are we going?” she asked, a twinge of annoyance in her voice, finally giving in.
“I don’t know, Em. I just wanted to get you out of the house for a while. What do you want to do?” I asked, sliding the gear stick into drive.
Emily shrugged. Her mind was still on Andy, and no amount of distracting was going to change that.
“He’ll be fine.”
She nodded, not looking convinced. She bit her lip, gazing out the window. I didn’t want Emily to know, but I was worried too. What if something happened to him while we were out? I glanced over at her. Marta was looking after him, but what if he died and we weren’t there for him? God, if something happened when I’d all but forced her out of the house . . .
“How about we get some lunch and take it back to the house? We can spend the day lazing on the beach.” My hands gripped the steering wheel as I glanced at her. I could try and keep her mind off things while still staying close to home.
“I like that idea,” she said, her face softening. “And maybe he’ll feel up to joining us later?”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I hope he won’t be well enough to join us.
Because spending the whole day with Em was both terrifying and exciting. My jaw clenched as I realized what I was thinking. I didn’t deserve a friend like him. Who thinks that way about someone they’re supposed to care about, especially when they’re dying?
I cringed as I remembered our conversation from the other day. He knew. He knew how I felt about her. And more than that, he didn’t hate me for it. It was almost like he understood. But I still couldn’t figure out why he’d brought it up. What was the point in confronting me about it? Was he worried I would try something? I felt a pang of anger that he’d think I was capable of that. I’d never risk losing her friendship, no matter how in love with her I was.
You need to let her go. Loving her is going to rip you apart.
I wanted to laugh. Because how could the way I felt possibly be a negative thing? It just wasn’t right. I loved her so fucking much, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. She wo
uld never know that someone out there loved her just as much as Andy did.
“Seth?”
I felt the color rise to my cheeks. Breaking out of my own head, I focused on Em. She was looking at me, waiting for me to say something.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if you think we’re doing the right thing, keeping this from Deb and Karl? I mean, how will we know when to call them? I can’t imagine if . . .” She broke off.
I swallowed hard. I’d been thinking that too. What if they never got the chance to say goodbye? “I don’t know, Em.” And I didn’t. I had no fucking idea about any of this shit. I was sick of everything. I was sick of second guessing my every action, wondering if I was doing the right thing. I hated feeling helpless.
***
We grabbed some sandwiches from the deli in town and some supplies from the grocer’s, and headed back to the house. It was just after noon and the sun was out, making it the perfect day to be spending outside.
I carried the bags into the kitchen while Emily went to check on Andy. She came back a few minutes later looking flustered.
“Is he okay?” I asked, my head immediately going to the worst-case scenario: I’d forced her out of the house and now he was dead.
“Yeah, h-he’s fine. He was awake.” She hesitated. “It’s just . . . he snapped at me, told me he wanted some time alone. He’s never wanted that before,” she said softly.
I put my arm across her body and pulled her against me, my arms curling around her waist. I closed my eyes, my nose buried in her hair, my head engulfed by the sweet smell of her shampoo.
“Don’t take it personally, Em. He’s allowed to have bad days. If it were me, every day would be bad. Give him some space, and he’ll come around.” Only he was running out of time.
Anxiety began to consume me. Was it a coincidence that he was acting like this after finding out how I felt? Was he punishing her for my feelings?
Andy, what the fuck are you doing?
He thought that by pushing her away, he could spare her the pain. Only it was too late for that. What he was doing was only going to make things worse.
“You take these out,” I said, handing her our lunch. “I’m just going to use the bathroom and I’ll bring out some drinks, okay?”
I waited until she’d left and then headed to Andy’s room. He looked up when I entered without knocking.
“What’s up?” He lay on the bed in his green flannel pajamas with the covers over the top of him. His eyes were heavy and dark, making his pasty, white skin look even paler.
Fuck, he looks bad. I swallowed, forcing myself to focus on why I’d gone in there. “Emily,” I replied, crossing my arms. “I know what you’re doing. And all you’re going to end up doing is hurting her more.”
Andy laughed. “Right. I forgot you’re the expert when it comes to my girlfriend.”
What the hell did he mean by that? Was that was this was about?
“I don’t care if you’re dying, man. You don’t get to punish her. She needs you. She needs this time with you. Don’t push her away.”
“I’m not, for fuck’s sake.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Did she tell you I shat myself this morning? Or that she had to clean me up because Marta was out getting my medications? Or how my catheter leaked so the whole fucking bed stank of urine? I don’t want those to be the memories she’s left with.” Andy sighed, his face creasing in pain as he struggled to sit up.
I didn’t know what to say. I was so caught up in protecting Em from feeling unwanted that my best friend going through his own private hell had somehow become an afterthought.
“I didn’t know that,” I said quietly. I sat down in the worn, leather armchair, struggling to think of what to say. There was no winner in this conversation: he was dying, she was watching him die, and I was watching her watch him die. We were all suffering. How do you move past that?
“Look, if I feel up to it I’ll get up later, okay?” he muttered. “But right now, I can’t be around anyone. But you need to be there for her, because she needs someone.”
I nodded. “Andy?” He waited for me to continue. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you. And I’m sorry for how I feel. I just . . . you have to know I’ve never acted on it, because you’re like a brother to me.”
“It’s okay, man. I’m not angry.” He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, a bitter laugh escaping his mouth. “I love you for being there for her. She’s going to need you when I’m gone.” He paused, his expression serious. “You know, I’m okay with dying. I’ve come to terms with that. It’s the thought of leaving her that I can’t stand.”
I nodded, because I got it. I really did.
Chapter Thirteen
Emily
“What do you think happens when we die?” I turned to Seth, my eyes searching his. I didn’t want the truth; I wanted comfort. I wanted him to tell me everything was going to be okay.
It was Monday afternoon, and we lay on the deck, staring out at the sea. The gray, overcast sky looked threatening as the waves crashed over the rocks, sending a foamy mess racing along the sandy bank. It was such a beautiful place, but at the same time the formation of the rocks and the way the water collided against them with angry fury was scary. Unpredictable. Kind of like how I was feeling.
Seth breathed out, his face creased, his blue eyes clouding over as he thought about my question. I studied him for a moment. There were so many little details about him that I’d never noticed, like the way his jaw twitched when he was deep in thought, or the way the left side of his mouth rose higher than the right when he smiled. And had that dimple always been there? Because I hadn’t noticed how cute it made him look when he laughed. I looked back out at the water.
“I don’t know, Em. I think there is something else after all this. I think that we come back and get to start over, and spend our lives looking for that one special person again.”
“You think there is only one person for each of us?” I asked softly. The thought made me sad. If that were true, then I’d never know love again. I’d never experience that rush of excitement of new love.
Anger bubbled inside of me. Who cared whether or not it was true? I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted Andy.
Seth shrugged. “I don’t know. But I think we know when something is right. And that’s what we look for. The feeling that nobody else in the world can compare. That without this person, your life is worthless, it has no point. I think you can have that more than once in a lifetime.”
I nodded numbly. I didn’t believe in anything. I’d lost too many people I loved for me to believe that everything happens for a reason. I snuggled closer into Seth’s shoulder as I thought about life and living, dying and death. Maybe I was destined to be alone. Losing the people I loved was too painful. Maybe it was easier to shut myself off than to risk going through this all again.
My fingers traced the cover of my notebook, the leather soft and luxurious against my touch. I glanced down and stared at the three words embroidered onto the front. Hope. Love. Happiness. I’d thought it was a sign when I saw it in the window of the gift shop. Who knows? Maybe it had been.
Seth glanced at me. “What do you write in that?” he asked. “I never see you without it these days.”
I handed it to him. His eyes widened as he took it, staring at it for a moment before flipping it open.
“It was Andy’s idea,” I explained. “That I write down one happy memory each day, so that when . . . after . . . I’ll have all these amazing memories to look back on.” I peered over his shoulder to see which one he was reading: the night I passed my final exams. I smiled at the thought.
He chuckled. “I’d forgotten about that night. I think that was the only time I really ever saw you drunk. As in, so drunk you could barely function.”
“That’s because you and Andy kept refilling my glass. I thought I was on my first wine, when in reality I’d had about ten,” I exclaimed. “My memory of that
night is surprisingly pretty clear.” I giggled.
“So you recall the prank calls then?” He laughed.
I cringed and groaned. Unfortunately I did. He and Andy had gotten me so drunk and then dared me to prank my professor. Which of course I had—ten times—pretending I was in love with him. The worst part was the professor was actually married, and a really nice guy. Or so I’d thought.
“That was your fault,” I grumbled, my face heating up at the thought. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to turn down a bet.”
“I was pretty impressed you were able to pull it off. You actually got him to agree to meet you for sex.”
“Don’t remind me,” I cried, laughing. Not that I would have ever gone through with it, but it did make retrieving my graded assignments off him the next week extremely awkward.
“That is why I don’t drink. Because I’m too easily influenced by you and Andy.”
“Bullshit. You’re too competitive, is more like it,” he teased, nudging me.
I glowered at him, knowing he was right.
“And then Andy ordered fifty pizzas with extra sausage to be delivered to Professor Walton because he gave him less than a perfect score.”
“Oh God, the look on his face when he opened the door,” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “And I still can’t believe you guys made me hide in the bushes outside his house.”
“But it was worth it.” Seth chuckled. “I’d never heard him use so many cuss words before.” He shook his head, his eyes clouding over. “We had some good times, didn’t we?”
I nodded. We had. The best times. When the three of us got together, anything could—and usually did—happen.
“I might just go and check on him,” I said, getting up. I walked back inside and made my way to his room. Every time I walked down that hallway a knot formed in my stomach. Seeing him only reminded me how sick he really was.
I pushed open the bedroom door. He was still sleeping. Quietly, I crept around to the side of the bed and pulled back the covers, climbing in next to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist. He stirred, mumbling incoherently. I reached down for the second blanket that lay at the foot of the bed. He was so cold.
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