by Hotcheri
“Simple.” Dad grinned at me, the smile surprisingly predator-like. “I want you to dump her.”
“No sale.” I shook my head. Why did he always have to kill my buzz? “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. Why would I dump her? Because you think it’s a good idea? Not gonna happen.”
Dad groaned, massaging his temples. “Luke, you’re hardly equipped to be in a relationship at this time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the input, Dr. Phil.”
“Really,” dad pressed. “You should be focusing on your illness right now, instead of pouring all of your energy into building a new relationship.”
Letting out a bark of incredulous laughter, I stared at dad. Say what now? “You want me to be all the time thinking about the aneurysm? Really? That’s your excuse, why you want me to dump CiCi? So that I can sit in a puddle of self-pity and cry about how my life sucks coz I have an as yet inoperable growth growing in my head? No thanks.” I shot dad a pitying look. He didn’t get it. “The reason I’m with CiCi is coz she makes me forget. Even if it’s just for a little while. And God knows I need that.” I stood up again, staring down at dad. “Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
“I’ll excuse you on the grounds that you think of it,” dad said, almost pleading with me.
Turning to face him, my hand on the door knob, I said truthfully, “I probably won’t.”
Next day, Astor penthouse.
When school was out the next day, CiCi came over for the afternoon and, together with Faith’s help (she’s pretty creative with frosting) we managed to bake a batch of eatable cupcakes. Unfortunately, we also managed to eat all the cupcakes ourselves. That gave Faith an enviable sugar high, which didn’t make her nanny very happy. When we finally managed to corner Faith in the parlour after an extensive game of ‘Hide and Seek’, she was whisked away for a nap and CiCi went home.
And guess who the hell materialized from the shadows?
Yup, Mr. Nosy himself. Dad.
Okay, he didn’t exactly materialize from the shadows, he’s not a vampire. But you get what I mean. He had obviously been skulking around, watching me and CiCi as we chased after Faith.
“Luke, I have to apologise,” he announced formally, loosening his tie.
I stared wordlessly at him, sure that between us, we were going crazy. What the hell? Scratching my head, I said, “Apologise for what?”
“I thought you were joking. I really thought you were pretending to date Miss Sawyer to spite me.” He paused, looking uncharacteristically subdued as he looked seriously into my eyes. “But I see how much you care for her. And I can tell she cares for you.”
A huge sigh of relief escaped me. He understood! He finally got it! CiCi and I made each other happy, which was the most important thing.
I grinned goofily at dad, probably the first time in years that I’ve actually smiled at him and meant it. But hey, what he had just said meant a lot to me. “Thanks, dad.”
He stared back at me gravely. His eyes looked tired, like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. In a perfectly sombre voice to match the serious expression on his face, he said, “That being said, I have one question for you to answer. If Miss Sawyer cares about you this much, what will happen if you die on the operating table and she’s still in love with you?”
CHAPTER 29
no air.
Luke’s Point of View
I blinked, sure that I hadn’t heard right. There was no possible way dad had just said what I thought he’d said.
“Did you just say-?” I asked slowly, my voice trailing off as he nodded solemnly.
“Yes, Luke.” Dad shot me an exasperated glance, running a hand through his greying hair. “I mean, this had to have crossed your mind at some point!”
What, me dying? Why in the hell would that cross my mind willingly? The only time I had actually thought of that was when I’d gotten started on my list, but now, I just thought of it as a fun activity. You know, something to do to pass the monotony of my life now especially now that I didn’t have to go to school. I mean, I don’t even call it my bucket list anymore!
My mind a whirl, I spluttered, “I don’t- why are you talking about me dying?” I spread out my arms, feeling betrayed by him. And just when I thought we’d come to some sort of agreement. “You’re my dad; you’re not supposed to say things like that!”
Sighing, dad began pacing up and down in front of me, his arms folded across his broad chest. Great. Time for yet another lecture, right on schedule. “Hear me out,” he said, looking serious. “Like you said, I’m your father. Meaning that I have to think about the morbid stuff. I don’t like it any more than you do, but such is life.” He paused for effect, his steely eyes on my face. “Dr. Khan says there’s a chance of you- dying during surgery or post op.” I sucked in a breath as dad continued talking. Of course I knew that, but I definitely didn’t want to think about it. Death was such a scary subject for me. “You know this. You were there when he said it.”
“I was there when you bullied him into saying it,” I retorted.
Dr. Khan was such a diplomat that he would never consider even mentioning the word ‘death’ in my presence, but dad had forced his hand on my last check-up. I had cringed through it all. Dad was a born bully.
Disinterested, dad flapped his hand at me. “Whatever. My point is you know that operations like that are touch and go.” He sighed as I stared at him. Something must have been written on my face (maybe the last shred of respect I had for him shrivelling up) because he said, “Don’t look at me like that! I don’t like it more than you do, but facts are facts. We have to prepare for eventualities. That’s why people prepare their wills and get their affairs into order before they go in for surgery.” He shrugged at me as I stood silently, my ears ringing with his self-righteous speech. He actually thought he was giving me advice? Why not tell me to just give up hope period? “I thought that would surely be one of the things on your bucket list, but I guess not.”
Breathing through my nose in an effort to calm myself, I stared dad down. “No. Writing my will wasn’t on my list.”
Dad chose to ignore the sardonic tone in my voice. “What do you think your precious girlfriend will do if you died on the operating table?” He tilted his head, giving me a questioning look. “It’ll crush her! You’re her first boyfriend, I’m sure?”
I nodded brusquely. “Yeah.”
So what if I was CiCi’s first boyfriend? I really had no idea what he was trying to get at. This had nothing to do with anything!
“Put yourself in her shoes. She has a boyfriend- her first boyfriend- and he has an aneurysm. He’s due to go into surgery any day now. What happens if he doesn’t wake up? How would you feel?”
I kneaded my temples, hating what I was hearing, especially since I knew that when I was alone, I would replay everything dad was saying over and over. “Damn, dad. Don’t. Just- stop.”
Pity in his eyes, dad shook his head. “I can’t. You have to hear this. It may seem like I’m attacking you, but I’m just looking at the bigger picture here. If anything happened to you during surgery, it will scar Miss Sawyer for life. You know that.” He gave me a knowing look. “Do you want that on your conscience?”
“No,” I mumbled. I was seeing a brand new side of dad, and it was freaking me out. I knew that all this just had to be a ploy to get me to dump CiCi and stop showing him up, but the feeling behind it seemed so sincere. He was actually acting like he cared about someone else besides himself!
Cracking his knuckles, dad continued. “Then there’s only one thing for you to do. Break up with her. Be as cold-hearted as possible. That way, if anything goes wrong, it won’t hurt her as much because you already hurt her deeply.” He resumed pacing, getting into his diabolical plan as I gaped at him. He had some nerve... “If, after the operation, you decide that you still want to be with her, all you have to do is tell her you were protecting her.”
“I can’t do that,” I protested. “It�
��s heartless!”
“Sometimes you have to be heartless,” dad intoned in grim tones. “It’s called being a man. It’s a dirty job, but it must be done.”
I stared at him, feeling more tired than ever. Honestly, dealing with dad just sapped all of my energy. “I can’t- I won’t do it,” I said adamantly, beginning to sound like a skipping CD. “It’s not right, dad.”
“You know it’s right. You just don’t want to admit it.” Dad shrugged. “But you’ll think it over and you’ll realise that it’s the only way to go.”
“Nope,” I said over my shoulder as I walked out of the kitchen.
Behind me, dad said “Time is running out!”
***
I shuffled into my bedroom, sat down on my bed, and all of a sudden, depressing thoughts started trickling into my head. And unfortunately, I didn’t have anything better to do than to listen to them.
Dad was, as much as I hated to admit it, right about one thing. If something happened to me during surgery and I didn’t make it, I would be devastated. It was hard for me to think about, because nobody wants to think about their own impending death. We all want to live forever. But if anything did happen to me, it would hurt I desperately, I knew that much. Did I really want that burden on my shoulders?
I shook my head, folding my arms behind my head as I lay on my bed, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling.
No. I loved CiCi; I didn’t want to think about her hurting over something to do with me. Her mindset was already so fragile, what with dealing with Nate and feeling guilty over the death of her niece. I didn’t want to add to that.
Sighing, I faced the bare facts that my dad had been trying to make me face during his impassioned lecture- if I dumped CiCi as callously as possible, she would get over it eventually. It would hurt her considerably less if I dumped her now and something did happen to me later on, right? Damn, I hated myself for trying to justify what I was thinking, but I didn’t have a choice. People got dumped every day and got over it. At least that way, there would be closure for her.
But could I go through with it? Did I even want to go through with it? All I had to go with was what dad had said, and he wasn’t my go-to person for enlightenment on the human psyche. What if he was just saying all that for his own selfish reasons? I wouldn’t put it past him, trying to get CiCi out of my life because he doesn’t think she’s good enough. I don’t mean not good enough for me, because we all know that dad thinks I’m the lowest of the low, but not good enough to be dating an Astor. To a snob like dad, it was all in the name. And poor CiCi didn’t have a ‘reputable’ background or any of the good stuff that makes dad happy. Like money. That’s why he didn’t care when I dated Joanna because although he didn’t like her (not that he likes any of my friends) he approved of the fact that she was from a rich family. He didn’t care that she was shallow, spoilt and catty. Actually, neither did I, because I was just like that too. But now... Now I saw things differently and I liked to think I was a better person for it. And I mostly had CiCi to thank for that. So why would I take dad’s advice and throw her under a bus after all the help she’s been to me? Especially after everything I already put her through? I didn’t deserve it.
I sighed, kneading my head to curb the pounding which was likely due to thinking too much.
But what if something did happen to me? What if, God forbid, I really did die? If I took dad’s advice and dumped her as cold-heartedly as possible, then died, she would hate me for what I did to her. Who would want that on their conscious? Definitely not me.
Does that mean you think something is going to happen to you?
I tried to shut that thought out of my head but it just wouldn’t give. Of course I thought something was gonna happen to me. I stayed up till late, just reading people’s aneurysm stories. Not many people survived. If this had been months ago, when I just found out about the aneurysm, I wouldn’t have even cared. I hadn’t really been in my life then and I didn’t really care about anyone’s feelings like I did right now. I didn’t want to be selfish and use CiCi to comfort me now as I dealt with the aneurysm and not be there for her if I didn’t make it...
Shit. I hated not knowing what to do. Clutching my pillow to my chest, I fell into a troubled sleep.
Next Day
You know that feeling you get when you’ve pumped yourself up to do something you don’t want to do? You talk yourself into it, try to justify your actions and totally ignore that niggling feeling that’s screaming ‘stop it!’ in your head. Then something comes along that completely rocks your world because it means you don’t have to go through with your original plan and you start to regret even thinking about it?
Well, that’s how I started to feel when Doctor Khan called me to make a ‘very important’ appointment a couple of days later. You know, pessimistic yet hopeful. As I sat in the doctor’s office, waiting for him to lift his head from the piles of reports on his desk, my stomach was tied up in knots. What did he want to talk to me about? Was it good or bad? When was he going to say something, dammit?
I was this close to hyperventilating when he finally looked up from the paperwork on his desk, a huge smile on his face.
“Fantastic news, Luke,” he started, just as I was starting to think he was going to go the opposite way and tell me to start writing up my will. “We have discerned that the aneurysm is now large enough to operate on. You will go into surgery a week from today.”
Maybe it was shock from hearing that finally, after months of waiting, I would have a chance to live headache free. Or maybe it was the confusion of trying to figure out what the hell ‘discerned’ meant. Hey, I had just popped two Tylenol 3’s- I was feeling a little doped up! Anyway, I just stared blankly at Doctor Khan for approximately a minute, my eyes hardly focusing on him and my mouth open, before mumbling ,“What?”
I am so glad dad wasn’t anywhere near me.
Luckily for me, patience is Doctor Khan’s middle name. Or it should be, especially after the way he explained everything from the surgery prep to what I would expect after the operation. When I left his office, I was flying high and all the negative thoughts I’d been having for the past couple of days evaporated (mostly thanks to the T3’s).
***
I had planned to meet CiCi at Central Park after school and go watch a movie, but the instant I saw her coming towards me I knew something was wrong. And the fact that I could see that through my drug induced haze meant that I had it bad.
“Hey. What's wrong?” I asked immediately, placing my hands on her shoulders and looking down into her face. My heart hammered as she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand. All the excitement I had felt upon hearing my good news from Dr. Khan evaporated as I stared down into my girlfriend’s sad face.
“Nothing. I’m okay now,” she assured me. Even her voice sounded miserable. I swallowed, squeezing her shoulders anxiously as she avoided my gaze. Shit. Nate better not have touched her again.
“CiCi. What happened? Why were you crying?” I asked persistently, all the while making a mental note to call Enrique as soon as I got home. Although CiCi’s father had told her to contact him if she had any problems, I knew for a fact that CiCi wouldn’t do that. If Nate had resumed beating up on CiCi, I wasn’t just going to be a quiet spectator. Sure, I couldn’t tell Aunt Kelly, but I would definitely let Enrique know. Maybe I was sticking my nose into something that didn’t concern me, but at this point I didn’t care. Looking into CiCi’s eyes and seeing the hurt and pain- that made me not care whether I was meddling or not.
She shook her head, her hair sliding across her face. “It’s nothing. I just- stop looking at me like that.”
Yup, I gave her a straight up ‘yeah right’ look which made her lips twitch slightly. My heart rose at the faint smile on her face. Something had happened, she didn’t want to tell me but I was going to find out one way or another.
“What happened?”
“Can we sit down somewhere, please? I f
eel kinda- woozy.” She blinked as I stared down at her, perplexed. “I still can’t wrap my mind around this.”
Wrapping my arm around her, I led her to the nearest park bench. We sat down and I looked into her beautiful hazel eyes.
“Okay, now are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do I have to wring it out of you?” I asked, squeezing her shoulder as she bit her lip, deep in thought.
Looking up at me, she said, “Remember when I told you that one of the boys at the daycare has a brother with cancer?”
I nodded, vaguely recalling her telling me something like that. “Yeah, I think so.”
She wiped her eyes again as she continued, her voice breaking. “He slipped into a coma last night. His doctor says he doesn’t have too long to- too long to live.” She sniffed. “I went to see him today and his poor little brother- he was reading him a story, Luke. When I came in he said it was Kevin’s favourite story and when he hears it he’ll wake up.”
“Oh, CiCi- I’m so sorry.”
I held CiCi closer, my words of comfort sounding inadequate to my ears. She was clearly very attached to these kids and the prospect of losing Kevin was hurting her. My heart sank all the way down to my sneakers. If CiCi was acting this way over Kevin, how would she react if something happened to me? Not that I was trying to say that I was more important than Kevin, but I was her boyfriend. If this was any indication as to how she would react if I did have complications during surgery, then maybe I had some thinking to do...
Laughing sheepishly, CiCi said “You must think I’m stupid for crying like this.”
