The sun is out, and it’s making the curtains glow. I know I should get out of bed to live my life, but right now I don’t feel as though I have one.

I close my eyes to shut out the world, to wallow in my misery a bit longer. Under the covers it’s just me and my pain. I guess it’s the one thing I can completely count on to stick around.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could erase the past from my mind. But it refuses to back off, taunting me every second of each day.

The doorbell rings, but I ignore it. I’m not expecting anyone. When you’re sick and divorced, people who used to call you friend suddenly disappear.

The bell continues to ring and I continue to ignore it. I know who it is. Once she gets tired of ringing the bell, she’ll let herself in. And she does.

I groan as I listen to her padding up the stairs. Every time she visits, she rings the damn bell until it gives me a headache. It’s her way of trying to get me to move.

“You need to get out of bed and out of the house,” my sister Olivia says in her husky voice. I used to envy that voice when I was a teenager. Everyone thought it was so sexy.

“What for?” I murmur into the pillows.

“To live out your second chance. Don’t give up on your life, Celine. You’re only thirty-three.”

Guilt stabs me in the gut. She’s right. I beat cancer while many people never do. But why do I feel as though I’m still dying?

“I won’t let you do this to yourself.” Olivia yanks the flowery bed sheet from my body. “Your life is waiting to be lived.”

I curl up into a ball, my eyes still closed. If only she could understand. There’s nothing in the world I want to do more than live. But first I need to grieve for the life I used to have. I don’t think I can move forward unless I do.

“This is not about the cancer,” I say, finally opening my eyes.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Olivia perches on the edge of the bed and takes my hand in hers. She’s always had cold hands, both in cold and warm temperatures. “Don’t you think he’s done enough to mess up your life?”

He has. One year ago, Dennis Whitefield tore my heart out of my chest and shredded it. He was my first, the only man I’ve ever been with. We met during my first year in college and got married right after graduation. I was a fool to think we had a happy marriage. Till death do us part, in sickness and in health…all lies. I guess he didn’t mean the vows when he said them.

As devastated as I was to be told I had leukemia, the pain could never compare to my husband telling me later that night that he didn’t think he could handle it. A month later, he filed for divorce. Two months after that, he started dating again. Talk about kicking someone when they’re down.

During the months I spent fighting the cancer alone, I didn’t have the time to grieve the end of my marriage. And now that the cancer is gone, it’s hitting me like a bolt of lightning. My doctor gave me the all-clear a month ago, and I’m still paralyzed, spending each day buried under the covers, afraid to go out of the house in case I see Dennis, even though I heard he and his girlfriend travel a lot.

“He didn’t deserve you, sis,” Olivia says in a gentle voice. “Don’t give up your life because of him. You’re only thirty-three. You have so much more to live for.”

I open my eyes then and look at my sister, taking in her heart-shaped face, the bright blue eyes, the cute mole on her chin. It warms my heart to know I still have her.

“I do want to start living again, but I don’t know how to. I kind of forgot, I think.”

“Let me help you.” Olivia’s face lights up. “How about this year we go to the mall on Christmas Eve? I heard Santa is coming to town again”

I smile for the first time in a while. “We’re no longer kids, Olivia.”

“So what? We could pretend to be kids for one day.” She nudges me. “Come on, it could be fun. Christmas lights have a way of cheering people up. We could have dinner together. It’s been a while since we went out.”

“I don’t feel like celebrating.”

She tries to talk me into going to the mall again, but I stand my ground. I don’t want to be a burden to her. I want her to enjoy Christmas without having to deal with my issues.

In the end, she gives up and tells me she’s going to the bakery.

“I’ll be back to work on Monday,” I promise her.

We happen to be a family of bakers. Our parents opened up the family bakery—The Cake Boutique—the year they got married. After they left town four years ago, to enjoy the rest of their lives in Hawaii, they transferred the business to us. Olivia and I decided to stop baking breads and cookies and focused on wedding cakes.

Unlike me, Olivia has never been especially passionate about running a bakery. For years, she talked about leaving town to move to the big city. Her plans were put on hold when I got sick. I’ll have to pull myself together soon so she can live her life. At twenty-eight she has a lot ahead of her.

“Hey, that’s great. I miss working with you.”

Before Olivia leaves, she makes me breakfast in bed and heads to work.

As soon as she’s gone, I drag myself out of bed and walk out onto the balcony, watching the waves crashing against the shore. This used to be the perfect view. Dennis and I used to sit out here for hours at night. Sometimes we would run out to swim naked in the sea. We usually ended up making love under the waves.

Olivia was right, he did not deserve me. Which means he does not deserve any more of my tears.

I head over to my closet and pull out the only shirt he left behind. It’s charcoal gray and wrinkled from me burying my face into it when I cried for him.

Without thinking, I take it to the bathroom and pull out a pair of scissors. The next thing I know, I’m still holding the scissors, but the shirt is lying in shreds at my feet.

Instead of feeling relief at having destroyed something that belonged to him, I burst out crying. When I’m done, I stare at myself in the mirror.

Once upon a time, I had long, flowing red hair and bright eyes. The damn cancer has taken my hair and Dennis stole the sparkle in my eye. But maybe I could get both of them back one day.

I sink to the bathroom floor and allow myself to cry one more time.