Hold My Hand
Page 22
Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I was scared of so many things. I was scared of the pain. Scared of being alone. Of dying alone. And what I was scared of the most was what it would all do to you. I was scared of leaving you behind, causing you pain, disappointing you.” Here a single tear escaped and slid slowly down her cheek.
“I needed you in my life, babe. I needed you, and you were there for me, every step of the way. And now I’m gone and can’t be there for you anymore the way that I want to be. But I’m also not scared that you won’t make it, because I know you will. You’re the strongest person I know. The bravest and most beautiful and most kind-hearted person I’ve ever met. And you will get through this, honey. Yes, you will. And I’ll always be with you. I promise you.” More tears joined the first. “I’ll be more than just a little tattoo on your pinky or a ring on your finger. I’ll be more than just a picture on your wall. I’ll be everywhere around you. And there might be a point in time when you don’t need me anymore. A point in time when you let somebody else love you—that lucky bitch!” Her attempt at a laugh was weak, and she coughed harshly.
“There’s going to be a point in time when you have kids, and we both know you’ll be a great mom. It’ll be a point in time when you’ll be truly happy. But no matter when that time comes, babe, no matter how often you feel lost along the way, I want you to remember that I love you more than anything. If you can, let that be your strength. Hold on to the thought that I’m somewhere out there, I don’t know where, and I’ll watch over you.”
She dried her eyes with a tissue. “And if you need to cry or vent or talk, then talk to me, and I will listen. I promise you I will listen, okay? You see this?” She held up the damp tissue and smiled sadly. “I swore to myself that I wouldn’t cry. That I’d make it a little easier for you. But I guess I failed. Please, Bethany, don’t be mad at me. But last night, when we let go of that floating lantern, you know what I wrote on the paper? I wrote, ‘Please, let me die happily.’ And now that you’re watching this, that’s exactly what happened.”
Bethany gave a cry of anguish, but Savy’s words carried on. “Lory said it was a matter of days before things would have become even worse. I didn’t want to leave this world connected to all those machines, not able to speak or tell you how much I love you, how much I’ll miss you. But now I get to do all that. And I get to fall asleep next to the most important, most perfect person in my life, the woman who made me truly happy.”
Her smile lit up her face. “Please be brave, Bethany. Do it for us. I know you can. I’ve always believed in you. And please tell Joan and Lory and my family that I love them. I couldn’t have done it without all of you. Take good care of Tigger and our bucket book. Maybe you can finish the last check box without me one day? Maybe you’ll think of me when you visit Machu Picchu?”
The sadness was back on her face. “I love you, Bethany. Never forget. I’ll always be with you.”
Savannah smiled and blew a soft little kiss into the camera, and the video finished.
Bethany dropped the phone. She looked left. Looked right. Her face was wet, and her head was spinning.
Not knowing what to do, she put on her bathrobe again, then stepped outside the apartment, not wearing any shoes.
Mrs. McPherson was cleaning the hallway when their eyes met. She could see the old lady didn’t need to ask what had happened. Her usually strong and cold features immediately turned soft, and she dropped her broom.
“C’mere, girl. Oh no… Oh, come here, sweetheart.” And she hugged her and let her sob out loud. “It doesn’t feel like it right now, but it’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay. I promise. Shush.”
Looking back, Bethany had never expected her old grumpy neighbor, of all people, to be the one comforting her in this moment. She had pictured the moment a million times. Where it would happen. How and when. What she would do. What she would say.
She had never pictured it like this.
She had known it was going to happen, and she understood; it was the way Savannah had wanted it. Her last day on earth had been a happy one, and her last night had been spent next to the woman she loved. But it didn’t matter how much time she’d had to prepare for this, it made no difference. No one could have prepared Bethany for the pain she felt or for the terrible emptiness that suddenly filled her heart.
It was a feeling so powerful it could break her within seconds.
But she would get through this. She had promised Savannah that.
She’d get through this for her.
For them.
Savannah Cortez died on July 5, 2015.
Her ashes were spread on Machu Picchu.
Check.
About AC Oswald
AC Oswald grew up in a small town in Germany and has always loved creating her own fantasy worlds. Now she is in her mid-twenties but still a total child at heart.
She makes a living as a German and English teacher who also happens to work as an editor in a small publishing house. When she’s not teaching or editing, she watches Netflix with her girlfriend or writes her own stories.
Since she’s a big Disney nerd, her favorite place on earth is Disneyland Paris. If she could, she’d grab her family, her laptop, and her pug and move there permanently.
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Hold My Hand
© 2017 by AC Oswald
ISBN (mobi): 978-3-95533-687-5
ISBN (epub): 978-3-95533-688-2
Also available as paperback.
Published by Ylva Publishing, legal entity of Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
Owner: Astrid Ohletz
Am Kirschgarten 2
65830 Kriftel
Germany
www.ylva-publishing.com
First edition: 2017
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Credits
Edited by Gill McKnight & Michelle Aguilar
Proofread by Joanie Bassler
Cover Design & Print Layout by Streetlight Graphics