They say time heals all wounds, but that’s a lie. All it does is draw out the pain. The most heart-wrenching goodbyes are the unexpected ones. There’s no chance to prepare. There’s no opportunity to reconcile. There’s no risk taken, to make the most of every moment beforehand. Everything stops abruptly and turns into a flawlessly dark vortex of nothingness. Nothing to cling to. Nothing to grasp. Falling into endless sorrow. Grief, it had no expiration date. My repaired heart was broken, each breath in my lungs an agonizing undertaking, but no one else could fathom what the frigidity felt like.
For me, time had stopped. There would be no more beginnings and no more endings. All that remained was being lumped uselessly somewhere in the middle—left behind to simply exist.
Adam lied to me. “Nothing can keep me away,” he replied before hanging up. But something did keep him from me, and it wasn’t fair. Those words played on repeat in my head like a broken record.
My hospital stay was a blur. How much time ticked by? Days. Weeks. I still wasn’t sure, and I didn’t ask. More honestly, I didn’t care. Tests. X-rays. Scans. Poking. Prodding. I was numb to the core from all of it. Fucking irrevocably numb. I’d become a zombie, but the ironic part was the heart in my chest continued to beat.
At first, I thought it was a nightmare. Somehow, Adam would rub his face against my cheek and run his hands over my body to wake me up. I’d be able to feel the beat of his heart when I rested my head on his chest, and everything would be okay. Except it wouldn’t be.
I was already awake.
I was already devastated.
All because I was already able to feel the beat of his heart. Every damn thud. Yet, he was nowhere nearby.
* * *
For weeks, I’d stayed with Daveigh while I recovered—for lack of a better word. But there was no recovering from what I’d undergone. Finn stayed as long as he could, dragging his heels until he was satisfied with the doctor’s prognosis. The moment his flight took off, my heart broke all over again. Much like when I was with Cash, I was still the loser. There was no trophy in sight.
I’d lost everything. Every damn thing.
Not allowed to leave.
Not allowed to drive.
Not allowed to go for a walk alone.
Not allowed to have a private moment to myself.
Not allowed to love and be loved in return.
After too many rounds of pleading and begging for days on end, Daveigh gave in and acquiesced to the one favor I wanted. It would both break and destroy, but it was what I needed. For me.
An hour later, she drove her car up alongside Adam’s house and pulled the keys from the ignition. The driftwood perimeter we constructed was still there. The porch he’d built looked the same. The glittering glass from the smashed beer bottle sparkled on the ground. His ghost was everywhere. In the walls. Beneath my feet. Tangled into the air.
My breath hitched when I saw a green bicycle on the porch with neon spokes on the wheels. A giant, red bow made it impossibly perfect, yet it’d already been rendered useless. “I need to go in alone.” I stared at the tag dangling on the string, affixed to the shiny handlebars. It’d remain forever new. My heart shattered all over again in that isolated moment.
“Blue, I don’t think going in by yourself is a good idea.” She reached over the console and touched my arm.
“Give,” I closed my eyes, “me a few minutes. Please?”
Reluctantly, my sister nodded. “I’ll wait on the steps, but if you don’t come out in five, I’m coming in.”
My body was still considerably weak, Daveigh taking it upon herself to act as my crutch up to the porch. I pulled the spare set of keys from my pocket and unlocked the door. Silence had never been so loud as when I walked into that house. Utter stillness. The chili I’d heated was wrapped up on the table. Glasses of wine remained full. Brownies uneaten. A romantic dinner awaited that would never come to be. Everything was the same, except for one gaping, cavernous hole in my life.
Acidic guilt flooded my veins with every beat of Adam’s heart. I was sickened by all of it. My mother had connections at the local bank. The money I’d received from the inheritance was gifted to someone at the hospital, used to buy my life and sell Adam’s—regardless of his prognosis. I didn’t want any of Tom’s guilt-laced money. Not a God damned penny. Yet, the fact remained it was thievery in so many fucked up ways.
With shaky steps, I walked across the room and sat on the floor. Summoning enough bravery to pull out the shoebox and lifting the lid sent tears to my eyes. Fully intact. I’m not sure why I expected otherwise. My chest threatened to explode as I pulled out the velvet box and shakily slid the ring on my finger. The band was cold as I rubbed it with my thumb, knowing Adam once touched it. The bond I ached, longed, and hoped for was absent.
I stood up and walked over to the kitchen table, trailing my fingers over the foil on one of the bowls. A surge of anger rushed through me before I could try to counter it. I screamed, and picked up the bowl, lobbing it at the wall with the little strength I had. Jagged pieces of ceramic fell to the floor while a splatter of dark-colored chili marked the wall in an abstract explosion.
Daveigh hurried into the room and skidded to a halt when she saw me.
I stared at the blobs of beans and meat dripping down the wall, unable to make my limbs move. With trembling lips and more tears threatening to spill, I whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll take care of that.” She ushered me into a chair. “Sit down.”
It seemed like such a short while ago that I’d giddily waited for Adam to arrive home to sweep me into his arms in only the way he could, kiss me in only the way he could, and love me in only the way he could. I’d be left hollow and unfulfilled for any of that love, craving it, needing it. Being let down.
Love.
But… I do want to say something before we hang up, and it needs to be now. I love—”
“No! Not now,” I exclaimed. “Don’t say it.”
I heard the hollowness behind his voice. “Why?”
“Not until you’re here tonight. In person.”
He let out a sigh. “But…”
“Please? Tonight.”
“Fine. You know, I forgot about how stubborn you are.”
“You’re welcome,” I sang with a smile. “See you tonight.”
I’d lost out on the chance to say I loved him. Adam was the only man who’d ever captured my heart, and I couldn’t tell him. Why was I so stupid? He died never hearing those three little words come from my mouth after two years of blanketing silence and doubt. Maybe, if we’d continued the conversation on the phone, or if I’d have caught up to him with his wallet, or if I’d have begged a little harder for him to stay home, the few seconds would’ve made a difference in whether he survived. Instead, I’d be left wondering an endless number of “what ifs”.
My addiction was dead.
My sanctuary was dead.
My protection was dead.
If you think death is painful, try living.
I looked at the door, half-expecting it to open and for him to walk in. But it didn’t happen and I knew I’d be left disappointed every time my heart, his heart slipped up and forgot he wasn’t coming back. It was too much.
I pushed myself to my feet and shuffled into the bathroom. My palms met the sides of the sink, and I angrily stared at the soap dish. The doctors told me to not get worked up. Stay calm. But how could I? Looking at my reflection in the mirror, my injuries still hadn’t fully healed. I touched my cheek, wincing at the pain—both external and internal.
With shaking hands, I unbuttoned my shirt, studying the massive black stitches spanning the area under my sternum and down between my breasts. My breath hitched while I fingered over the surrounding flesh, unable to comprehend Adam being so close to me, yet so far away.
I tilted my head toward the ceiling and a piece of paper caught my eye, affixed to the top of the mirror with a piece of cellophane tape. Tugging it free felt like it signified the end of something, something I had to come to grips with. My eyes brimmed as I unfolded it. It was a series of cartoon letters formed from puzzle pieces written in simple black ink.
You’ve always held my heart
As always, he’d initialed and dated the piece of artwork on the bottom. He’d left it the day he died, but he had no idea how poignant those words would be mere hours later. I couldn’t handle standing in the bathroom anymore.
Like the mother-in-law house, I punished myself by walking through each room to revisit the memories.
Where we’d argued at the table.
Where we’d played that silly question game.
Where we’d had sex on his bed.
Emotional exhaustion far exceeded the physical. I crawled onto the rumpled sheets and sobbed, clutching his pillow, his scent still irrefutably present.
Daveigh walked in the room a few minutes later and sat down next to me. Her frame made the mattress sink a few inches as she stroked my hair. “I wish I could take away your pain.”
I rested my head on her lap and let the tears freely fall as my shoulders heaved. No more holding back. It was finally time I told Daveigh the entire story. She needed to know everything about Adam and Tom, to get it off my chest, once and for all.