It was a huge thing, me telling her about my gambling problem, and I did it because for the first time in a long time I was proud of myself for being strong enough to resist.
I’m a fucking lost cause.
I stalk up to my room, but then remember Erin is sleeping in my bed. She can’t see me like this. She deserves better. In my drunken, self-absorbed state, all I can think about is how much of a disappointment I am. She deserves better than me. It’s hard to believe that I was the best choice out of thousands of applications. She couldn’t find one that was able to put her needs first? I should do her a favour and just leave.
I rifle through my wallet for her spare room key and let myself into her room. Walking over to her bed, I collapse in a heap, my head spinning from way too much alcohol and lack of sleep. All I want to do is close my eyes and forget about tonight.
Maybe if I’m lucky, I won’t wake up.
Chapter Sixteen
Erin
I roll over, wrapping myself up in the blankets, expecting to feel the warmth of his body next to me. Instead, I’m jolted awake by the icy-cold sheets where he should be. I sit up and reach over, turning on the lamp.
“Cade?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
No answer. I reach for my phone to check the time. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust and see that it’s after nine, Sunday morning. I’m shocked that I slept so long, but I must have needed it. I lie back against my pillow and sigh. The last thing I remember is falling asleep in his arms around ten last night. I’m trying to work out what it is I’m feeling, but there is so much going on in my head, it’s hard to identify what’s real. I like him a lot. That much I know. Am I falling in love with him? Maybe.
No, I can’t be in love with Cade. That’s not fair on him. I should’ve been stronger and not given in. I never should have kissed him, or let things progress as far as they did last night. Is that why he left? Maybe he’s embarrassed over what happened and can’t face me to tell me the truth. I cringe, thinking about it.
I lie in bed for as long as I can, until the guilt of wasting my last morning here is too much. This trip is everything I hoped it would be, but at the same time, it crushes me because I know what’s coming. I try so hard to be strong, but God, this is killing me. Literally.
The good days are getting fewer and farther between. My head constantly aches, I feel sick, and I can’t eat much at all. If I was at home I’d be curled up in my bed, or worse, in hospital, hoping for a miracle or death—whichever came first. But I’m not at home. I’m living my dream and I’ll be dammed if I don’t make the most of it, regardless of what my body is telling me.
I’m not sure Cade has any idea how sick I actually am. I hide it from him is much as I can. I see the concerned looks he gives me, and I laugh off any suggestion he has that maybe I should take it easier, rest for a day here and there. But I’m not here to take it easy. I’m here to push myself. I’m here to live.
And I’m also here to die.
Wow. That’s the first time I’ve admitted that to myself. I keep it close to my chest because it’s the card I’m not sure I’m going to play. I started researching assisted suicide before I even decided to do this trip, convincing myself that it was ‘just in case’.
That’s why I wanted someone like Cade with me—someone unattached enough to be able to support me without bias if I decided that is what I needed to do. That’s something I would never expect nor ask my family to do.
All I wanted was for it to be up to me to decide when my time is up and not let this disease do for me, because who knows what’s going to happen next? I could end up on life support with my mind slipping away from me. The idea of losing the essence of who I am is too much to bear. I wanted to have the option there for me if I decided I needed it. I just wanted the chance to control. There is dying and there is choosing to die, and I was sure the latter was the better option for me. But as it becomes more real and the end creeps closer, I’m not sure I can do it. Because I didn’t expect to fall in love with him.
Now as much as I doubt whether I can do this myself, I don’t think I could do it to him. How can I make him live with that? How can I ask him to help me die? It’s just not fair. He sacrificed so much to come here and help me, and for what? A free trip is nothing. That doesn’t even begin to cover everything he’s done for me.
Does he love me? I don’t know. But I do know that he didn’t come here expecting to fall in love. And I’m sure as hell he isn’t expecting to lose me during the course of this trip.
After I’m showered and dressed, I make my way down for breakfast. I still haven’t seen or heard from Cade, but I’m not worried. He knows our flight is at two in the afternoon. I try him again after my breakfast of an orange juice and half a piece of toast. Still no answer.
It’s lunchtime, and I’ve just returned from a walk around the morning markets. There is still no sign of Cade, and I’m starting to get concerned. What if something happened to him? I head back to his room again, hoping he came back while I was out. I check the bed and the bathroom, but there is no sign of him.
I anxiously pace the room. It’s not rational, because he’s only been missing a few hours, but I can’t shake the feeling something has happened. Why else would he be missing? He knows what time our flight is, just like he knows how important this next part of our journey is to me. If I could only see one place, it would be Paris, and I don’t want to experience it without him.
I may not have known him very long, but it feels like a lifetime. Probably because more good has happened in these last two months than in the rest of my life. A stab of anger hits me. Why couldn’t we have met five years ago? Why am I falling in love with someone just before I’m gone? Is it not bad enough that I’m twenty-four and dying—I had to fall in love, knowing I’m going to lose him?
I’m calling the police. I dig out my phone to Google the Spanish emergency number, when it hits me to check my room. Why the hell didn’t I think of that earlier? It’s the logical place for him to go if he needed space.
I walk to the next room and let myself inside using my second card. Immediately I spot the lump under my covers and relief floods through me. Thank God.
“You had me worried,” I laugh, my breathing laboured from doing too much walking this morning.
I walk over to the bed and nudge him to wake him up, but I get no response. He’s so out of it. He must be exhausted. Smiling, I lean close, deciding there is only one way to wake him. The urge to kiss him dissipates as soon as the overwhelming stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke hits me. I step back, both annoyed and concerned. What the hell happened after I fell asleep? He’s so drunk he’s on the verge of being comatose, which is impressive for the middle of the day.
“Cade,” I say, my voice rising. “We are going to miss our plane.”
This time I get a weak groan, which at least tells me he’s still alive. That’s something, I guess. I have no idea what is going on with him, because he won’t talk to me. One minute I think we are connecting on a whole new level, and the next he’s like this.
“Fine. Be that way. I’m so glad I could fund you getting off your face while I sit around and wait for you to sober up. Find your own way to the airport.”
I grab my bag and storm out of the room. I’m so angry that I’m shaking. I can’t believe he’s doing this. Tears threaten to pour down my cheeks, but dammit, I won’t let him see me cry, nor will I let him ruin this for me. I’ll leave him here in Spain before I do that.
I know I’m running out of time. I can feel it every second of every day. Even just the short walk to the taxi rank is leaving me out of breath. As I reach the trunk to place my luggage, my vision disappears for a millisecond, just long enough to make me panic. The driver jumps out and grabs my bags, asking in broken English if I’m okay. I nod, ignoring the curious looks of a few bystanders, and let him assist me into the back seat of the taxi. Just breathe, Erin. Relax. I close my eyes and lean my head back, listening to th
e sound of my heart beating, my hand resting against my chest.
How much time do I have left? I hate leaving angry at Cade, but I can’t help it. I don’t even know if it’s him that I’m angry at. Maybe I’m angry at myself. Maybe I’m angry at the world. I thought I was handling this. People keep telling me how brave I am, but the truth is I’m not brave. I’m a fraud. I put on a face and let people think that I’m this amazing, strong person when inside I am weak. Because the truth is I am scared, more than I’ve ever been in my life, and I am terrified of doing this alone.
I’m terrified of doing this without him.
Chapter Seventeen
Cade
The sound of her slamming the door shut jolts me into action. I sit bolt upright, my pounding head a reminder of just how much I had to drink last night. Hell, I don’t remember half the night and I’m not sure I want to. Forget about what I’m doing to myself—all I can think about is how much I’m letting her down.
I have to get to the airport.
I surge into gear, throwing my things into my bags at lightning speed. I’m still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and I don’t bother changing because I don’t have time. I reek of stale cigarettes and alcohol, which is a great combination for a three-hour flight, but I don’t care. My only focus is getting to the airport before the plane leaves.
In the bathroom, I cup my hands under the running faucet and splash my face, the freezing cold water stinging my eyes. I glance in the mirror and laugh. I look like shit, but it’s nothing a few days sober won’t fix.
I’m out the front and hailing a taxi cab less than fifteen minutes after she left. I sigh with relief as one finally stops, happy I’m at least going to get there in time for our flight. That doesn’t mean she’s going to forgive me for acting like a shit, but at least it’s a start.
I find Erin sitting in the airport, iPad in hand, drinking a cup of coffee. She looks up as I walk in, her eyes narrowing slightly. She has her long hair tied back, and in her long, flowing dress, she looks carefree and healthy. I walk over to her and smile apologetically. Her cool stare back at me tells me she’s going to make me work for her forgiveness.
“I owe you a huge apology,” I begin. I sit down next to her and rest my arms on the table in front of me. Her eyes are red. I’m not sure she’s been crying or if it’s just an indication of how she’s feeling. Either way, my guilt creeps up a notch. “Can we just write the last few days off and start again?”
“I’m shocked that you’re even here, to be honest. I was just sitting here, psyching myself up for doing the rest of this alone.”
“I’d never do that to you,” I all but growl.
Her eyebrows shoot up at the passion in my voice.
“I told you I’d be here for you, and I am. I never want you to think that I’m deserting you, okay? No matter what I do, or say, or however stupid I act, I’m always going to be there for you.”
Her expression softens and she smiles. “I know this is hard for you, too. I get it, I do. And I appreciate what you’re doing for me more than I can say. I can never repay you for this.”
My stomach twists into knots. I’d pushed out of my mind what I’m getting out of this, but hearing her say that has brought it right to the forefront of my thoughts. How crushed would she be if she found out that not only are her parents paying me a huge sum of cash to babysit her, but my own are matching it? I don’t even want to think about her reaction. Hell, I would be livid if the situation were in reverse.
“I mean it,” she continues. “All you’re getting out of this is a stupid trip. You probably came into this thinking ‘yeah, great, I’ll hold this dying girl’s hand, show her a good time, and that’ll be that’. You couldn’t have been expecting this. You couldn’t have been expecting us.”
“Us?” I mumble. I swallow, my throat constricting.
“Yes.” She pauses. “This. Whatever this is. Anyway, I’m sorry I was angry. You’re allowed to have an off day.”
“I don’t want an off day,” I mutter. “I want you.”
Her eyes widen, and just as she opens her mouth to respond our flight is called over the loudspeaker. My words hang in the air around us, unanswered.
“We better hurry,” she mumbles.
I nod, grabbing my bags and hers before standing up. We walk in silence to the gate. Why the fuck did I go and say that? I glance at her. What is she thinking? What if I’m misreading the situation? I sigh and rub the back of my neck. The effects of being hungover are making me paranoid, but I can’t help it. Until I hear her say that she wants this, I won’t be able to relax.
“What happened?” she asks when we’re comfortable in our seats. “Last night? You were in bed with me and then you weren’t.” She looks away, embarrassed. “It’s not even that I’m angry, I just don’t understand…Is it that I’m dying?” She stares at me, a troubled look in her eyes.
“It was nothing to do with you,” I lie. “I heard from Bella and that tipped me over the edge.”
“She actually called you? What did she say?”
“That she took care of it,” I say simply.
It’s odd, but I don’t feel anything. All the emotion and all the anger I had yesterday towards Bella have vanished. Now I just feel empty. It’s a strange feeling to have about someone you’re supposed to care so much for, but in the past few weeks things have changed so much. I’ve changed.
“I’m not even sure what it is I’m angry about. I can’t change anything, and she was right—it was her decision.” I stop, trying to form my thoughts. “I think what most upsets me is I thought we could get through anything. I thought we’d be friends for life, but I don’t think we can come back from this.”
“Give it time,” Erin says, reaching for my hand, her touch igniting something in me.
I wish it were that simple, but I know time won’t fix this.
“Maybe this happened for a reason,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe this whole mess will give me the push I need to move on.” I laugh and shake my head. “I never thought I’d say this, but I think I have moved on.”
“You don’t love her anymore?” Erin looks surprised.
I think about it for a moment. Maybe I never really loved her. I fixated myself on someone who was out of my reach, but maybe that was my way of protecting myself from letting anyone get too close. I look at Erin and I can’t imagine not having her in my life. What I’m feeling for her far outweighs anything I ever felt for Bella.
“I don’t know,” I reply, not ready to release my thoughts. “I think I’m still processing this all.” My mind is imploding with conflicting emotions. More than anything, I want to tell her how I feel but I’m nervous. I’m scared of losing her. I’m scared because I’m going to lose her, and knowing that is coming soon is just too much to deal with. Having feelings for her is one thing, but acting on them takes this to a whole other level.
“So what happened last night?” she asks, changing the subject. “Where did you go?”
“You mean, did I gamble?” I ask, saying what she really means. “Yes. I lost a couple of hundred dollars. But then I stopped myself, drank too much, and went back to the hotel.” I’m still so disappointed in myself. To get this far and then stumble, it’s soul-crushing.
“I guess that’s better, right?” she says encouragingly. “It might not feel like it, but that shows some kind of control. I imagine it would’ve been easier to just cave and place another bet, and then another one.”
“I guess,” I mutter. I’m not convinced. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve handled everything past Bella telling me she was pregnant badly. Last night was no different. Maybe I should tell her about the money. I need to be honest. But I can’t handle the thought of her being angry at me again, not to mention the grief it will cause for her family. She would kill them if she knew the truth. She’d kill me too.
**
Walking out of the airport in Paris, I can feel t
he excitement bouncing off Erin. I don’t doubt for a second that this is what she’s been waiting for this whole trip. Everything comes down to this. This is what she’s dreamed of since she was a little girl—seeing Paris.
I just hope I can do her dreams justice.
We head to the hotel first, just to drop off our luggage. Neither of us want to waste a minute of our time here, because four days just doesn’t feel like enough. I have a quick shower, aware that I still stink, and then I quickly text Bella to tell her I’m okay.
Cade: I hope we can still be friends, Bell. I’m sorry you had to go through this alone.
As I press Send, it’s like a weight lifts off my shoulders. So that’s what keeping the peace feels like. Maybe I should try that with my family.
While I wait for Erin I have an idea—probably the best idea I’ve had in my life. She wants this to be special, so I’ll make it special. I’ll make sure this night is one she will never forget.
Leaving her a note that I’ll meet her in the bar downstairs, I sneak down to the front desk and ask to speak to the manager. He wanders over, and smiling widely at me he takes my hand in his, nearly crushing it in a firm shake.
“Can I help you sir?” he asks in a strong French accent.
“I hope so.” I grin. “I’m here with my girlfriend and I want to make this special for her.”
It feels both strange and nice to call her my girlfriend. Even though we haven’t had that conversation, it’s easier to use the term than explain our complicated relationship.
“She’s dying, and this might be her last trip,” I explain.
His eyes turn sad and he frowns.
I quickly continue, not wanting this to be about her illness. “What I’m wondering is if while we’re out you can do something for me? We have two rooms which I would like to upgrade to your best suite—preferably with an amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. I have plenty of cash to cover the cost.”
Don't Hold Back (Love Hurts Book 4) Page 13
