by Leddy Harper
The traffic flowed easily. I managed to make it to the directed exit an hour earlier than expected. Drea had asked me to call her at that point, so I grabbed my phone from the console and dialed her number. She stayed on the line as I followed her directions, and with a few simple turns left to go, she told me she’d wait out front and then disconnected the call.
My thoughts twisted in confusion as I pulled into the parking lot of the multi-level brown building. I thought about calling Drea, wondering if I’d taken a wrong turn somewhere, but as I slowed to a stop near the entrance of the building, I caught sight of her on the sidewalk. My gut twisted and bile began to burn my chest and threatened to spill out. I had no idea why she had me meet her here, but I couldn’t waste time contemplating it. I quickly found a parking space and then began to make my way to her.
Each step brought me closer.
Every heavy thud of my shoes on the pavement echoed the pounding in my chest.
This was it.
The slight breeze beneath the awning blew brown strands of hair across her face as I closed the distance between us. Her dark-blue gaze held mine before an uneasy smile graced her lips. It was uncomfortable and awkward to say the least, not knowing if I should hug her or just stand there. But she eased the apprehension by wrapping her arms around my neck, offering comfort I wasn’t aware she could give.
Once she released me, I took a step back to appreciate her. I smiled and tugged on the lapel of the white lab coat she wore over dress clothes. “You’re a doctor now? Is medical school like a six-month program here or something?”
Her grin widened as she batted my hand away. “I’m an ultrasound tech. I get to look at tiny babies before they’re born.” Pride radiated from her flushed cheeks and luminous eyes. I’d known Drea for years—had lived with her for almost as long—yet I’d never seen her show so much dignity and satisfaction before.
“Really?” I hadn’t meant to sound so shocked, but I was. I hadn’t recalled her being so determined when we were all in school. I’d always seen her as the happy-go-lucky one who enjoyed going out more than staying in with a book in her face.
She shook her head and slapped my chest. “Yes. I graduated the same time you did.”
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known this. I knew she’d finished school, but honestly, I had no idea with what degree. She’d changed it so many times I eventually stopped paying attention. On top of that, she didn’t go to her graduation, although I couldn’t for the life of me remember why. It just proved how wrapped up in my own little world I’d been toward the end of law school, and it suddenly made me regret not noticing those around me more.
“Well, the coat suits you.”
Her pink cheeks darkened right before she dropped her gaze to the sidewalk. “We should probably go ahead and get this over with. Layne’s more than likely going to be very upset seeing you, and I’d rather not prolong this any more than we already have.”
When Drea turned around to head back inside, I grabbed her by the arm and made her face me. My throat tightened by the emotion in her eyes when they met mine. They weren’t filled with shock or surprise by my sudden grip on her. Instead, they deepened with…remorse, maybe pain. I couldn’t tell. But it was enough to inflict a physical response in me.
“Why are we here?”
Her gaze flickered around me. “Layne is here.”
My eyebrows peaked while waiting for more.
“She’s working, Creed.”
I glanced up at the glass doors. They each had a circular logo with three figures holding hands. “She works here? But I thought she worked at Kellerman’s. She came all the way out here for that job. Why is she here? And what is she doing here?”
“Plans changed.” Her shoulders lifted and then fell harshly, depicting nonchalance, yet her expression was anything but. The slight squinting of her eyes showed sorrow while the curl of her upper lip offered a sense of deep compassion. I wanted to question it, but she turned around and led me through the front doors.
I followed closely behind her, around the lobby, and to the elevator banks encased in glass. People bustled and talked around us, yet as we waited, a cocoon of humming silence enveloped us. I had so many questions, so many things I hadn’t thought to ask over the last four days, but I couldn’t figure out which one to ask first.
Finally, as the lights atop the doors counted down, I spoke up, voicing my first thought. “I don’t understand why Layne is working here. She used to talk all the time about working for herself someday. And it doesn’t make any sense why she would leave everything a year ago, and then not have the same job—or one better.”
Her focus remained on the reflective doors in front of us as she answered over her shoulder. “What she’s doing now happens to be more important than what she moved out here for. And as far as being her own boss, she has an entire team working for her. She calls the shots now.” Her words should’ve been filled with pride, yet they weren’t. They were almost ominous, and I wished the doors weren’t etched so I could’ve seen her face as she spoke instead of only relying on her tone.
The chime rang out and the doors opened, cutting off my next question. And as we entered the cart with four other people, I decided to keep my comments to myself, allowing the vibration of the elevator to consume the air as it took us to Layne’s floor. The eerie stillness around me filled my ears with a piercing ring, reminding me of an internal alarm. My hands began to tremble at my side, my palms growing clammy the higher we went. I knew it was nothing but nerves, possibly a little excitement, but I couldn’t seem to ignore it.
The elevator slowly came to a stop and then the doors opened, allowing the two of us to step off before taking the others to another floor. My focus was all over the place, not settling on one thing in particular. With each step closer to Layne, my chest ached. It clenched tighter the farther we made it through the corridors. Drea politely waved and smiled at the people milling about on the floor. It was easy to see how much she was adored. Any question I’d had when stepping into the elevator had been drowned out by the rush of blood in my ears and the pounding against my chest from the inside.
When we made it to the end of the hall, Drea leaned against the last door on the right. It was solid wood—no name marker, only a silver plate with a number. I couldn’t think straight, knowing my opposite was on the other side. My other half. The light to my dark. The north to my south. Just knowing how close she was stole the oxygen around me. It sucked me dry like a vacuum and left me with stale air to breathe.
Drea slowly pushed the door and then held it open for me. I slid next to her but remained in the doorway, afraid to go in too far once I noticed where we were. There was a computer monitor on a tall stand to the left, and then to the right, a door that had been left slightly ajar. No light came through the crack, so I assumed Layne wasn’t in there. But as my focus drifted around the bright, white room, I didn’t see her, so I took a step back and focused on Drea.
We stood with maybe six inches between us. Her chest rose and fell evenly, slow and deep. When my gaze met hers, I noticed the layer of glass reflecting the light through the one window in the room. Her brows knitted in the center, lifting slightly as she regarded me without a sound.
One tear fell.
And then my heart plummeted to my feet.
I swallowed harshly, praying I’d misunderstood it all. Begging for this to be a dream—a nightmare. Without taking a step or turning away from Drea, I glanced to my left, peering into the room over my shoulder. My focus fell on the one thing I’d passed over the first time I observed the space while looking for Layne. The woman in the bed hooked up to monitors.
Her hair was dark and her skin ghostly white.
Aside from the black yin and yang symbol on her wrist.
My nostrils burned with the intensity of an inferno. My throat tightened, constricted, choked me from the inside out. With my sights set firmly on Layne, the outer rim of my vision darkened, threatening to cl
ose in until it left me blind. Blind from the excruciating affliction in my chest. Blind from the sudden hysteria caused by finding my other half unconscious in a hospital bed.
Blind from the terror of it all.
My fists clenched at my sides. An unexpected rage rolled through me over the injustice in Layne’s life. Without turning back to Drea, I left out of the room, unable to hold it all in another moment longer.
The door clicked closed behind me, and I let it all out.
My hands gripped fistfuls of hair as I dropped my chin to my chest. My eyes stung and watered, but the indignation managed to keep the tears from falling. A rumbling growl reverberated through my chest walls and echoed in the empty space around us.
Suddenly, a warm hand rested against my arched spine. It propelled me forward, forcing everything out at once. I dropped my arms and whipped around, coming face to face with blinding tears and trembling lips. I cruelly shrugged her hand away, which had moved to my forearm. My gaze met hers, and I knew from the tension in my brow how much of my angered expression she witnessed.
“Why?” My voice came out sharp and broken, traveling through the halls at lightning speed with the force of my battle cry. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why would you ambush me like this? Why would you let me waste time when I could’ve been here?”
Drea’s tears slipped out faster with each question I billowed out. She didn’t even bother to wipe them away, and the only time she broke eye contact with me was to glance down the hall, probably to make sure we hadn’t gathered a crowd. When she gave me her attention again, a gut-wrenching hiccup erupted from her.
“You said she was working.” My body began to go limp, the fury morphing into anguish, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to stand there.
“She is working, Creed. She’s fighting the toughest battle of her life. What she’s doing in there…” Her face scrunched up with immeasurable grief. “It’s the most important thing she’s ever done. This is her job now—fighting.”
I stumbled back until I found myself plastered against the wall behind me. The hollow thud reverberated in my ears and added an echo to the desolation residing in the center of my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She made me swear not to.”
“And you listened to her?” My voice rose again as I directed my outrage on her.
Drea took a step closer, timidly reaching for me. “She’s my sister, Creed. What was I supposed to do? She begged me. Made me promise. I gave her my word I’d follow her wishes. It was bad enough I brought you here, but I figured you were already on your way. Had I said something when we talked on the phone, you would’ve driven like a maniac to get here sooner. I didn’t want to take that chance.”
“When…when did this happen?”
A hopeless sigh slipped out while she shook her head. Her eyes softened with deeply rooted pain. “She found out about it in February.”
The impact of her words slammed into me, knocking the wind out of me. I stared at her with my jaw unhinged as fresh tears set the backs of my eyes on fire. I hoped—no, prayed—I’d heard her wrong. My spine straightened and I frantically filled my lungs with air before taking one step toward her. “That was five months ago. Five, Drea! Why isn’t she better? Why?” I hadn’t realized I’d gripped her by the shoulders until I found myself shaking her, screaming every word that passed my lips. I immediately released her and fell back against the wall.
“It was bad, Creed,” she whispered and sobbed at once.
I lifted my gaze and took in her face, the cloud of animosity waning enough for me to acknowledge how hard this was for her. “How bad?” I didn’t want the truth. I was hesitant to hear her answer, but I needed it all the same. I couldn’t pretend. Couldn’t continue believing Layne was happy and healthy without me after finding her attached to tubes and monitors. As much as the reality petrified me, I needed it.
“It had spread to her colon and the lining of her stomach. She was in so much pain. It was aggressive, so the doctors did everything they could. She had multiple surgeries to try to remove it, especially from her colon, but they couldn’t.”
“Why didn’t she come back? Her real doctors would’ve known what to do.”
“It’s not that simple, Creed. Her doctors here were the ones who found it. And it was too aggressive to afford her the time to go home and have them formulate a plan. But the truth is they would’ve done the same thing.”
My mind raced, searching for answers as if they should’ve been clear. However, all I came up with were more questions, more confusion, until my head practically spun. “So why isn’t she any better? That was five months ago.”
Drea dropped her head and wiped at her cheek with tremoring fingers. “They started her on chemo and radiation as soon as they could. It was awful—so much worse than the last time. Her body had a horrible reaction to it and they had to stop after a few treatments because her cell counts were way below normal. The cancer just wasn’t responding to it.”
“So they just gave up?” How we didn’t have a flock of people around us after my outburst, I’ll never know. I couldn’t contain my outrage. It poured out of me in waves powerful enough to annihilate anything within fifty feet of me.
Drea glanced up the hall again; however, I never took my eyes off her. She stepped closer and placed her hands flat on my heaving chest, locking her tear-filled gaze with mine. It was enough to quiet the storm, although it didn’t relieve the building pressure inside me.
“They didn’t give up. They still haven’t given up—neither has Layne. She’s been fighting like hell, Creed. They ran more tests, more scans, hoping to see that the treatment had at least done something. That’s when they found it’d spread to her liver and lymph node system.”
“No…” I chanted, over and over again. My head fell forward, limp between my sagging shoulders as I cried, letting it all out. Hopelessness consumed me, covered me in a shroud of darkness until nothing remained inside.
Drea moved to stand directly in front of me and gently cradled my face in her hands. She didn’t force me to look at her, only offered me a sense of support, an ounce of compassion. “She hasn’t given up, Creed.”
I pulled in a deep breath until my lungs burned, and then I shook my head and wiped away the visible torment falling from my eyes. With every bit of strength I could muster, I pulled my shoulders back and stepped around Drea. The wooden door stood in front of me. The barrier between me and Layne. The heavy hurdle keeping me on this side. I knew once I pushed past it, once I made it to the other side, I’d never be the same again. The pain burning within me would be nothing once I made it to her. The agony threatening to tear me open would decimate me with one touch of her skin, one look in her eyes, one smell of her scent.
I was on the verge of crumbling.
Falling apart.
The only thing keeping me together was the one thing separating us.
On this side of the door, I stood a condemned building. Cracked and broken, although still intact. I knew once I passed the threshold, I’d go from condemned to demolished. Worthless. Rubble and ash. The last shred of strength I held onto would be lost, along with my heart and soul. Along with my reason to breathe.
I’d be irrevocably broken. Never to be whole again.
I closed my eyes and placed my hand on the cold metal of the door handle. A chill ran through me and turned the blood in my veins to ice. I squeezed my eyes tighter, took another breath, and then pushed the heavy door open. I couldn’t bring myself to lift my head or open my eyes until I made it inside. Until the soft click of the door sounded behind me.
The sterile room penetrated my nose and gave my eyes another reason to burn as I stared at the floor. It suffocated me, blinded me, and left my insides shaking so hard I wondered how my body had remained so still.
A soft rustle forced my head up and I focused on the bed in front of me. Glistening blue eyes met mine, and before I knew it, I stood next to her. I didn’t know h
ow I’d gotten there, couldn’t recall my feet moving. They were heavy as if I had cement blocks around them, yet somehow, they’d carried me across the room in a split second.
I took in her face and memorized every feature, comparing them to how they were the last time I’d seen her. Other than having lost weight, she looked the same. It should’ve given me peace, but the tears slipping past the corners of her eyes, falling to her pillow, obliterated any sense of repose I could’ve had. My hand immediately took hers at the same time I moved to sit on the edge of her bed. My fingers deftly wiped away the evidence of her pain, and then lingered on the warmth of her cheek.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Layne?” I whispered, unable to speak any louder.
She shook her head, her emotions attacking her all at once. Her eyes squeezed tightly closed, her lips split apart and stretched, morphing her features into a mask of complete torment. She gasped for breath, and all I could do was run my fingers through her hair in an attempt to calm her.
“You weren’t supposed to find out,” she cried, her words thick with tears.
I lowered my face and brought my forehead to hers like I’d done so many times in the past. “Why?” My question choked me, my voice giving way before the entire syllable could be completed. I fought to remain strong, yet I found myself failing miserably. She didn’t need me to break down. She needed me to be the rock I’d always been for her, but my willpower failed me, and I, too, was weak. The talons of dread had dug into me, impaled my armor, pierced my heart, and left me powerless.
She clutched my shirt as she cried out each word. “I couldn’t risk you living the rest of your life with the pain of losing me. You were angry, and it’s easier to carry on with life being mad at someone than it is filled with the grief over their loss. I needed you to stay resentful. I needed you to think I left you and never came back. You were never supposed to know.”
I pulled away, just enough to look at her. It took her a moment, but her compressed features finally relaxed enough to allow her to open her eyes and stare back at me. I ran my fingertip along her jaw and fought like hell to contain my emotions long enough to finish this conversation.
