Chapter 27 Ella
Megan dropped her fork onto her plate with a loud clatter. Several people from nearby tables turned at the sound.
“You’re being a fucking coward,” she said.
The other patrons quickly looked away. Beyond them, darkness had descended upon Boston.
The people that walked by the restaurant windows were half in shadow, half bathed in pink and blue and green as they passed beneath the electric strobe of neon lights.
It looked nice out there. Welcoming. Free from older sisters hell-bent on lecturing me.
I forced my gaze away from the beckoning glow of the Exit sign and back to my sister. “Can we not do this here?”
“Oh, we’re doing this,” she said.
Stacey frowned. “Be nice, Meg. Anyone in Ella’s shoes would be struggling.”
Megan shook her head. “She’s not struggling. She’s hiding down here with us so she doesn’t have to make a decision.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Funny. I could have sworn that I’ve been down here breaking my back moving your furniture halfway across the goddamn city.”
“We finished moving two days ago. What are you still doing here?” she asked.
That hurt. So much for our celebratory dinner.
Up until now, this had been a nice trip.
A needed trip. Between lugging all their earthly possessions from East Boston to Chelsea, helping them deep clean their old apartment so they didn’t lose their deposit, picking out paint samples, reveling in the warm weather (how sad was it that 50 felt warm?), and eating out at diverse, eclectic restaurants for just about every meal, I’d been able to get out of my own head.
“Love you too, Megan,” I grumbled.
“Don’t do that,” she said. “Don’t deflect or try to turn this around on me.
We’re worried, Ella. You’ve been mopey and sad and quiet this entire trip.
You haven’t cracked a single fucking joke.
I don’t think I’ve even seen you smile. That’s not you.
You’ve crippled yourself with indecision.
Since when have you ever hidden from your problems? ”
I started to get angry. “This isn’t one of my normal problems. The man I love just received a life-altering diagnosis.
” I hadn’t really outright lied to them, more like skirted around details and said that Stan had recently found out he had a chronic illness that could potentially make a future with him incredibly difficult and painful and possibly even dangerous.
“And your response is to abandon him?” Megan asked.
“He. Kicked. Me. Out,” I said through clenched teeth. “Because he needs this time more than I do.”
“Fine. But it’s been over a month. That’s plenty of time for you to figure out if he’s worth fighting for.”
I threw my hands up. “Of course he’s worth fighting for. Him, as I know him right now. But this disease might change him.”
“And who’s to say you won’t love the new him just as much? Despite his flaws? Alternatively, he could remain exactly as he is right now. You said so yourself; there’s no way to know.”
I shook my head. “You can’t think of a chronic illness like that. You can’t put your blinders on and hope for the best. Doing that wouldn’t have saved Grandpa or Renee, and it sure as shit won’t save Stan.”
“If my years of anxiety have taught me anything, it’s that you sure as shit can’t go through life continuously thinking up all the ways that everything could blow up in your face.
Listening to the way you’re talking right now, I’m amazed you managed to finish that salad without being terrified that it was filled with arsenic-laced rat shit that might end up killing you. ”
The woman at the nearest table set down her napkin, meal half done, and called for the check.
I leaned forward. “You’re disturbing the other patrons, Megan.”
She looked over at the woman. “I eat here all the time, and I’ve never gotten sick. If there’s arsenic in the rat shit, it hasn’t reached levels toxic to humans.”
The woman paled.
“Oh my God, Megan,” Stacey said, sinking down in her chair.
My sister turned back to me. “I hate seeing you like this. I meant what I said a minute ago. You can’t let fear dictate your decision.”
“I can’t just ignore it, either.”
“I would never tell you to ignore it. But you also can’t ignore the possibility that it might never get that bad. You need to accept these outcomes and then decide if he’s worth both of them.”
I shifted in my seat. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”
“For over a month?” She sat back, arms crossed over her chest. “Have you been miserable the whole time?”
I nodded.
“Has it gotten better or worse?”
“Worse.”
“Good.”
I stared at her. “How is that good?”
“Because it tells you that you’d be miserable without him. Imagine it, Ella. You’ve gone worst-case scenario on his condition, but what about with your own wellbeing? You’re not happy right now. You think you’d just bounce back after deciding to let him go?”
I shook my head.
“Would you ever stop thinking about him? Worrying about him? Wondering what might have been if only you’d had the ovaries to stay with him?”
“Probably not,” I said.
“There you go then. If you stay with him, there may be a lot of tough times ahead. If you leave him, you know for a fact that you’ll be miserable and filled with regret.”
Stacey handed Megan her steak knife.
Megan took it, frowning. “What’s this for?”
“I thought you might want to stab her for the finale,” Stacey said.
Megan set the knife down and leaned forward to clasp my hand.
“I’m sorry, Ella. I know this sucks. But you need to make a decision.
For you, and for him. You think he hasn’t thought of you this whole time too?
Wondering if you’ve left him forever? You think he needs that on his plate with everything else he’s dealing with? ”
I sniffed, fighting off tears. “No.”
Stacey scooted her chair around the table and hugged me. “It’s okay,” she said.
I put my head in my hands. “It’s not,” I told her. “I miss him. So goddamn much.”
And not just in an, I missed having company kind of way.
I missed the way his eyes crinkled up when he smiled.
I missed the way he tilted his head sideways and said “Yeah?” when I complimented him.
I missed the way we teased each other. I missed hearing his perspective on current events.
I missed the way he flirted with me. I missed that non-stop feeling of butterflies when I was around him.
I missed the puppies. God, they must be so big now.
Three times the size of the fuzzy little mutt Megan and Stacey picked up at the shelter yesterday.
“Sounds like you’ve got it bad,” Stacey said.
I nodded. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. No offense,” I told Megan.
“None taken,” she said.
I wrapped my arms around my stomach. Between the stress and the anxiety, it was starting to hurt. “This is worse than when Renee and Grandpa died.”
Megan grinned. “Listen to what you just said, Ella. Being away from him is causing you more pain than losing a family member. You didn’t walk away from Renee when she was dying of cancer. Can you really live with yourself if you walk away from someone who might be the love of your life?”
I let out a heavy breath as the realization hit me. No. I couldn’t.
She was right. If I loved him, I would be a fucking coward not to fight for him.
***
I was zipping up my bag the next morning when Stella, the fuzzy little mutt that Megan and Stacey had adopted, raced into the room, tripping over the bra she carried in her mouth. I was too slow to catch her, and she dove past my outstretched hands and disappeared under the bed.
“Get back here, you little a-hole,” Megan said, barreling into the room.
Stacey was hot on her heels. Despite my sister’s raised voice, I could tell from her expression that she wasn’t even remotely angry that, for some bizarre reason, Stella kept stealing articles of her clothing and hiding them all over the apartment.
“She’s adjusted pretty quickly,” I said to Stacey.
“Which one?” Stacey asked, side-eyeing Megan as my sister scrambled beneath the bed after the puppy.
I grinned and swung my duffle bag over a shoulder. “Thanks so much again for having me. Sorry I wasn’t better company.”
She gave me a quick hug. “It’s okay. You’re welcome any time. You know that.” She pulled away and coughed in a way that sounded like a prompt.
“Uh…” Megan said, voice muffled. “I’m sorry again for calling you a coward.”
“It’s okay,” I told her. “I needed to hear it.”
“You weren’t being a coward,” Stacey said for what must have been the fifth time.
I shrugged. “Maybe not, but I was definitely losing my battle with fear.”
Megan reappeared from under the bed, bra in hand, expression victorious. “Got it.” She turned to look up at me. “You going to get a therapist recommendation from Sophia?”
“As soon as I get home.” I still had things to work through, and it wasn’t fair of me to continuously burden my sister-in-law with them.
Megan and Stacey walked me down to my truck a few minutes later. It was mid-morning, and the wind that whipped off the Charles River was frigid, reminding me of the deep cold I was about to return to.
“Have a safe ride home. Text when you get there so I don’t worry,” Stacey said.
I chucked my bag into the passenger seat and turned to her. “I will. And thank you both again so much.”
Megan surprised me by pulling me into a hard hug that lasted a few beats longer than normal.
“I really am sorry,” she said. “You’re not a coward.
That was a shitty thing to say. I just love you so much, and believe in you so much, that I felt like I needed to do something drastic to snap you out of it.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as down as when you got here, and honestly, it freaked me out. I didn’t handle it well.”
I squeezed her before letting go. “I get it. And I accept your apology. Love you too.”
“I hope things work out with you and Stan,” she said.
“Me too,” I told her.