by Dori Lavelle
"It's the best present ever. Thank you." Her shoulders shook as he held her.
Shaun let her weep until all she could do was hiccup. Then he broke the embrace. "Want to try it on?" he asked.
Carmen smiled, and for a moment Shaun forgot that she was blind. Every smile opened a window to her old self, the happy and carefree woman he had once known.
"Does it look exactly the same? The color?" She wiped the tears from her cheeks, looking expectantly up at him with unseeing eyes.
"Every bit of it." His voice caught. "I want to see you in it. Will you wear it for me?"
Carmen shook her head, her long black hair swinging like a rich curtain. "Not yet. I have to show you my present first." She felt around her on the bed. "My cane?"
Shaun handed it to her and helped her to her feet.
"Can you find my handbag?"
Shaun looked around for it. Carmen’s handbag was large and bright red—hard to miss. He couldn't remember bringing it in from the taxi. "I don't see it here."
Carmen shrugged. "We must have forgotten it at home or in Mom's car." She laughed, and the sound rang so clear it soothed him. "Well, there goes my surprise."
Shaun reached out for her and lowered her onto his lap. "You can tell me about it. I can try to visualize it." He whispered into her ear. "Is it the kind of thing I always want on our anniversaries?" He gave a mischievous grin.
"What else?" Carmen traced his jaw with her fingers, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. "I know it's been a while since we... I thought tonight..."
Before she could finish talking, Shaun tipped her to the side and lowered his lips to hers. She didn't resist. Her warm mouth opened and he tasted her, bringing her back to them. As he tightened his arms around her, refusing to let her slip away, he wondered why she was not wincing from pain. Sometimes a single touch could awaken the dormant pain, which attacked her every few hours, every day.
Maybe the new pain medication the doctor had prescribed two days ago was working.
He shoved these thoughts aside and enjoyed his wife; he was aching for her so bad he thought his hardness might burst through his pants. They kissed as if they had only just discovered how good it felt.
They kissed, moaning, until any thoughts or worries inside Shaun's head had turned to mush, until the world stopped turning, and he forgot what had happened to them, what awaited them. Until she pulled away.
"Don't stop," he begged, breathless. "Please."
Carmen rose. "I have no plans of doing so. I want you just as much as you want me." She lifted an eyebrow. "That rock inside your pants needs softening."
They both laughed. Slowly, Carmen opened the buttons of her dress and let it fall to the floor.
Shaun bit his bottom lip and lay back on the bed, resting on his elbows. "I love what I see." He prayed that this time they made love, she wouldn't cry. And he wouldn't feel like an ass for hurting her.
Carmen removed her bra and her round, full breasts were released, driving Shaun out of his mind.
With her face turned toward him, she slipped a finger into the elastic of her panties, ignoring her protruding hip bones, and lowered them down her hips.
Shaun sat up and unbuckled his belt. His eyes didn't leave Carmen's body; he swept her with his gaze, from her beautiful face down her graceful neck, over her perfect breasts, down her flat stomach, and rested at the small triangle between her legs. He yearned for her so badly he had to force himself to be patient, so as not to ruin it. She was reaching out to him, to them, and he would not mess it up.
Finally, the panties pooled at her feet and she stepped out of them, and took a few timid steps toward the bed. She knew she was going in the right direction, and if not, he'd steer her. She never needed her eyes to see him.
He stood up to unzip his pants and remove them, but Carmen pushed his hands away and did it for him. Then she pulled his t-shirt over his head. Once they were both fully naked, standing face-to-face, breathing heavily in the quiet room, she took his hand and they lowered themselves onto the bed.
Under the covers, they took their time rediscovering each other, relearning the paths they once knew so well and had almost forgotten. He kissed every inch of her, taking everything she wanted him to have.
When he thrust into her, she screamed out, her voice loaded with passion. Each gentle thrust was a promise that all would be well, that they could overcome even the worst sentence fate handed them. This, what they had now, what they felt, was worth living for. And when their world shattered, she clung to him as if he were a parachute that would stop her from falling too fast.
Spent and weak, they lay in each other's arms, bodies sleek with sweat, hair damp and flat against their heads, their breathing ragged. As he stroked her hair, a smile spread across his face, but froze when he felt her tremble. He looked down and lifted her chin. Pearly drops clung to her eyelids This time his heart splintered.
He cupped her chin with his hand, unable to breathe. "Baby... hey, I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?"
She bit her lip as sobs racked her body, and then she swallowed. "I wanted this. I wanted this... I wanted you so bad. But it hurts. Everything hurts. It never stops."
"The whole time you were hurting? Why didn't you say anything?" Anger seeped through the cracks in his voice. "Why did you let me hurt you?"
"It's our anniversary," she whispered. "I didn't want to let you down."
Shaun kissed her face, kissing away the tears. "Baby, you can never let me down. Never. I would have waited. For you, I'd wait forever. I'll get you some water." He pushed back the sheets but before he could swing his legs out of bed, she gripped his arm so hard he wondered where she’d gotten the strength. He gazed down at her and a glimpse of the suffering she'd endured over the past months shone in her eyes. The pain. The loss. The surrender.
"Please help me, Shaun. It’s too much." She curled into a fetal position, eyes closed. When she opened them again, they were shining with tears. "I can't..." Her voice shook along with her body. "I love you, but I can't do this anymore. I tried." Her hand dropped from his arm and landed next to his thigh.
Shaun ran a hand down the side of his face, his heart snapping in two. "Baby, you can do this. We can do this together." He leaned down and planted a kiss on her hot and sticky forehead. "I'll call the doctor. I'm sure we can still start some kind of treatment. Even if they don't know where the cancer came from, we could still try chemo...just in case. Please."
Carmen shook her head weakly. "No. I don't want to go through that if it’s not going to heal me. I don't... Please." She was sobbing now and curled up into a ball, her body shaking so hard Shaun feared it might break apart in front of his eyes. "Help me, please." She was shivering now too, as though suddenly cold. Her whole body shuddered.
Shaun swallowed the hot lump in his throat and lowered himself next to her. He held her. What more could he do?
He rocked and cooed and kissed her. "What do you want me to do, my love? How do you want me to help you?" As soon as he said the words, he regretted it. He knew the answer, but still he prayed with every inch of his being that she wouldn’t say it.
"I want to die." She whispered the words into his chest. "Let me go, Shaun."
He broke down then, both of them crying for everything they had lost and would never get back, and everything they still stood to lose. He wanted the same thing she wanted. In that moment, as he imagined a life without her, he wanted to die too. Without Carmen, he'd have nothing to live for.
Carmen's sobs were relentless, and Shaun felt he was falling into unknown depths. "I can't do it,” he said. “The pain will go away."
Even as he said this, he realized he would never know exactly how much pain she dealt with every day. The only pain he had experienced up to now was hers, secondhand. The pain she rubbed off on him when he held her. How could he know how it felt to live in darkness when you had once glimpsed the light?
And how could he know what it was like to live when you felt you d
idn't have anything left to live for? No matter how much he tried, he'd never know what his wife was going through, the extent of the pain that drove her to the edge of the cliff, made her want to jump, to surrender, to die. He loved her too much to see her suffer like this. He loved her too much to see her fall apart.
"Help me die," she begged. "I don't want to wait until the end."
Shaun wiped his eyes with the sheet and pressed his lips against her forehead. Did he have the right? No matter how much he wanted to free her from the pain, the hopelessness, did he have the right to help snuff out her life completely? But if he didn’t, and he let her chance at freedom slip by, would he be able to bear it? Watching her die every day, until she was nothing but a shell?
Did he love her enough to give her the one thing she wanted most? Did he love her enough to save her? Would he be selfish if he did? Or would he be selfish if he didn't?
"Okay," he said, his voice a pile of glass shards. Together they drowned in the pain.
She turned her wet face up to him. "Thank you. I love you." She relaxed in his arms, like a balloon losing air.
Her trembling ceased, and all that was left was their soft crying. This was it.
After she was gone, would he be able to hold on to her smell? How long would the good memories they'd woven together last in his mind before dissipating? He couldn't think of that now. He had her for a few moments longer.
"The shoebox," she said weakly, leaning close.
"Shoebox?" He furrowed his brow. "What..." His voice was barely audible too, tired and torn.
"It's in the shoe... shoebox." Her eyes shut.
Suddenly, it dawned on Shaun what she meant. He had agreed to help her die, and he didn't even know how his wife would leave this world. Would it be peaceful, or would it be in more agony than she had already endured? It seemed she already had the answers—she had already made plans, knowing this day would come. She’d known she would change his mind. She had probably been ready since the first time she'd asked him.
Shaun winced as he moved her in order to get out of bed. He refused to think or breathe. Or to feel anything that would dissuade him from helping the woman he loved most. It was all he wanted to do. Nothing else mattered.
With sluggish movements, he went to her suitcase, which he'd thought was filled with clothes. But it contained only one dress, which concealed a shoebox. Heavy-hearted, he lifted it. Whatever it held would be followed by unbearable repercussions. Relief for her. A lifetime of heartbreak for him.
The sane part of him told him to put the box back in the suitcase—or better yet, throw it away. But his hands, his heart, his mind all refused to listen.
Help your wife, a little voice said. Just concentrate on the now. Forget the future, forget the past, just do what you think is right for her now.
Breathing out a stream of air, he lifted the lid. He blinked at a syringe filled with something that must be deadly. She was a nurse, so it couldn't have been hard to get a hold of whatever medicine she needed. The trip to the hospital with her mother... She must have used the opportunity to steal it.
Carmen cried out in pain. Shaun shook his head and rushed back to her side, still carrying the box.
It didn't matter. She had gone the extra mile to get the syringe. She was that desperate. And he had promised to help her. He was part of the reason she was in this state. He had destroyed a part of her, and the cancer was working on the rest. The least he could do was to give her what she wanted.
CHAPTER FORTY
Kelsey bent over the sink and sucked in a breath to fend off the nausea. Sweat beaded her forehead. Her makeup was running, but she didn’t care.
"Stop pretending to be fine, Kelsey. I think you should see a doctor. Those pains are not normal. What if the miscarriage damaged something?"
Kelsey turned to see Delia standing at the bathroom door, arms crossed. Delia had spent the weekend at Kelsey's apartment so they could go over the restaurant plans and discuss fabrics.
Kelsey inhaled again and picked up her toothbrush. "I'm fine. And I have no time for doctors right now. The renovations have to start today."
"I'm not asking you to take a whole day off. Just an hour or two to take care of your health."
"Don't worry. I have an appointment with my doctor for a checkup tomorrow anyway." She raised her toothbrush to her mouth. Was she imagining things or were her hands swollen?
"If you don't go, I'll drag you there myself." Delia returned to the bedroom.
Kelsey finished brushing her teeth and reapplied her makeup. Half an hour later, they were at the run-down building that would soon become her beautiful restaurant.
***
Kelsey walked to her car with a stack of folders. Delia followed her, heaving the rest. They'd just had an inspection done at the restaurant to make sure they could proceed with renovations.
Kelsey pulled her car door open and was just about to step behind the wheel when what felt like a hot knife stabbed her in the lower back and twisted itself. The folders fell out of her hands, and she dropped to her knees next to the car, clawing in the dirt with her fingers.
From a distance, she heard a scream and her name being called. The pain wouldn’t let her respond. She felt herself trembling uncontrollably, and then she tipped to the side. Her eyes closed.
***
When the ambulance arrived, Kelsey was awake, but seeing black spots. The knife in her back was still twisting.
On the way to the hospital, Kelsey did two things she already regretted. She'd thrown up in a plastic bag until she'd reached the point of dry heaving, and she'd attacked both Delia and one of the paramedics with words she didn't even know existed in her vocabulary. Delia for speaking a little too loud, and the paramedic for insisting she wait until they were at the hospital before she got pain medication.
By the time they entered the hospital building and she was wheeled into an examination room, she was drifting in and out of consciousness. But she was able to offer the medical staff the consent they needed to conduct any required tests just moments before she sank into the depths of unconsciousness.
When she awoke, she was attached to a machine that made whooshing and bumping noises. The pain in her back was dull. She blinked her blurry eyes until her vision cleared. Through the window, she saw it was dark outside. She must have been asleep for hours.
Her father, in a crumpled suit jacket and no tie, sat in the chair next to her bed, sleeping. He looked older than the last time she saw him.
“Daddy?” Her voice sounded alien to her own ears.
He opened his eyes and gave her a small smile. “Sweetheart, you’re awake.” He reached out to smooth her hair. “How are you feeling?”
“Confused. What’s wrong with me?” She ran her tongue over her parched lips.
Her father tensed, but before he answered, a doctor strode in, holding a clipboard under his arm.
“Miss O’Neil. I'm Doctor Smith. I’m glad to see you looking much better. Any more pain?” He smiled.
“Not much. Can you tell me what’s wrong with me? You ran some tests?”
The doctor’s smile vanished when he arrived at the foot of her bed. “We did.” He peered at his clipboard and then gazed at her. “You came in with severe back pain.”
She nodded. She remembered the pain all too well. Why had his smile suddenly vanished? And why was her father’s head bowed? What was going on?
"Well, that pain was triggered by kidney stones in both your kidneys. Rather than wait any longer for them to pass, we can have you scheduled for a procedure in a few hours."
Kelsey blew out a breath. She had heard of excruciating pain brought on by kidney stones. A pain that some compared to childbirth. But she also heard they could be removed with no major complications. "Of course, please have them removed as soon as possible."
The doctor jotted something on his clipboard. He cleared his throat. "There's something else, Miss O’Neil. We detected cysts in your kidneys." He paused, w
aiting for her to digest the information. "Further tests revealed that you have autosomal dominant polycystic kidney disease."
Kelsey gripped the sheets at her sides. "Kidney disease? How is that possible?"
The doctor glanced at her father, who was still looking at the floor. She had never seen him look so helpless before, not even when he was sick. "The disease is hereditary,” the doctor said. “Passed on from parent to child. Unfortunately, it can go unnoticed for years, decades, even. Yours was confirmed after a talk with your father, who—"
"Dad?" Kelsey said, and her father finally looked up, his eyes brimming with pain.
"Two weeks before your mother died, she was diagnosed with ADPKD. We planned to have you screened but... When she died, I... I forgot. I’m so sorry." He grasped her hand. "I'll make it up to you. I promise you that.” He blinked furiously. “I'll make sure you get the best treatment there is."
Kelsey’s heart pounded, her blood boiling in her veins. How could he forget a thing like that? But she knew how. After her mother died, his business had taken priority over everything else in his life. Including her.
She wanted to lash out, but the remorse in his eyes made her restrain herself. He had changed since then. Why and how everything happened didn’t matter right now. She needed to find out what could be done. "Will I be okay? Am I going to die?"
"Over time, the cysts have replaced much of the mass of your kidneys. This, I’m afraid to say, has led to kidney failure."
She pinched the bridge of her nose as her head pounded. In her peripheral vision, she saw her father leave the room discreetly.
In a split second, her world stopped turning, and she was trapped. Trapped inside a body that didn’t feel like hers, a body that had let her down. A body she thought she knew.
When she finally collected herself, she met the doctor’s gaze. "What options do I have?” She choked on her words. “Is there a way to get them to function normally again?"
The doctor shook his head. "You have end-stage renal disease. You need dialysis or a kidney transplant to stay alive. We can discuss your options in more detail after we remove the kidney stones."
