by B. Celeste
“I—”
“The nurses are assholes,” I say, sneering at the door as a few of them walk by in their scrubs. “They kept telling me someone would be out to give me answers, and nobody ever did. Not once did those doors open, Emery.”
She apologizes, but I don’t want her to.
I don’t know what I want from her.
To fight, I guess.
I want her to fight.
To win.
For me.
Then she tells me what Mom already mentioned about her health update. And none of it is good. Nothing. The crack in my chest widens.
And when she asks, “Are you going…to go to M-Maryland still?” all I can do is gape at the loaded question.
She’s asking because she needs to know as much information from me as I do her. What’s next. For her. For me. For us. Is there an us? Something beyond the friendship we’ve formed. The bond that’s cemented us. I don’t know. I’m afraid to wonder for too long.
If I could save Emery, if giving her up would do that, could I? Could I move forward? Move on? Let her do the same?
I would.
In that moment, in a heartbeat, I decide I’d do just that—move on without her if that’s what it’d take to keep her here.
It’s a promise I make to myself. “We’re not talking about college right now, Emery.”
“Are you going?”
I blink at her insistence.
“Kaiden… I need you to go to UM, okay? It’ll make me h-happy.”
It’ll make her—
My throat bobs as I acknowledge what she’s doing. Mapping out my future. One she won’t be part of. My eye twitches and throat gets dry. So dry.
“Cam will be happy too,” she continues, wrapping her fingers around mine when I force myself forward. I see our fingers linked, but don’t feel them. I feel numb. “I’ll v-visit when I can. When you have games, I’ll…come see you play and cheer you on.”
I’ll visit you when I can.
Why don’t I believe her?
Emery starts rubbing the back of my hand with one of her fingers, a soft caress that does little to comfort me. “Don’t tell Cam I told you this because she wants it to be a surprise, but she already bought a bunch of UM sweatshirts and memorabilia. I’m pretty sure I even saw one of those foam fingers.”
She’s trying. For me. That’s the only reason I try smiling in return. I fail, and my lips flatten, but it’s there. The effort, no matter how painful it is. It kills me. Slowly.
Emery keeps telling me about the sweatshirts, but I couldn’t care less about them. I flip our hands so mine is squeezing hers. Afraid I’m too rough. Afraid I’ll hurt her.
But she’s hurting me.
Does she see that?
Does she care?
Do I want to leave a mark on her like she’s left on me? Because right now, it seems like that’s what we’re trying to do. Make sure we’re remembered. Take advantage of the time we have in this moment together.
“Kaiden?” she murmurs, her thumb stopping in the middle of its movement against my skin.
“Yeah?” My heart pumps wildly.
“Thank you.” I lift my gaze in disbelief of those two words. What the hell could she be thanking me for? “Thank you for being my friend. My best friend. Anyone could have stepped up and…tried knowing me and they didn’t. It was always just you.”
The gaping crack that’d been in my beating organ becomes a black hole.
If Emery wasn’t holding my hand, I wonder if I could have folded into myself. Caved to the wild drum of my heartbeat. Into the abyss.
Emery is thanking me when I don’t deserve it. Giving me some sort of award when I don’t want it. Because being her friend became second nature to me. Effortless. We worked because we’re one of the same. Dark pasts. Battered souls.
Hers just becomes…lighter with every word she passes along.
And I know what that means.
Closure. She’s getting closure.
We’re not given enough time together before the door opens and a man in a long white jacket walks in.
His expression grim as he starts talking.
“Ms. Matterson,” he begins, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this…”
Emery lays there in bed.
Mom is crying.
Henry looks pale.
I start shaking violently.
Emery squeezes my hand like it’s me being delivered the bad news. When I turn to study her, there’s relief on her face.
Why, Mouse? I want to ask.
What are you thinking, Mouse?
I need those answers.
But they never come.
Options come from the expert speaking to us, though they all lead to the same forlorn conclusion. Nothing good.
Tragedy.
But the true tragedy is the acceptance in Emery’s hazel green eyes as they go from me, to Henry, to my mom.
Fight for me, Mouse, I want to demand.
She doesn’t.
“How long?” she asks the doctor.
“It depends.”
“Mouse,” I whisper brokenly.
She can’t do this to me.
“If I don’t…” she swallows. “If I don’t do dialysis, how…long?”
I growl at her carelessness.
Dr. Thorne takes a deep breath. “You are at end stage renal failure. To be honest, it’s not long. But everybody is different.”
Her eyes close. Maybe so she doesn’t have to see what she’s doing to us by choosing this path. Maybe for other reasons I don’t want to think about. “So even if we try adjusting my medication first, there’s a chance…?”
“Yes.”
The room grows eerily silent.
Too silent.
Thick with anticipation. Fear.
When her eyes open again, they don’t find mine at all. They go to Henry. “There’s nothing to discuss then.”
Look at me, Mouse.
She doesn’t.
Look. At. Me. Mouse.
Her eyes never turn in my direction.
“Jesus. Fuck!” I slam my bad hand against the wall and storm out of the room.
Because if she won’t look at me, how can I look at her knowing what she’s choosing for herself?
Mom catches the elevator doors before they close, sliding through so it’s the two of us descending.
I slide down the back wall until I’m sitting on the ground, legs drawn to my chest.
She does the same, her legs stretched in front of her. “Kaiden. Talk to me.”
“She’s going to die.”
She’s silent, but nods.
“She’s not going to stay.”
Her arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me into her body for a side hug. “Inevitably, the decision isn’t up to us. I wish it were. I do. But she’s eighteen. She’s her own person, sweetie. And I think…” She pauses, her hand smoothing over my back. “I think she’s tired.”
“What about me?”
I’m tired. Exhausted. But I’m here. I’m fighting. Every damn day.
When I pull away, her image is blurred by the tears I’m holding back. I blink them away, shifting until there’s space between us.
Mom looks crestfallen at the distance.
“You’ve been here for her the whole time. It’s important now more than ever to be with her for what time is left. Don’t you think?”
I stare.
Teeth grinding.
Jaw locking.
She’s not wrong.
But she’s not right.
“I’ll never forgive her,” I declare.
Her frown deepens. “Oh, Kaiden.”
I shake my head, positive that I mean it.
Her hand finds mine again. “Maybe you won’t. But you’re young. And maybe you’ll never understand why this is happening, but someday you may understand her reasoning if nothing else. And that will give you the chance to find some semblance of forgiveness.”
Ho
w does anybody understand these things? I may be young, but so is Emery.
Death targeted her. It’s unfair. Why her? Why not somebody more deserving of the sentence?
“She wanted to know if I was going to UM,” I say emptily as the elevator gets closer to the ground floor.
Mom shifts beside me, hefting a sigh. “I think Emery needs to know everybody will be happy in whatever they decide for the future. They’ll move forward with their lives even if she…doesn’t. Which is another reason why we need to be there by her side when she ultimately makes her choice in what her future looks like.”
She already did.
“She says she wants me to be happy.” I click my tongue, laughing coldly. “What even is that anymore?”
Mom doesn’t have an answer.
I don’t think she ever will.
“You’ll figure that out,” she promises.
But it’s one she should have never made.
AUTHOR NOTE
Kaiden Monroe has been on my mind since Underneath the Sycamore Tree released in November 2019. I knew I wanted to write more about him but needed time. I also knew whatever I chose to write would need to stick true to his character.
And Kaiden has always struggled. With his anger. With expressing himself. I knew the next thing I wrote about him would need to show what grief does to him—that bottling things up is not the answer like he wants it to be. That medication isn’t always the answer like he hopes it can be. That forgiveness is rarely easy. No matter if you loved the person you’re mad at.
Kaiden and Emery’s story will hold a very deep part of my heart. And this short follow up means just as much because it means Kaiden is getting a chance to properly heal. To move forward, even if it’s not completely moving on.
Thanks for sticking with me and Kaiden
xx
B
About the Author
B. Celeste’s obsession with all things forbidden and taboo enabled her to pave a path into a new world of raw, real, emotional romance.
Her debut novel is The Truth about Heartbreak.
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