His chest is working up and down, lifting higher than usual.
“Why did this have to happen to you?” My voice manages to break, the tears spilling on his chest. “It was supposed to be me. Not you. I… I just want you to know that I’m sorry. About everything. About the past. About… the baby. About all of it. I’m so, so sorry.”
I don’t know why I expect him to respond. I watch his face, study it for some kind of change, some sort of reaction, but there is nothing. No sound from him. Just forced breaths.
A beeping machine.
I drop my forehead on his chest, bringing my hand down to entwine our fingers. His hands feel so cold… like he’s already dead but I know he’s still there. He has to be. I need him to be.
I cry for a while, hearing the clock ticking on the wall behind me, the minutes passing and the night shifting into day. Not once do I move. I really don’t think I can pull away.
I turn my head, eyes swollen and damp, and look out of the window, watching the horizon, the sun about to make its arrival.
The sky is filled with splashes of pink and orange and yellow. The clouds are stretched, parting for the sun to make a breakthrough.
“Look, Max,” I breathe. “It’s so beautiful.” I smile, gripping his hand tighter, a warm feeling settling in my chest. “You know what this reminds me of? Remember that wild Kings of Leon concert? I wanted to go so badly and you got me tickets. Remember? I was so damn excited the night before that I couldn’t sleep, so I stared out of the window the entire time while you slept. And I watched the sun rise and it was the most beautiful sunrise I’d ever witnessed.” I pause. “But I take that back now because this… this right here. In Paris. With you. It’s more than beautiful. It’s spectacular. It can’t be beaten.” I laugh as I bury the side of my face into his chest. “Too bad we had to leave the concert early. I was dog-tired,” I giggle. “I was so tired and you were laughing so hard at me. I felt like such a loser that day, missing one of the greatest concerts ever. Should’ve recorded it, huh?”
I lift my head to look up at him.
His chest still rises and sinks, his body motionless.
“You know what else? I love the locket. You totally tricked me! I thought it was really a keepsake for yourself.” I laugh wholeheartedly.
But then my eyes prick and the silence deafens me. I finally decide to sit up, releasing his hand and pulling the blanket on top of him to keep him warm. I’m not sure if he feels that warmth, but his body is cold.
As I remain by his side, the door swings open and Eugene walks in with a cup of coffee in hand. When he spots me, he looks very surprised.
“Oh, Shannon,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”
I swipe my eyes, forcing a smile. “I’m… uh... I’m not supposed to be here. I snuck out.”
“Typical Shannon,” he jokes, placing his cup down and folding his arms. His smile fades, and his face becomes tight. His eyes swing over to Max, and I see tears forming at the brink of them as he says, “Can’t believe I’m about to lose him too.”
And there they are. The words I don’t want to hear. He’s going to do it. He’s going to pull the plug.
I stand from the bed, walking towards him. “You don’t think he has a chance?” I ask and I can feel my bottom lip trembling.
Damn it. Stop crying, Shannon. No more tears right now. Please!
Eugene sighs, walking towards me and capping my shoulders. He then turns me around, and says, “Shannon, look at him and tell me what you see.”
I watch Max, how his chest elevates while the rest of his body remains perfectly still. I shut my eyes. I can’t bear it. I can’t think about it.
“If you do this… I’ll never get to see him again.”
“I have to do this. It’s what he would want. Max wouldn’t want to be a vegetable.”
He’s right, but I argue anyway. “Yes, that’s true, but who knows?” I shrug, forcing a wary smile. “Maybe he’ll come out of it one day and slowly build himself back up again.”
Eugene shakes his head, and his eyes start to water again. The sunlight makes the tears sparkle, and when he finally makes a move, he rubs his head, focusing on me.
“You know what conclusion I’ve come to terms with?”
“What?” I ask, defeated.
“I think Max was your sacrifice.”
Huh? “What do you mean?”
“Month after month, all he could talk about was how he wished he could help—how he wished he could donate his lung and save your life. He even said he’d die for you, and you know what? I believed him. When Max makes a decision, he runs with it. When he has his mind set on something, he sticks it out until the end.
“Now, I know it may not seem okay to you right now and I know it hurts, but if that crash hadn’t happened, you would be gone and Max would have spiraled and he probably wouldn’t have found his way back out. I hate that it was him and I hate that it was so soon, but this,” he smiles, “this is what he would have wanted… and I think you already know that. In a way, I think God is saying that you are stronger than he is, emotionally.
“You may not be able to handle what has happened to him right now, but you will later on. It will still hurt—burn every time you think about it, but you will be okay. As for Max? Well, let’s just say if he would have lost you, he never would have been the same afterwards. He wouldn’t have known how to cope.”
Eugene’s words hit me like a tidal wave.
Sorrow floods every single part of my frail body. It takes over, but I nod, keeping my head up and remaining strong. I turn to look at Max again, stepping towards him, running my hand across his cheek.
Eugene is right, but I hate that I’m losing someone else.
I hate that it’s Max.
I hate that my life is so fucked up.
I hate that I can’t ever have complete happiness.
It seems my life comes with a big price tag over it. If I don’t bargain, I don’t survive.
“I know,” I whisper.
Eugene caps my shoulder. “I’ll give you a minute. Take all the time you need.”
But I know what he’s really saying. He’s telling me without actually telling me that once I leave this room, he’s going to have them pull the plug.
Max is going to be gone for good, and the next time I see him will probably be when his body is in a casket.
Eugene is out of the door before I know it, and as soon as he is, I slide up to Max’s side, draping my arm across his middle and holding him so close to me I feel we are one. There is barely a heartbeat. It’s faint.
Distant.
He can’t talk to me, but I shut my eyes and weep, allowing former memories to sink in and speak for him.
I laugh at some of them and then I cry with some.
I remember it all, from the very first day we met in Capri. I remember our first kiss.
I remember the first time we made love.
I remember the first time we argued.
I remember it all, and I thank God for all of it.
Each beautiful, sweet moment.
Each heartbreaking, damaging minute.
Each second.
Each breath.
Everything.
I fall asleep at Max’s side, and for the first time since hearing the news, I feel okay.
I dream of him and those dimples, his silly ways. I’m laughing with him, and I can’t forget to mention that John and Sonny are there, laughing with us.
We are all okay.
We are all happy.
There is no hostility or sickness.
It is perfect.
And then I realize something…
Every time I close my eyes, I will see Maximilian Grant. Every time I see club Capri, drink pink moscato, and dance, I will think of him.
Maximilian Grant will never be forgotten.
My memories of him will forever be cherished.
They will be protected, and they will rest in peace wi
th me even when it’s my time to go.
When I wake up, it’s three in the afternoon.
I kiss Max on the forehead. My tears start up again. They are flowing, but they are much softer now.
I guess it’s time. I could stay here forever, never leave his side, but I have to be strong. He would want me to be. He would want me to live my life for him.
He’d want me as happy as possible, and the least I can do is give him that.
“Thank you, Max. For everything. For putting up with my craziness. For loving me despite all of my flaws. For respecting my wishes. For being a complete goofball with me when I most needed it.” A sob and a giggle escapes me at once.
“I need you to rest good now, okay?” I stroke his forehead with the pad of my thumb, and then I bend down, kissing the apple of his cheek, my hand clinging to the side of his face. “I will always love you,” I whisper. “Forever. To infinity. I promise.”
Epilogue
Twenty Months Later
I’ve dreamed of traveling the world so many times before, but I never thought I’d actually be able to go anywhere after being diagnosed.
For the past nineteen months I have been checked for OP, but on this twentieth month, I don’t have to go back until every three months.
I have never felt more blessed.
It has been tough to deal with my losses, but I have moved forward. I am feeling much better, and now that things are picking up with me and John, Sonny has gotten married, and my life will now prosper, well, I have finally come to terms with this.
This, as in living.
Living for my husband and my sister.
Living because I can now breathe clearly.
See, I am happy today. I have never felt better, actually.
Why? Because me, John, Sonny, and Danny are in Dubai.
Fucking Dubai!
We are here because John was given a second chance with the competition he had in Vegas. All the chefs, surprisingly, wanted to do a rematch for him after they heard about why he’d suddenly fled the competition.
Let’s just say John is highly respected, and after the popular chefs, along with Sonny and me, ran a petition, the organizers agreed to start again from scratch.
It was great. Really great. The thing is, John actually had a clear head… and I was able to go! No, the dry, hot air didn’t matter. Not even my lungs mattered. They were perfectly fine. Healthy in everyway.
I sat in the front row and cheered my adorable husband on, achieving a few warm smiles my way whenever he happened to hear me, which happened to be a lot.
John came in second place in Vegas. I was so damn proud of him I almost cried. The chef that came in first place was a Japanese professional with three chain restaurants. He’s a huge deal, so for John to come next to him was amazing.
It was such a close call that dozens of reps came to John, offering him so many golden opportunities to better his career, to travel the world, to create new dishes in all the right places.
And of course we took it.
We still have a nice home. We had to move from Charlotte to Miami, Florida, when he opened up his very own restaurant. It wasn’t a bad move. Like I said before, I love a hot summer day.
I never thought I’d leave my hometown, but I did and it was probably one of the greatest decisions I’ve ever made.
Sonny loves it in Miami. The beach is her thing and she visits often, so much that Danny is probably starting to think she’d rather be there than in Virginia with him.
So… this is why we are in Dubai.
And it is so beautiful that I don’t know whether to stare at the turquoise water all day or explore every desert, street, corner, and alley of this beautiful city.
I’m sitting on the edge of the king-size hotel bed. The room is gorgeous, full of the warmest colors. Browns, burgundies, beige, and accents of gold.
I put my dangly gold earrings in one by one, staring absently at the shimmering water ahead. John is freshening up in the bathroom, Sonny and Danny in their rooms.
When I’m done placing my earrings, I stand and walk towards the window, and as I stare out at the ocean water, how it shimmers and the waves clash, I can’t help but think of Max.
Max and I never went to a beach—well, we tried, but due to the circumstances it didn’t work out.
There is a lot we left unsaid. A lot I wish I could go back and change, but when I think about it all, I am at peace with it.
Max and I were complicated from the start, our back and forth and wishy-washiness some sort of childish, crush-game we cherished. I actually smile when I think back to the time he saved me from losing my job.
I loved that job, and he knew it, so he helped me. I would have been out of luck, on my ass, searching for weeks until I found at least three jobs that could amount to the money I made while bartending at Capri.
I wondered sometimes what his last words would have been to me. After Eugene had the doctors pull the plug, I always wondered.
But then, about two weeks after his death, we’d finally returned home. I was nicely healed and as I settled in, John said I had a letter in the mail.
It was mailed from Paris with a stamp just a few days before I passed out. It was stamped with a picture of the Eiffel Tower, and on it was Max’s handwriting. His name wasn’t on the front. He probably did that on purpose. He knew I’d know his handwriting.
It was from him to me. Some would consider it only words, but it was another gift to me, and each word sticks in my brain like Gorilla Glue, never to be forgotten.
I’m guessing this was something he wanted to give me before he made the final decision to move to Paris.
The words were beautiful, and I’m surprised Max came up with them. I wonder how long it took him to create. It had to have been an entire night. I wonder sometimes if it was the same night he sang to me in Paris.
The note said:
Shakes,
So, I was watching this sappy-ass movie about a chick who is heartbroken and some other guy cares deeply for her but she doesn’t know it. He wrote her this poem and she really appreciated it. I thought it was kinda cool how he won her over with that—not that I’m trying to win you over or anything.
I know you are a words-speak-louder-than-action-sometimes kinda girl, so I thought I’d give it a shot too.
Maybe it will warm your heart or something—that thing you always used to say about how you feel. It’s not a poem or anything but, anyway, I hope you like it.
People come and go.
Sometimes they leave us sooner than we’d like them to.
They may be gone, and yes, it will hurt at first, but the memories will never fade.
They will be there when you need them most.
During the darkest of hours, in the sanctity of time.
That’s what we as people should hold onto; the joy we shared. The life we created. The countless memories.
Because those memories can be powerful, and they can last infinitely.
You might think it’s kinda shitty, but it took me HOURS to come up with so you better enjoy the hell out of every word.
Love you, Shakes!
Forever. To infinity.
I mean it.
Max
Thinking about it brings tears to my eyes, and when I hear the door swing open behind me, I rapidly pull myself together, swiping them away and taking a minor step back. I don’t pull my gaze away from the view, though.
The sun is setting, and it’s gorgeous.
“Babe?” John’s voice fills the room and I blink quickly.
“Yeah?”
“Has Sonny called to let you know she’s ready yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Oh. Okay then.” He’s quiet for a moment, but I can feel his gaze on me, heavy and probably full of concern. His footsteps are quiet as they come towards me, and when he’s close I can almost feel him breathing, his hand running down my arm.
I grab hold of the back of his hand, entwini
ng our fingers and resting them on my belly.
“What’s bothering you?” he murmurs in my ear. “Is it the baby? Kicking in the wrong place?”
“No,” I breathe, breaking into a grin. “Not at all. She’s fine.” I turn to face him, and when he sees my damp eyes, his sadden
“Tell me what it is,” he pleads.
“I was just thinking that if… well, I know you get really tired of me bringing him up,” I force a laugh, dropping my gaze to his black tie. “But, I just think Max would have really loved this place.”
John smiles, his head tilting, and then he wraps me in his arms, sighing in my hair. It’s not as easy as it used to be to hug him. This six-month belly of mine stands in the way.
“I don’t get tired of you talking about him, babe,” he says. He releases me, and when we’re face to face again, he plants a soft, warm kiss on my forehead.
Spinning me around, John blows a breath, holding onto my belly. I can feel the power of his smile, and I smile because this is perfect.
“I know he’s very happy for you right now. He was a good guy, and I see that, Shannon. Just do me a favor and never regret what you had with him. Don’t think you can’t talk about him with me because you can. I’m here for you, and I know how much he meant to you.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” I ask quietly.
“Not at all.”
“But that day… when I snuck out of the hospital room to see him and spent almost twelve hours in there. You weren’t upset about that?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I… didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help you cope and I’ve never felt so useless. I felt like if I’d shown up at his room, you wouldn’t have appreciated me interrupting, but then again I felt like if I didn’t show up, you would be upset because there was no one to cope with, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“But I stayed, even when I saw that empty bed, because I knew you needed that time. I knew going to him was something I couldn’t keep you away from. I knew getting your final words in was personal, and we all need that. After what I’ve been through, I know, baby. I know how necessary it is for that to happen.”
Infinity: Based on a True Story Page 25
