Kellan
Chapter Thirty-Three
Writing this letter has to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I imagine it’s nothing compared to you having to read it. It’s my hope you never have to, but I couldn’t not write something to the people I love.
First, I know how you will blame yourself.
Stop it. Stop right now. Everything happens for a reason.
As much as I hate cancer, I recognize if it wasn’t for this horrible disease, I wouldn’t have met you.
Strange to think that way, but it’s true.
What was going to be the worst year of my life has also turned out to be the very best. Because I walked into that bar, sat on your lap, and became your fake girlfriend.
Then your real one. That was the very best part.
I love you. With my entire heart. Beyond words. Beyond sickness, and yes, beyond death.
Someday I hope you can find someone else who is worthy enough to deserve your love.
It’s hard to write those words and not feel jealous, by the way.
But it’s important you continue to live your life.
Unless it’s with your ex. Then I will fucking haunt you.
Pick someone worthy. (Not her, did I mention that?) Honor me by never wasting a minute of your life.
Don’t throw yourself into your job. Travel to Hawaii, Tahiti, and Iceland.
Build or remodel a beautiful house for yourself. Think of me, but don’t grieve too long.
You were the love of my life. And in the last few months, we had more than some people get in all of their years. It was special. It was magical. And I don’t regret one moment—except trying to break up with you when I lost my hair. Lucky for me, you’re stubborn and didn’t listen.
All of my love,
Layla
P.S. Sorry we didn’t get to the kinky stuff, babe.
A chuckle burst from my throat, but it quickly turned into a sob. Fuck. I wiped my nose with my sleeve, tears burning my eyes and running freely down my face. I warred between wanting to curse God, pray to him, beg him, or forsake him.
Take me instead, I offered, looking up into the gray morning sky. Even standing eight stories up on the hospital roof didn’t seem to give me the audience I wished for. The looming rain clouds showed no signs he was listening.
I couldn’t do this. Be denied Layla’s laugh, never see her face or feel her warmth again. How could I possibly go on with such an empty life?
It hurt to breathe. Such a simple task, yet in this moment the effort to do so was monumental.
How? How did people survive this type of grief?
How did they get through worse, such as losing a child?
God. Her parents must be a mess. And her brother.
There were so many people who would find it hard to breathe.
My head turned at the sound of the door creaking open.
Russ walked out to my hiding spot on the roof. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere.”
I held up the letter to show him what I’d been doing.
“You know she’s gonna be pissed you read her letter.”
It took a moment for his words to register. “You mean?” I’d been gone maybe twenty minutes. I didn’t dare hope that in such a short amount of time things had turned around.
“She’s a fighter. Not out of the woods, but this latest blood draw shows hope. Her body is finally responding to the antibiotics.”
I was up on my feet in seconds. “But they said—” As much as I wanted it to be true, I also was scared to believe it could be. A half hour ago, the doctor had been preparing us for the worst.
“Come on. Come see for yourself. And hide that letter.”
I took a moment before going to her hospital room. I needed it to get my emotions in check. I thought I was there until I found my mom, dad, and little sister in the waiting room.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“As if we’d stay away. We wanted to be here for you. For Layla. We love her, too,” my mom answered.
“It means a lot for you to be here. She’s better than she was, but she’s still fighting.”
My father clapped me on the back while my sister hugged me. “We’ll be here.”
“Thank you.” I wiped my eyes, so grateful to have such a supportive family.
By the time I walked into Layla’s room, I was calm—at least on the outside. On the inside, however, I was a fucking mess. A pinball machine of emotions.
Both Russ and his parents were also in the room. Each of them confirmed with the hope on their faces that something had changed.
I approached the bed.
Although she remained motionless with her eyes closed, breathing tube in, Layla’s color looked better.
As I took the chair next to her, it clicked that when I’d left to read the letter, I hadn’t thought I’d have the opportunity to sit here again.
I took her hand. It was warm to the touch, as if to remind me her heart still beat.
Leaning over her, I let the tears go. Vaguely, I heard Russell suggest to his parents they give me a moment.
I was grateful for a few minutes alone with her, so I could cry without an audience.
I lost all sense of time as I cried myself out. Layla’s family returned. After they spoke with the doctor, who echoed what Russell had earlier told me, they decided to head to the hotel nearby so they could shower, take a nap, and come back later.
“Kellan, you should get some rest, too,” Russ urged.
My head was already shaking no before the last syllable was out of his mouth. “I need to stay. Do you mind updating my family on your way out? They can go to my place and get settled. They know where the spare key is hidden.” It was nearing afternoon now.
He sighed, laying a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be back in a couple hours. Call us if anything goes the wrong direction?”
“Absolutely.”
As soon as I was alone with her, I let out a ragged breath. “I’m a mess without you, Layla. Ugly cry and all. It’s not a good look for me.”
Her hand moved. It was slight, but it was enough for me to sit up so I could observe her. Nothing. The machines giving her breath made it hard to gauge if her movement had been a reflex or an actual, voluntary motion.
I called the nurse in. She checked Layla’s vitals. “She’s sedated, but you can talk to her. The doctor will be in soon to see if we can bring her out of sedation and remove the tube.”
“Thanks.” I took Layla’s hand, putting my face to her palm.
“I love you so much. I need you here with me. Don’t you know this isn’t how our story ends?”