by K. Bromberg
Images of Lexi flash through my head from the pictures I’ve seen in Haddie’s house—the only way I’ll never know her. And I can’t help but acknowledge the fear creeping in that that could be all I’ll have left one day of Haddie.
I’m immediately pissed at myself for even thinking it. Furious that for one moment I thought she’s not going to fight the fight so she can walk the walk afterward. But fuck if I’m not scared, even with liquid courage flowing through my veins like it’s my own blood.
“She has to be.”
Chapter 28
I left Rylee with just a note saying, “I need to think,” after she spent the night with me like old times. Too many bottles of wine, too many trips down memory lane, and so many laughs our ribs ached and cheeks hurt.
And it felt good that Ry was just Ry with me. Not looking out of the corner of her eye to stare at me with that pitying look I hate or to make sure that I wasn’t going to keel over and die.
Hence the reason I’ve kept my diagnosis from everyone.
I’m good with my decision—glad I’ve decided to keep it on the down low to just Rylee and my parents—but hell if my heart’s not hurting right now.
I was doing good. At least I thought I was. I was so busy thinking about surgery next week that I was pushing away all thoughts of Becks. And his parting words to me.
Those words were earth shifting to me, but I’d also noticed his attempts seemed to fade with each day. Hell yes, I’d back off after the rejection time and again if I were him, but at the same time I needed it there. His annoying texts, continuous phone calls, drive-bys past the house when he didn’t know I was home because I’d parked in the garage. It all reassured me. So the fact that the attempts had faded after day five had proved to me that his words were bullshit.
If he didn’t keep trying after five days, he sure as hell wasn’t going to stick around for months of chemotherapy and radiation. The proof’s in the pudding.
It wasn’t until last night that I realized subconsciously I was testing him. Waiting him out. Making him prove the love he had professed to me.
I thought he’d given up, that his words were bullshit, until I got the text last night and the voice mail. And then it just blew my carefully constructed false front to smithereens. I sit in my car remembering it, resting my forehead on my hands overlapped on the steering wheel.
Maybe it was the mass quantities of wine. Maybe it was having Ry sleeping in her old bedroom again. Maybe it was the emotional overload of everything about to happen. Whatever it was, when I read the text, a small thrill went through me, tearing through my resolve, which was already hanging on by a thread.
Huh. Thread. Strings. Can’t get the hell away from ties when it comes to Beckett Daniels.
All the text said was: I’m calling you in two minutes. You don’t have to pick up. But please listen to the voice mail. B.
Something was different to me with his text this time. I’m not sure if it was because of me or because of something in his tone, but it had my fingers itching to answer when my phone started ringing a minute later. Instead I fisted my hands and waited it out until the minute the phone alerted there was a new message.
When I heard his voice, my heart squeezed with ache and loss. “Had … I don’t know if you’re just deleting my messages or actually hearing them, but I want you to hear this one. I want you to listen to my voice, hear the determination in it…. Nothing’s changed. You’re worth the goddamn fight. Gloves are on. I’ll go every damn round with you to prove it. All you’ve got to do is step back in the ring with me. You’ve already knocked me out, but I’m still fighting. Take the chance. Bell’s about to ring.”
I think I listened to it over and over, tears sliding down my face as I wanted to pick up the phone and call him back but was so scared to do it, to invite him in. My gloves are on for a different type of fight, so how can I have the strength to go at it with him too?
I fought my subconscious telling me that I didn’t have to put the gloves on if I just opened the door and let him in. Then I wondered if the slight slur in his speech meant he was just bullshitting me and was drunk and lonely. And after that, I sat in bed contemplating whether he knew … if Colton had told him.
Sleep came in short bouts because every dream was filled with him, or about him, so that I’d wake up longing to hear his voice again, feel his touch, see his smile. I was so exhausted and restless by six that I got up, left Ry a note, and came here to be close to the one person who understands this more than anyone.
It’s so peaceful here, so beautiful, and a tad cold, so I lean back in my seat, which I’ve reclined, and close my eyes for a moment, allowing the serenity of being near her to pull me under.
The noise of the trash truck in the distance pulls me from sleep. I startle awake when I come to, immediately realizing where I am and that the sun is higher in the sky. Next I move my seat back upright, take a sip of water from the bottle in my console, and check my phone, which I’d set to silent as it rested in the console.
I note the missed calls from Rylee and a few from Becks and squeeze my eyes shut, throwing my phone onto the passenger seat. I have to talk to her first. Sort my shit out so that I can figure out where to go from here. That sudden fluttery feeling returns to my chest as I climb out of the car and start walking across the green grass dotted with stone markers.
Guilt mixed with sadness weighs heavy with each step. I haven’t been here since my diagnosis. My head’s been screwed-up enough that I feel guilty that I haven’t been here to tell Lexi that I let her down. That I have cancer now too.
I don’t want her to worry. I know it’s silly because this is just a place when technically her spirit is all around me, so I know she already knows, but at the same time, I feel guilt nonetheless.
I smile softly when I reach her spot beneath the large oak tree, the branches giving her special spot shade and prolonging the life of flowers here from the harsh California sun. “Hey, sis,” I tell her as I lower myself to the ground, running my finger over the engraving of her name, before leaning my back against the tombstone like I used to sit for hours those first few months after she died.
I swear I hear her voice, can feel her when I’m here. And I know it’s all in my head, but I don’t care. It’s all I have left, and so it’s enough for me. At least I tell myself it is.
I talk to her for a bit, filling her in on miscellaneous things, telling her little things about Maddie that a mom would want to know, stalling telling her about the diagnosis. I inform her that the Scandalous event went flawlessly, and our company has officially secured its first huge client. Ridiculous really that when the admission of my diagnosis is finally off my chest and no lightning bolt strikes me dead, I sigh in relief.
I explain to her through my tears that I’m going to keep it from Maddie as long as possible. Protect her from the memories and the devastation. I tell her how Mom and Dad are handling it, the charm on mom’s necklace getting constant use as it’s worked back and forth on the chain.
And then I fall silent again, wanting to tell her the rest, but I know the minute it’s out of my mouth I’m going to realize just how stupid I’ve been. Testing him, pushing him away, making decisions for him that he should get to make for himself.
I rearrange the flowers in their urns, buying time, and even that sounds ludicrous because it’s not like she’s going anywhere. A cool breeze floats across the cemetery, and I settle cross-legged facing her marker, hands picking at the grass and separating the blades mindlessly.
“I met someone, Lex,” I finally say in a whisper. “You might have even heard me mention him before. His name is Becks.” I laugh, knowing she would because it’s so cliché to fall for the best man. “Yeah, the one with the nice ass from the Las Vegas trip.” I explain to her about the wedding night and the constant push and pull between us since then. About his confession that he loves me and my lie to protect him.
“I can’t ask him to go through this with me, L
ex.” The tears start again as I think of how brutal this will be, going at it alone. It’s not what I really want, but I know it’s for the best in the end. “He’s thirty-two. He should be out at clubs and meeting hot women and living his life, not stuck with a woman with scars instead of tits. Having to hold me up so I can puke because I’m so weak and sick from the chemo. He deserves a woman who has the time to take care of him, not a bald, bloated, boobless woman who is so tired from being sick, she doesn’t want to go out.”
I push the tears off my face. Knowing my words are so true but so desperately wanting to be selfish and ask him to stick it out. Deal with all the crap because I’m so damn worth it. But I can’t. He may be in the ring, but I’m just not sure if I can force him to fight for something that’s going to devastate him.
“I know what I’m doing is right, Lex. If you could see what you leaving has done to Danny … it’s …” I squeeze my eyes, trying to shut out the images of him broken and crying so hard, he couldn’t speak. Of him looking like a zombie to the point my parents took Maddie for a bit so that he could get himself together enough not to scare her.
And then I realize I don’t want to push the thoughts away. I need to remember them, use them as a steadfast reminder of why I can’t drag Becks into this.
Why he can’t know that I’m in love with him too.
Hell yes, I’d step into the ring with him, would love him to fight beside me.
“I love him,” I whisper into the silence. “And I’m scared to death.” The sobs rack my body as I finally say the two things I’ve been holding in, have been ignoring over the past two weeks. And there’s something about saying a hard truth aloud that makes it both more real and more cathartic. Almost like even if it’s just me in a cemetery, I still can’t take the acknowledgment back.
“Give me a sign, Lex. Please give me something to tell me that you’re listening. That I don’t need to be scared because your wings up there are shielding me from the worst of it. I need to know you’re by my side.”
“She is by your side.” His voice startles me. Scares the hell out of me really, and I know a part of it’s because I thought I was alone, but the other part is I wonder how much he’s heard. “Every second of every day, she’s by your side.”
I’m wiping the tears off my face with my shirt as I turn around to face Danny. He’s standing behind me, his hands shoved deep in his jeans’ pockets and his head angled to meet my gaze. “Until she had Maddie, you were the one she took care of. The one she thought of before herself. We used to fight about it, actually. How she’d think of you before she’d think of me.”
I push myself up from my seat, my right foot numb from sitting for so long. I know I look like a mess, but I don’t care because Danny’s words captivate me. Something about Lex that I never knew. Something to hold tight to when I thought there’d never be anything new again.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper but all the while a little part of me smiles at how lucky I was to have that connection to my sister.
“Don’t be,” he says, taking a step toward me and then looking at her grave for a moment. “That’s one of the things I loved about her. Her commitment to her family, to you. I knew that when we had kids, she’d be fiercely protective and incredible with them because of the way she was with you.”
I bite my lip to prevent more tears from falling and know already that I’m going to fail miserably. I step beside Danny, my posture echoing his as we both stare at the dates on the stone marker, which reinforce that Lex is never coming back.
“You didn’t tell me.” The hurt woven into his voice squeezes my heart. I reach over and put his hand in mine and keep it there as I try to explain why I didn’t tell him about my diagnosis. “Your mom told me last night when she dropped Maddie off. She needed to talk to someone besides your dad about it and didn’t realize that I didn’t know yet…. I’m so sorry. Had…. I don’t even know what to—”
“There’s nothing to say,” I tell him. “It is what it is. They caught it early. Hopefully, that will help.” I say the words but don’t feel any truth behind them. I feel like a broken record on repeat because there is no conviction in my voice. He just nods his head and squeezes my hand, the silence that was comforting now filled with unease. “It’s all so raw still … Lex being gone. I thought maybe if I waited to tell you until after the surgery, I’d have better news. It would dredge up less of everything for you. I don’t know.” I shake my head and exhale loudly. “I don’t know anything right now, Danny. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was just trying to do what I thought was best for you.”
“You don’t get to make those decisions, Haddie. For me. For anyone. That’s my choice. That’s their choice. You’re not God, so stop playing everyone’s cards for them. You’re robbing us and yourself of possibilities because of it.” He falls silent, which only serves to emphasize his words as he turns to face me. When I lift my eyes to meet his, I see a different man before me. Yes, I see the grief still weighing heavily, but I also see a quiet resolve that hasn’t been there before. He stares at me for a moment before just barely shaking his head and then pulling me into him and wrapping his arms around me.
At first I just stand there, the numbness I choose to feel dictating my immobility. His words are soaking into my psyche, a verbal backhand to my way of thinking. And I know he’s right. Every single word. So when the guilt and shame and acknowledgment over what I’ve done to Becks, done to him, hit me like that Mack Truck Rylee warned me about, everything I’ve held in comes bubbling up.
I start to move, start to feel again. I wrap my arms around him and cling there, tears escalating in strength and volume as the house of cards I’ve built to protect my heart comes tumbling down. Danny holds me as I get it all out, quiet murmurs of support being said but nothing else besides that until all that’s left in me is hitching, tearless sounds.
He keeps his arms around me for a moment longer before we separate, both of us wiping away tears. He steps forward and kisses his fingers before he runs them over her etched name.
“I miss her so much, Had. Every single moment of every goddamn day.” He falls silent as he reins in the tears before continuing. “Every day I think she’s going to walk through that front door, that I’ll hear her bitch that I left my shoes in the way, hear her laugh as I tell her about my day, watch the love in her eyes as she holds Maddie … every damn day….” His voice fades off.
His words tear into me and reawaken a sadness that somehow was untapped somewhere, and before I can think, the question is off my tongue. “Do you ever wish you’d never met her?” His head snaps up, the shock and anger in his eyes has me scrambling to explain myself. “I mean, was loving her worth the risk? If you hadn’t met her, then you’d never have had to go through all of this. You’d never have had to watch her die, be alone….”
Danny hangs his head for a moment before looking back toward her marker. “I don’t regret for a single day any moment I spent with her—good, bad, and ugly.” He looks up to meet my eyes. “She was my everything, Haddie. And, God … fuck, it broke me, watching her suffer, watching her die…. Look at me. I’m still broken,” he says, holding his hands out to his sides, “but I wouldn’t give up a single second I had with her because even though the end was brutal, do you have any idea how much of her light she left me to hold on to?” A ghost of a smile spreads across his face, and somehow it reaches his eyes for the first time since she died. “She gave me hope and laughter. She gave me love so strong, I’ll always feel it, feel her. She gave me a lifetime of memories in the few years we had together … and most important, she gave me Maddie.”
And the way he says that, with astonished gratitude, has a soft smile spreading on my lips too.
“Would I give anything to have her here? Give up everything I own so that she could watch Maddie grow up and so she could sit in a rocker on the porch and grow old with me? Without a fucking doubt, I would … but you know what? We lived every moment together like it w
as our last, even before she got sick. We used to always say no regrets. How little did we know what that motto would come to mean for us….” His voice trails off.
He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a few steps away from me and then stops. “You asked me if it was worth the risk,” he says before turning back around to look at me. “I miss her. I lost her … but look at all that I would have missed, never experienced, if I’d never opened myself up. Is fate cruel? Hell yes, it is. Would I have rather not have loved her so I didn’t feel this constant grief? Never. She was worth it … every fucking risk…. She was worth every single one.” And even though there are tears glistening in his eyes, his voice has never sounded more resolute.
We stare at each other for a moment before he mutters that he needs a moment to compose himself. He starts to walk away, and I tell him to stay. I’ll wander so he can have some time with Lex.
I walk carefully through the cemetery and come to an unoccupied grassy patch up on a hill overlooking the rest of it. I lower myself to the grass and prop myself back on my hands, raise my face to the sun, and enjoy the warmth of it drying my tears. Danny’s words strike a chord in me, my heart so happy that my sister was able to experience that kind of love in her short life. And then I start to think of Becks, and I begin to wonder if I’m robbing us of a chance at that.
Could he be the one? Could we have a love like that? I have no clue, but Danny’s right. Who am I to try to control fate for us? Hell yes, the fear is still there and the desire to push him away to protect him, but at the same time, I feel that tiny thrill of possibility.
A dandelion catches the corner of my eye, and the sob chokes in my throat. Memories light up my mind, and I can’t help but think of this as a sign that Lex is hearing me, understanding me, rooting for me.
I lean over to pick the dandelion up and hold it up in front of my face, staring at the plethora of seeds tempting me to blow them into the wind. I close my eyes, the first tear slipping over, but this tear is a combination of acceptance, sorrow, and relief.
