One More Day

by Hadley, Auryn

Chapter 22

  The next few weeks were more of the same. Radiation wore her down like nothing else had, and the once a week chemo treatments were harsh. Her hair had started falling out on the eleventh day - when she went for that ride with Ryan - and was completely gone just four days later, on Christmas - which she slept through. Through out all of it, Ryan was at her side. On good days, they'd go for a ride, stopping at a park to lay in the grass and talk. On bad days he sat by her side, telling her over and over again how beautiful she was. Mack felt like she was living a dream.

  But of course all dreams must end, and hers did on a damp, cold Tuesday morning in January. She showed up for her radiation and followed the nurse inside. It wasn't Maria this time, but a woman named Grace. Ryan had kissed her sweetly, and she'd walked through the door, expecting things to go like they had for the past two weeks, but when she was led to a small private room, she knew something was wrong.

  "Mackenzie, the doctor will be with you in a moment," Grace said, smiling kindly before closing the door behind her.

  The clock on the wall ticked loudly, the second hand screaming in her head. She tried to tell herself this was normal. It had been almost a month. She had nothing to worry about, but that incessant tick droned on. At 9:07 a.m., someone tapped gently at the door and entered.

  "Hi, Mackenzie," Doctor Janis said, but her face wasn't happy. It wasn't even stoic. "I want to talk to you about the results of your last scan."

  Mack just nodded, pressing her lips close together. "It's spread, hasn't it?"

  "I'm not sure if it's spread, or not. The last scan you had was more sensitive. Both sides are affected. The left more than the right, but we need to do a radical hysterectomy. Now we've talked about this before."

  "When?" she asked.

  "The sooner the better," the doctor said softly.

  "Tomorrow?"

  "Mackenzie, this is a difficult surgery - "

  Mack waved that off. "I know, Doctor Janis. We've talked about this before." She took a deep sigh. "I'm not worried about that. We're just moving around the time frame. What stage am I in?"

  "It's still IIB."

  "And the chances of survival?"

  The doctor tried to edge out of that question, giving platitudes about how every case is different, so Mack grabbed her phone and opened a browser. She searched her cancer type and stage, then turned it to the doctor.

  "Thirty percent. I don't want you to kiss my ass, Dr. Janis. I want to know what I need to fucking do."

  The doctor reached over and touched her arm gently. "Did you want me to have your boyfriend brought in?"

  Those words were probably the worst thing she could have said. For over four weeks, Mack had lived the perfect life, slowly but surely falling in love with a man who was too good to be true. The same man had watched his mother wither away. There was no way she would let him watch someone else slowly die. He didn't deserve that!

  She might not know how to take care of herself, or even quite what she was feeling, but there was one thing she was sure of: she could protect Ryan from any more pain.

  "No," Mack said. "I want to tell him on my own."

  Dr. Janis nodded, offering Mack a weak smile. "Let me make a few calls. If we can admit you to Regional Hospital in the morning, I'd like to give you a unit of blood, since you're anemic. This will be an emergency surgery, though."

  She went on to explain the risks and additional complications that Mack was facing. No matter what she said, what she didn't say came across loud and clear. Mack was dying. She knew it, and she knew things had been too good to be true. They didn't expect her to survive.

  When the doctor left, Mack grabbed her phone again, searching frantically for any words of hope, new treatments, or even just a reason to keep trying. What she found was anything but. Story after story of women her age, not even thirty, dying to cervical cancer. Oddly, she had no tears. Probably because there were none left. Inside, she was simply numb. She'd had the most amazing few weeks. She knew she should be grateful, but all she could think about was how much this would destroy Ryan.

  Her knight in shining armor, the angel who'd protected her from the world; he would be the one this hurt the most. Listening to the damned clock tick, each second slamming into her brain like a sledge hammer, Mack knew what she had to do.

  She had to make him hate her.

  He was strong. He could move on from a relationship that had only lasted a few weeks. What he wouldn't be able to overcome would be her dragging on for months at a time, only to wither and die, her memory haunting the tattoo parlor that was his dream. She had to leave. She had nowhere to go, but she'd worry about that when the time came.

  When the doctor returned, it was to let her know that she needed to be at the Regional Hospital at eight in the morning, to check in. If her blood work was stable, she would be in surgery that afternoon. As the nurse escorted her back to the waiting room, Mack crumpled the appointment card, dropping it in the first trash can she passed, unaware that Maria was watching.

  Ryan greeted her with a smile, and Mack tried to return it, but couldn't. Maybe he'd just assume it was the radiation. It had been wearing her down, and he knew that. She hoped he wouldn't dig too deep.

  Back at the shop, she pleaded exhaustion and headed upstairs. Both guys stopped in over the course of the evening to check on her. Ryan was as kind and gentle as always, but she could see the concern on his face. He tucked the teddy bear in next to her and, with a gentle kiss, returned to work, leaving her to sleep off the treatment she hadn't received.

  That night, she faked sleep, letting him climb into bed beside her, barely opening her eyes until he simply curled his arms around her and passed out. When his breathing was deep and steady, she opened her eyes, watching him sleep for as long as she could, trying to memorize every perfect feature on his beautiful face. She didn't even dare kiss him for fear that he'd wake and stop her.

  Slowly, carefully, she climbed from the bed, and pulled out the bag she'd packed earlier. She removed her sketch pad, wrote a note, and set it at the foot of the bed, then shoved the bear in the top, tucking her medications beside it. Packed, she crept down the stairs, scared to stop, overly aware that she'd give in if Ryan asked. She couldn't do this to him, though.

  He deserved so much more than a sick girlfriend who would simply wither and die. He deserved to be happy. He deserved a goddess to pamper and spoil him, to make him feel like the saint he'd always been. Wiping at her eyes, she unlocked the back door and slipped out. She pulled her coat a bit tighter and draped the strap of her bag across her shoulder, then turned her feet to the nearest bus stop.

  It was a long, cold ride. Her stomach was tied in knots, but it had nothing to do with the upcoming surgery. All Mack could think of was how Ryan would react when he woke. Would he try to find her? Would he call? Would he simply accept what her note said, and move on? She couldn't decide which would be worse, so her mind spun in circles of despair.

  She stepped off the bus a block from the hospital, forty-five minutes early. She truly was exhausted. She hadn't slept all night, and the weeks of treatment left her weak and fragile. Shuffling along, she entered the automatic glass doors to a smiling nurse.

  "You have anyone with you?" she asked, seeing the bag and Mack's very bald head.

  "Nah," Mack said. "Just need to check in for surgery."

  "Well, let me carry that, and we'll take you upstairs. Which surgery?"

  "Hysterectomy with Dr. Janis."

  She nodded, and took the bag. "You want a wheel chair?"

  "I can walk," Mack said with a smile. "I'm slow, but I'm still kickin'."

  The nurse made it easy; otherwise she would have quickly been lost in the maze of halls and double doors that all looked the same. She was passed off to another nurse at a circular desk, then guided into a sterile hospital room. Dropping her bag at the side, Mack pulled out the bear and took her seat on the bed as she'd been directed.

  "Oh, now that's cute," the nur
se said. "Your boyfriend give you that?"

  Mack chuckled. "No. One of the clients at the tattoo shop. I designed a piece for his back, and my boss let it slip that I'd been diagnosed, so he brought me the bear. To keep me company."

  "Sounds like a nice guy," she said, "By the way, I'm Theresa." Then she returned to the basic admittance questions.

  Eventually, she ended up in the open back hospital gown, laying in the bed, yet another needle stuck in her arm. Clear fluid dripped in slowly, the machines down the hall beeping in an irregular rhythm, lulling her asleep, but it seemed like every time she managed to doze off, someone else woke her. First it was for blood work, then to give her a new band, and then it was to start her transfusion.

  Finally, she had a chance to get some sleep. With Tony's bear tucked against her side, Mack let her eyes slip closed, and saw Ryan's beautiful face. In her mind he was crying, or raging, or simply lost, staring at nothing. She sat up with a gasp, looking around, confused, for a moment, until she saw the nurse hurry to her side.

  "Mackenzie?" she asked.

  Mack rubbed at her face. "God, it was a bad dream. Sorry."

  "I bet," Theresa said soothingly, laying her back. "Let me get you something for anxiety, ok?"

  "Thanks." Mack took a deep breath, trying to fight the stinging in her eyes.

  She'd fucked this all up. She'd been so damned selfish, wanting the attention of the good looking man, that she'd never stopped to think about what she was doing to him. Sure, she was probably going to die, but then it would be all over, right? She'd done nothing. She'd been no one, but Ryan was different. He didn't deserve this. He'd done nothing wrong! By the time the nurse returned, Mack had her face pressed deep in the soft fur of that bear, trying - begging - the tears to just stop.

  "Hey," Theresa soothed, pushing the needle into the IV and pushing. "This is going to be ok."

  Mack waved that away and wiped at her face. "I broke up with my boyfriend this morning."

  "Oh no. I'm so sorry," the nurse said, holding her arm gently. "This can be as hard and as confusing to our loved ones as it is to us. I'm sorry he couldn't take it."

  Mack shook her head. "I dumped him." She sucked back a sob, and the nurse passed her a Kleenex, setting the rest of the box beside her. "Ryan's perfect. I can't drag him through all of this," she said.

  "Maybe he wanted to be there?"

  "No," Mack said. "That doesn't matter. He already lost his mom to breast cancer. We haven't been dating that long, just about a month. He's too good to be dragged through this."

  "Yeah?" she asked, pulling up a chair. "So why did you dump him?"

  "In case I die," Mack said with a shrug. "Ryan would never stop. He'd just keep doing the right thing, even if it ruined his life. I'd rather he had a few bad days, then a life time of bad memories."

  "So who are you staying with?" Theresa asked gently.

  Mack just shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't gotten that far. I have to make it through today first."

  "One day at a time, huh?"

  "Yeah," Mack breathed, feeling the medication starting to work. "Just one more day, you know?"

  "You want me to see if I can find a facility for you to stay at while you recover?"

  Mack chuckled a bit. "Probably better than my idea of a hotel, huh?"

  "Yeah. You feeling a bit better, now?"

  Mack nodded. "Thanks. I think the drugs are working."

  "Then try to get a bit of sleep. You have about an hour left of this, and then we'll start preparing you for surgery. If you need anything," She patted Mack's leg. "Even just an ear, press that button, ok?"

  "Yeah," Mack said softly. "I mean it. Thank you."

  She dozed again, this time without dreams. Each time the nurse walked in, she roused a bit, but never enough to consider it being awake. Finally, though, the doctor came in.

  "Mackenzie?" she asked.

  "Yeah?"

  "We're going to get this all out, you know that, right?"

  Mack shrugged. "Isn't it statements like that which get you sued for malpractice?"

  Dr. Janis smiled. "Maybe, but Theresa said that you broke up with your boyfriend this morning. Why are you even fighting this if you're so sure you're done?"

  "Well," Mack said, trying to put a very vague feeling into words, "Sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than permission. I'm not sure that really applies. Thing is, if I'm fine, then I can always crawl back and beg. If I'm not, then at least he won't be dragged through this, too."

  "Ok. Then let's make sure you have something to beg for, how does that sound?"

  "Have you ever seen Ryan?" Mack asked. The doctor smiled, and nodded. "Yes, he was pointed out to me at the clinic."

  "See," Mack said, "he's gorgeous, but more so on the inside than the outside."

  "Sounds like you're pretty fond of him?"

  "Yeah," Mack said softly. "I'm in love with him, but I never got the chance to say it."

  "You want me to call him?" she asked, smiling hopefully.

  Shaking her head, Mack said, "No. Not until this is done. Not until we know if it's all gone."

  "We won't be sure of that for months," the doctor said softly.

  Mack just nodded. "I know. It gives me something to work for and nothing to lose."

  Dr. Janis patted her hand gently, then left her with a pair of nurses. Mack watched her walk to the circular desk and speak with Theresa - her nurse - gesturing back toward the room. Theresa nodded and smiled, then said something back. Mack wasn't sure what it was, but she assumed they were talking about her. The next thing she knew, her entire bed was being wheeled down the hall.

  Chapter 23

  The sun was streaming through the windows when Ryan finally woke, which was odd, because Mack usually stirred, reminding him to get her medications before the sun was that high. He sat up suddenly and gasped. That also meant they'd slept through her treatment!

  Wrenching himself awake, he realized he was alone in bed. His phone lay on the night stand, but when he reached over to grab it, his foot kicked something. He checked the phone first, seeing that the alarm had been canceled, then patted in the covers for whatever he'd kicked. His hand closed on a cardboard covered sketch pad, the spiral binding something his hand would know in the dark.

  He recognized it before he even flipped the cover open. His groggy mind trying to figure out why Mack would have left it at the foot of the bed, he flipped through the pictures, stopping at a page filled with text. When he read the first words, he felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment, shivers of cold coursing across his skin.

  Ryan,

  I'm sorry to do this to you. I know you tried hard to be kind, but this isn't working for me anymore. I'm moving out. The times we had together were wonderful, but I need something more. I need to be free, not pampered like some kind of sick wilting flower, too delicate to touch.

  Go live your life, Ryan, and let me live mine. Having cancer has made me aware of just how fleeting things are, and that I can't simply sit around waiting for tomorrow. I can't keep living like this, repeating day after day, never progressing. I'm done. We're over.

  Find someone who deserves you more than I did.

  -Mack

  The better days of life were ours;

  The worst can be but mine:

  The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,

  Shall never more be thine.

  He re-read the words three times before they finally sunk into his mind. She hadn't just woken up before him, she was gone. Her things still cluttered his apartment, but she'd left. Unfortunately, he also recognized the poem.

  "Colby!" Ryan yelled, scrambling from the bed.

  He grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on. So that's why she'd been quiet all night. He'd thought she'd simply been exhausted! She'd been planning how to sneak out without him being able to stop her.

  "Colby!" he screamed again.

  "Fuck! What?"

  "Mack's gone."

  He hear
d feet above, scrambling. With his jaw set, Ryan stormed up the stairs, the book in hand. He crested the top in time to see Colby yanking on a shirt, his face wrinkled from the sheets.

  "She's gone?"

  Ryan just tossed the pad. "Yeah."

  Colby's eyes scanned the page, and he sighed. "Where's the poem from, Ryan?"

  "Byron," Ryan said softly. "And Thou art Dead, as Young and Fair."

  "Oh fuck," Colby said, sinking to the edge of the bed. "No. God, no."

  Ryan laughed just a bit. "She sucks at this, you know?"

  "Huh?"

  Ryan gestured to the book. "She's dumping me because it's worse. She's trying to cut the losses."

  "Is she going to die?" Colby asked, his hand tracing the tiny dancer on the opposite wrist.

  "I dunno," Ryan admitted. "I don't fucking know, Colby, but she sure as shit isn't going to do it alone."

  "Ok. She couldn't have gotten far. Check the hotels down the street."

  "Yeah," Ryan agreed. "You start calling hospitals?"

  "You think she's been admitted?"

  Ryan just nodded, jogging back down the stairs. "I don't fucking care if she even likes me anymore," he called behind him, "she's still not doing this shit alone! I love that girl too much to let her do that."

  "Don't tell that shit to me," Colby yelled down the stairs.

  "I have to fucking find her before I can tell it to her," Ryan growled, rummaging through his things, not even trying to be gentle.

  "Bro," Colby said, boots in hand. "Call her. Maybe she'll fucking answer?"

  Ryan nodded and dialed, pulling on a shirt while he listened to it ring. "Sweetie, where are you? I'm worried sick about you. Just call me back and tell me you're someplace safe?" He hung up. "Fucking voice mail."

  Colby grabbed his and dialed. With a sigh, he hung up. "Me too. Ok. Maybe she has an emergency contact on file? I'll start making calls to hospitals, but I need the computer downstairs."

  They both hurried, Colby heading to the front desk, Ryan to the office. "Fuck," Ryan said. "It's 1:30, put a damned sign on the door that we're not opening."

  "Yeah," he said rounding the corner. With a groan, Ryan heard him unlock the door. "I'm sorry, we're not going to be open today," he told someone.