TIME
46
Jack : Did you get home alright?
Evie : I did! Thank you for dinner.
Jack : Thank YOU for saving it.
Evie : Don’t mention it. You’ve done most of the work.
Evie : Do you want me to do the shopping tomorrow before I come in? I need to refill your prescription too.
Jack : Sure! Take your time, I’m exhausted, and I think we’ll have a lazy morning.
Jack : Oh, and Evie?
Jack : I’m so happy to be your friend.
Evie : Stop it, you’ll make me cry.
Evie : I’ll see you tomorrow morning.
JACK
My lungs hurt.
My eyes snap open before I squint, trying to see through the darkness of the room.
I take a long inhale of air, but the pressure intensifies in my chest with a throbbing pain.
It feels wrong. I can’t—can’t breathe.
But no, it can’t happen now. There’s still so much I want to do… So much I want to see.
I close my eyes, feeling tears rolling down my temple. Petrified in my bed, unable to sit up or roll to the side.
I wish I could have the time to go back to Aspen a couple of times. To see our siblings again now that we’ve been trying to fix things. I wish I could live long enough to see Prudence in a wedding dress and walk her down the aisle. Place her hand in Nate’s. Have the first dance after him. I wish I found the perfect home for her. I wish I had started looking earlier…
I wish that P.I worked faster…
My head is swirling, buzzing with the sound of my heartbeats. Too fast. Too slow. Like it’s struggling to pump blood. Like I’m not getting enough oxygen.
Right. I can’t breathe.
I’m being shaken. There’s an echo. “Jack,” it says. “Jack, Jack, Jack,” it repeats. The voice sounds rough. But soft. So soft, so familiar. Like a lover’s. Like my lover. Like the man who reignited my weak struggling heart. “Wake up mon amour , please.”
Mon amour . My love. He makes French sound so sweet.
I wish I had met him earlier.
I wish I did not pray for death for the last two years.
I don’t want to die. Please. Please, I don’t want to die anymore. I want to stay. I want—
“—not breathing—Steinert disease—yes—hurry—”
I need to go to the hospital. I need to make some changes on things I’ve asked for when I decided I wanted to die. I need… There is too much to do. I need more time.
“—need to hold on mon amour —getting Prue—Hold on—”
Hold on. I need to hold on.