From the moment Tyler told me why he was suffering from his headaches and his health had declined, I’ve become obsessed, learning everything I can. A cure. They cure diseases all the time. This is the twenty-first century. We have made great strides in medical advancement. Polio is nearly eradicated from the earth. AIDS is hardly spoken of anymore. And cancer isn’t always deadly if you identify it early on.
Except my stubborn-ass brother didn’t identify it early on. And when he finally saw a doctor about it, it was spiraling out of control. Inoperable. But not just inoperable—untouchable. None of the treatment options would touch it. I’d held out hope, albeit a tiny ass sliver, but I still had hope.
Until he showed me his brain scans. That shit is eating him alive. The growth from six months ago to three months ago was more than double. My stomach turns at knowing how much more it has grown since.
My big brother is going to die.
Soon.
He’s expressed his wishes to not spend his last days sicker than he already is, going through chemotherapy. I wanted to argue until I researched and realized it wouldn’t help anyway. He was right. It would simply tarnish his last days.
“Meow.”
I open my eyes and stare up at my ceiling. Last night, Casey didn’t take the news well. After she ran and locked herself in her room, I went and checked on her through the wall. She curled herself into a ball on the bed—still wearing the dress that made me want to pin her to the wall and rub my body against hers—and cried loud, ugly sobs.
It was heart-wrenching.
My soul still reverberates with the echoes of her cries.
Gutting. Emotional. Bleak.
Everything in me screamed to pass through the wall, climb onto her bed, and pull her into my arms. She needs comfort and strength. Tyler has been so good at providing that to her because I can’t.
What happens when he dies?
She’ll leave.
Panic rises in me like an epic tsunami ready to obliterate an entire country. Anxiety stabs at me. It rips me raw from the inside out. As if cued in to my distress, Misty, my favorite cat, hops on my chest and begins purring. Her claws retract in and out, catching on the fabric of my hoodie but not piercing my flesh below.
I yank at my weighted blanket and pull it on over my body, covering me and my cat. Her purring intensifies as she makes herself comfortable.
“Meow.”
My phone pings and I read an email with some detailed, much-needed information. I knew it. I knew that motherfucker Guy was blackmailing Tyler. And now I know exactly why. It means I’ll soon be shoveling money Guy’s way as well until I can figure out what to do about all of this.
“Meowwwww.”
My two other cats, Rainy and Foggy, join us on the bed. The quieter cat, Foggy, curls herself up near my head, her purring the white noise I need to clear my head. Rainy paces along the foot of my bed, looking for a good place to plant his fat ass. I move my legs and he finally settles between my spread calves. With my three cats purring in unison, I’m able to slow my racing heart. I’m able to think without letting the panic pull me under.
Casey.
My thoughts go back to her.
Beautiful, perfect Casey.
She’d love my cats, this I know. I want to tell her about them. I want to drag her into my part of the house and show her one of the few places I can just be. One of the few places where I’m calm and free. Yet, still, I keep her at arm’s length.
I fist my hands and close my eyes, gritting my teeth.
Misty meows again and digs her nails in deep, the threat of her sharp nails making my breath catch. If cats could talk, she’d say, “Calm the fuck down, Torin.”
I uncurl my fist and reach up to pet her. Her soft fur relaxes me. I stroke her until I find myself calming again. My mind conjures up fantasies of Casey lying beside me talking to my cats. Just the thought of her sweet, musical voice has my chest expanding with happiness.
She can’t leave.
I’ve felt better having her near. Like my body and my goddamned mouth aren’t working so hard against me. It’s like she holds the cure for me and all I need to do is lean forward and drink it all in.
My phone buzzes from my pocket. Hoping it’s Casey, I yank it from my pocket and swipe the screen. Misty meows her apparent annoyance at my undivided attention no longer being on her.
Tyler: What do I do?
It’s not often my brother asks me for advice.
Me: Don’t leave us.
My eyes burn like tears might come out, but they don’t. Emotion still has trouble escaping my body. It stays trapped in like steam in a kettle—except this kettle doesn’t have any openings for it to hiss from. This kettle is solid and metal and impenetrable. An explosion with no hope for bursting past its confines.
Tyler: I wish it were that simple. Fuck, how I do.
Me: Why didn’t you tell me until the day I found you in your bathroom puking your guts up?
Tyler: I just wanted to pretend it didn’t exist. That I didn’t have an expiration date.
Me: So, you were just going to die one day and not give me a goddamned explanation?
Tyler: Torin…I’m sorry.
Me: Is that why she’s here? For me?
Don’t lie, Tyler.
Tyler: The way you looked at her—really looked at her—that day at the clinic, I knew. She was the key to unlocking a part of you. She did it with one look. One second, Torin. She stole you from inside yourself and drew you out. It was fucking amazing. I wanted to do that for you always. Bring someone into your life who could help you better than the therapies ever could. When SHE came along, it was fate. Don’t you see? And then…
Me: She could take your place as my caretaker after you die.
Tyler: It’s more complicated than that.
Fuck yeah, it is. I’ve seen the documentation.
Me: So explain it.
Tyler: I thought you could love her.
I frown at his words, definitely not expecting him to say that. It distracts me from my thoughts as I run after other ones. Warmer ones. Happier ones. I know I love my brother. It’s just something logical and engrained. We’re brothers. Family. Best friends. When I think about him leaving me, my body physically aches. My heart fucking hurts. That’s love, right? The textbooks don’t explain love in a tangible way. It’s all theories and feelings and shit I can’t seem to put my fingers on and explore. But with Tyler, love makes sense. Logical sense.
With Casey, everything is different. And that, I don’t comprehend. She stifles my breath sometimes. Simply from looking at her. Like just her presence sucks the breath right from my lungs. My ears search the soundwaves on a hunt for a giggle or a sigh or her obsessive tapping. When she’s nearby, the hairs on my skin rise. A tingling sensation ripples across my flesh as though she carries an electric charge. Magnetic energy that makes my body react on a cellular level. Her scent is addictive. I’ve read about addicts. A cocaine addict desires the high. He snorts the substance into his nostrils and thrives on the way the overwhelming sensations surge through his bloodstream. That’s how it is with Casey. She’s a drug you want to snort and get hooked on. But it’s her taste that maddens me most. The day I licked her neck, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Salty from sweat but sweet. Oh, so fucking sweet. I couldn’t get enough of her. I wanted to sink my teeth in and bite her. Shit, I did bite her. I wanted to devour her because she’s so goddamned lovely.
Lovely.
Lovely.
Lovely.
She’s different. Beautiful and perfect and mine. But is she? I don’t understand how her mind works. When her blue eyes glitter with emotion, I don’t know what goes on inside her head. I want to cup her cheeks and beg for explanations, but I never do.
Tyler thought I could love her.
I don’t even know what love is.
But I could breathelicktastetouchsmellfeel her.
I could do that all damn day.
Me: I don’t know how to love.
Tyler: Love isn’t something you can control. It controls you. Fills you up and infects every part of you until all you can do is just live and breathe it every second of every day.
Me: Sounds like a disease.
Tyler: Love is a cure.