1. Ethan #2
Death, God, fate, whoever the fuck was in charge, had allotted me a certain amount of time, and I was racing towards the end of it in a car with faulty breaks. I could press down on them. It might slow the inevitable. But it wouldn’t stop it.
Nothing would.
One day, I’d believed myself to be a perfectly healthy twenty-eight-year-old. Okay, so I probably drank more than the recommended amounts, and I definitely ate way too much fast food. But I had time, right? That’s what everyone thinks in their twenties. Most of them wouldn’t need to worry, either.
But I did. One seizure and a hospital visit later, and my entire world had been turned on its head. My biggest concern had gone from where Dave and I should go on holiday next summer, to whether or not I’d still be around to do so.
I swallowed hard, flashing back to Dave’s reaction when we found out.
How he’d taken my hand in his and solemnly promised to stand by me.
I was lucky; I knew that. For all his faults, Dave was a loyal man.
A lot of blokes fucked off when their partner was given a diagnosis as severe as the one I’d received.
I’d even told Dave I’d understand if he did.
But he’d insisted he’d be there for me. And he had.
For the most part.
“See you in three weeks,” Sandy chirped as she slid the card across the desk to me.
I swallowed, my chest tightening just like it did every time I saw the new date and time scrawled in black ink across the white appointment card.
“Don’t forget, our number is on the back.
Call us if you have any questions or side effects that are concerning you. ”
Concerning, because side effects were expected. Everyone knew that. I had a whole bag of medication waiting at home in an attempt to alleviate some of them. But in three days’ time, once the steroids wore off, I’d experience them nonetheless.
“I will, thank you.” I smiled at Sandy, weary down to my bones.
Her lips pinched. “Your Dave is collecting you, yes? You’re not driving home?”
“Nope, he’ll be here,” I said with a firm nod. “He’s probably waiting right now.”
She turned away, muttering under her breath as she did so. Unfortunately, there was nothing wrong with my hearing. “Couldn’t find his way to the ward again, I see. Utter waste of space.”
I tried to feel annoyed, but it was hard when she was right.
If the situation was reversed, if Dave had just sat through three hours of chemo alone, I would’ve been at reception waiting to greet him.
Hell, I would’ve come up as soon as I arrived, even if it’d meant only being there for ten minutes of his session. It still would’ve counted.
I waved goodbye to Lily and Sandy before heading for the door.
My footsteps were heavy as the cheery chatter of the nurses faded away.
I didn’t need to look up. My feet carried me towards the exit on muscle memory alone.
I might’ve come home, but the most I’d seen of it had been inside these hospital walls.
Once again, I found myself questioning my decision to undergo treatment. By the time the cancer in my brain had been discovered, it’d already spread to my lungs, liver, and pancreas.
In other words, I was irrevocably fucked. A ticking time bomb had been lurking within me, waiting to be discovered. Now that it had been, was I doing the right thing by prolonging what couldn’t be changed?
I was. Deep down, I knew this was the right decision for me.
It wasn’t the right decision for everyone, but it was for me.
Fuck, though, it was hard. Beyond hard. I was tired.
Tired of hospitals, blood tests, and appointments.
Exhausted by the thought of nothing in my future but more of the same and health that would only ever get worse.
Most of all, I was tired of going through this alone. Not the whole thing. Dave was there. Of course he was.
But he wasn’t here right now.
God, I wished he was. Anyone, really. Just so I didn’t have to do this lonely walk out of the hospital and down to the car park all by myself.
I ran a hand through my curls as I made my way outside.
I was one of the few who hadn’t lost their hair, but the chemo had made up for it by giving me every other side effect under the sun.
A headache began to pound at my temples as I looked up and down each row of cars.
There was no sight of the Vauxhall Dave had picked up on our return.
Sighing, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see if he’d at least texted.
Nothing.
I hung my head low. Was this truly how I was going to spend the last of my days? Waiting desperately for someone, anyone, to have my back, completely and without question?
Maybe I was just being overdramatic. Dave had agreed to pick me up during his lunch hour, thanks to my early appointment. He’d likely just got stuck at work.
I chewed on my lip, trying to decide what to do. If Dave’s shoot was running over then he wouldn’t be able to answer his phone. It’d explain why he hadn’t messaged too.
A wave of nausea washed through me. I pressed a hand to my stomach and took slow, steady breaths until it passed. It didn’t vanish completely—it rarely did these days—but it ebbed enough for a few minutes of relief.
Minutes during which I needed to call Dave. If he didn’t answer, I’d call a taxi. Either way, I needed to be at home. Soon.
Before my body reminded me that standing for this long wasn’t something we could do as easily now.
Fuck, how I hated it. I hated the weakness in my once strong limbs. The fog that constantly clouded my brain. The endless fatigue and pain.
My body might have been ready to let go, but I wasn’t.
I didn’t think I ever would be.
Swallowing back tears, I dialled Dave. It rang, and rang, and rang.
I was just about to give up when he answered. “Eth? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
I held the phone away from my ear, wincing at the torrent of sound. “What is that?”
The noise faded. “Sorry, babe, just stepped outside. Can you hear me now?”
“Yeah. Where are you?”
“Just at the pub. Jono and some of the others persuaded me to sneak out for a quick one. Shit, have you finished already?”
I fought back tears. So, Dave couldn’t find time to come with me for my chemo sessions, but he had no difficulty getting to the pub with his mates.
Maybe I wasn’t being fair. He’d come to my sessions at the start, holding my hand through each one. I couldn’t expect Dave to put his whole life on hold for me. I was the one dying, not him. There was no reason why he couldn’t go on living.
“Babe? Fuck, I’m late, aren’t I?” I could hear his scuffing footsteps, his car beeping as it was unlocked. “I’m so sorry, Eth. I’m on my way now, I swear. I’ll be twenty minutes. Thirty, tops.”
“It’s okay,” I heard myself say, even as my muscles wept at the thought of waiting another half hour. “Shall I meet you out front?”
“Yeah, that works.” A car door slammed on the other end of the line, then there was the sound of an engine revving. “See you soon. I’m sorry.”
“No worries.” I gave a tight smile, forgetting he couldn’t see me. “Drive safe.”
The beep in my ear told me he’d hung up already. Probably to focus on driving.
I wished he’d said goodbye.
Fuck, I had to stop letting such minor stuff bother me. It was bad enough that Dave’s carelessness had annoyed me before I was sick. I wasn’t about to let it taint our final months together.
My final months.
That was still so hard to think about.
Pocketing my phone, I turned back towards the hospital, slowly making my way to the pickup point.
When I’d first been diagnosed, I’d been glad that I didn’t have a family.
My dad had taken off when I was a teenager, with my mum passing away three years ago.
I was an only child, no cousins or other relatives who knew or cared about my existence.
I’d always been jealous of those who had a big family.
People who loved and cared for them unconditionally.
Take Matty, for example. He didn’t just have loving parents, but a fiercely protective brother who’d given him a place to live.
Riley had a complicated relationship with his mum, but there was no questioning the deep love they shared.
As for Lucky? Well, he had even less family than I did. But with his two partners and the tight-knit group they belonged to, I liked to think he didn’t feel it as much these days.
All the jealousy had faded away that day in the doctor’s office. One look at Dave’s ashen face, and I’d been glad I didn’t have a family.
That’s the worst thing about cancer. It’s not just the person it takes, but the loved ones who are left behind. Who have to watch someone they care for fade away day by day.
Dave was going to suffer that fate for me.
That was why I never held it against him that he couldn’t come to all my treatments.
I could only imagine how hard it had to be for him, being reminded that my time here was coming to an end.
That our relationship had an expiration date that neither of us had put there.
Never thought I’d be grateful for how lonely and isolated I’d become over the past few years, but I was. It was bad enough that Dave was having to go through this.
I didn’t want anyone else to suffer because of me.
I was lost in my thoughts as I stepped into the road, so focused on the death in front of me that I didn’t realise it was coming from another direction entirely.
Everything happened in slow motion.
A screech of brakes on my left.
Metal crunching.
Searing pain along my hip.
Suddenly, I was airborne.
Is this what it’s like to fly?
Concrete rushed up to meet me.
There was a blinding flash of light.
Oh god, this is the end. This is how it happens.
Then, there was only silence.