Chapter 24
I finally break free of the spell that is being in his presence and find myself back home. My dad is gone for the week, and it makes me wonder if I should have just stayed at Callahan’s. Before I decide whether to go back, Farrah calls me.
“You dead?” she asks when I pick up.
“Not funny.”
“I’m not joking. You haven’t returned my texts in days. I was about to hop on a plane, but Callahan texted me back and let me know you just left his place.” She started off sounding concerned, and ended on a note of nosiness.
“Dang, I didn’t realize you guys were friends like that.” I throw down my bag and start pulling out the dirty clothes.
“Ever since he became your man, I decided we had to be friends. Have I said how much I like him?”
With everything emptied, I think seriously about going back to Callahan’s after this conversation.
“No, you haven’t said.”
“Well, I do. He is so about you, girl, it’s insane. The way he looks at you in the pictures you post. I just can’t take it.”
“Yeah?” I ask, sitting down. I press my hand to my mouth to keep my lips from pulling apart.
“Yeah. He’s a good one.”
My face warms as my heart picks up the pace.
“I can’t wait to spend more time with him when I come back in a few months. I’m sorry, I’m pretty much missing all of your appointments. We are moving up the schedule a little, so I might be able to be there for the last two.”
“Don’t worry, I’m well taken care of.”
“I can see that. So, have you had more sex and proven that he is better than Charlie?”
“No, I haven’t had much of an urge, and honestly, he is a saint. But sometimes when I’m with him, I really want to. But shortly after, it all goes away. Sort of like the sun popping out from behind a cloud just to go back again.” I sigh and press my hand against my forehead.
“Why don’t you, then?”
“Because I don’t want to lose it halfway through and then just disappoint him. He is already being so understanding. Honestly, Farrah, he is almost too good. We haven’t had sex since December. If it weren’t for the constant hard-ons, I would think he doesn’t even want me.”
“Errol and I haven’t had sex since before your dad’s party, thanks to our schedules.
That’s just how relationships are sometimes.
I’m not saying he isn’t amazing for being understanding and patient, but don’t feel bad.
You are going through something very real, and if the shoes were reversed, you would do the same for him. ”
“How are you guys?”
She catches me up about their fights and where they are now on the baby train, making me feel more confident. They love each other, and have worked to be together. If they are still working through things even after marriage, maybe all relationships have problems.
“I guess it’s good that it’s not perfect. If it were, then that means we are just in a honeymoon phase,” I say while packing up my face routine. I have decided I’m going back to his place, if only to show him how much I appreciate him.
“Yes. You’re correct. So don’t worry.”
Putting me more at ease, I send her a few pictures of my wig. She tells me she is going to maybe have him put one on her if all of her hair can fit.
“Wait, you aren’t going to shave your head in solidarity?” I try not to let her hear my smile.
“Of course I will, I’ll book an appointment right after this movie.”
“I’m kidding. I would never expect you to do something like that.”
She exhales, and I laugh at her clear relief.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
I picture her biting her bottom lip and touching her beautiful curls.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Oh, thank God. I love you, and I would do it, but I’m happy I don’t have to. I’ll buy you a celebrity-level wig and the application for your cancer-free party.”
I drop my stuff by the front door, then take my dirty clothes down to the laundry room.
“What party?”
“You didn’t really think I wasn’t going to throw you a party for beating this? It’s huge what you’re doing.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“You’re so crazy. I get a cold and I fall apart. You have to know that what you’re going through is hard, and it’s okay to say so.”
I move to the living room, realizing this is going to be a longer conversation than I thought. Plopping down into the chair, I cross my legs.
“I have said so. If I’m being honest, I have been a mess these last few weeks, and Callahan has seen it all.”
“He has?”
“Yes. Every day, it seems like I’m losing something else. I’m not pretending to be okay. Most days I’m not okay. I just don’t want to keep hearing that I shouldn’t be. Maybe someone should tell me to buck up and stop crying.”
“Whoever does that is an asshole.”
“Well, maybe I need an asshole. Is Errol available?”
This gets a chuckle out of her. “If you really want to call him, I’m sure he would be willing to give you a motivating speech telling you how much of an annoyance you are being, but just know he doesn’t actually mean it.”
“I know,” I sigh out.
We talk for a little bit more about her project until she has to hang up to get some sleep.
Left alone with my thoughts, they battle with each other. Part of me still feels like I’m not being strong enough, while the other side is unsure how much more I can take.
Accepting that how I react is not entirely controlled by me, I get up and go to the house of the person who makes that okay.
I stayed at Callahan’s place until the day of the next appointment. He was gone when I woke up, but he promised to meet me at the clinic. Now, standing outside waiting for him, I watch as the minutes tick closer and closer to the start time.
Looking at my phone again to see if he has called or texted, I don’t know what to do with the lack of notifications.
“Maybe he forgot,” I mumble into my closed fist. But he wouldn’t. He’s always shown up before. He said he would be here.
Looking at the time again, I know I have to go in soon.
“Just call him.”
With a big sigh, I hit his contact and then nibble on my bottom lip while it rings. When it gets to his voicemail, I’m too stunned to leave words.
“One more time.”
Fighting my natural inner voice that wants to call me pathetic, I try to remember that this isn’t an admission of anything. I’m just seeing if he is going to be here or not. It’s okay if he isn’t, I’ll still be able to do this.
I’m not sure I believe that with the flood of relief that I feel when he picks up.
“Hey, I’m sorry, I was just going to call you.”
“That’s okay. How far out are you?” I look around the parking lot, like his car will suddenly appear.
“I can’t make it. Rowan got into an accident, and I’m at the scene with her. She’s fine, but they are going to take her in, just to be sure. I’m sorry.”
“Oh shit, no, don’t be sorry. I get that. It’s okay. Please keep me posted.” Something coils in my gut, and I don’t know who the reaction is for.
“Are you going to be okay on your own?” His voice sounds thin, but it could be the whipping wind of whatever freeway or street he is on.
“Yeah, of course. I told you all from the start that I can do the appointments on my own. I’ll be fine.”
I press my hand to my stomach, trying to soothe whatever this feeling is.
“Okay, can you call me when you get home? I can try to meet you there.”
“No, stay with Rowan. I’m okay. I’ve done this before.” But never without him. I’ve never done an appointment without him being there afterward. I shake my head and smile like he can see me. Putting on a brave face for myself, I guess.
“Okay, love, but still call me.”
“Sure,” I say, and then turn towards the entrance. “I have to go in now, but let me know if there are any changes with Rowan.”
He promises and then hangs up, and I’m left feeling unsure. Of what? I don’t know. But I don’t like the feeling.
Walking in, Nurse Rasheda’s eyes pop open when she realizes that no one is with me. I just give her a smile and a few excuses when she straps me in, and then I sit silently.
Time seems to move at the pace of a snail during the treatment.
It could be the lack of conversation, or the nauseous feeling that started even before I got in, but I feel every painful second of my being here alone, and I hate it.
I hate the quiet, the lack of touch, and the feeling of abandonment that is as strong as it is unjust.
A feeling that only magnifies when I’m lying on the bathroom floor by myself. Today, the tiles feel colder, and the vomiting feels worse. The echoing sound of just my breathing is so loud that it forces me to acknowledge it’s just me in here. I’m alone. He’s not here, and I think I need him to be.
I don’t know when I let him become so integral to my existence, but in the sea of this battle, he is one of the only things holding me up, and right now, I’m drowning without him.
“Fuck,” I whisper, as a tear leaks out. “Why did I do this?”
How did I let this happen?
At some point, I started looking at him and seeing my whole future looking back at me, and now I can’t imagine one without him.
But I have to.
Today is a reminder that at any moment, I might have to live without him again, and if this is just one day of me needing him, a lifetime will break me at the pace we are going.
So when he calls to check in, I don’t answer. I just text him that I’m okay, and then hold myself, trying to get comfortable with the feeling of just my arms.