Now that I’m really dying, I feel less emotion, less of the hurt I’m causing, less of my own pain I’m enduring. I just feel less. Romance is not important to me. Companionship will only hurt the other half. Even friendships need to be put on a permanent hold. Right now, I need to be alone with my thoughts, which is ironic, since I will likely be alone with my thoughts for an infinite amount of time if that’s how it all works. I wish I could fall asleep with this long, drawn-out image of the perfect love story, but from the first day Hunter kissed me, I knew it was to heal him, even if I felt every second of it. When there is no future to consider, it’s hard to feel a normal kind of love like people typically feel when developing a relationship, so instead I have cherished the time I’ve gotten to know Hunter and the amazing man he is and will always be. While our relationship was never about the normal things most couples need, I’ve gotten so much out of us, even if it ended quickly.

I pushed him away, so hard, but in return he pushed my brick wall down and grabbed a hold of me, refusing to let go. I made him reconnect with the woman he put aside for this heart in my body. I made him see that this heart is not meant for longevity but for memory keeping. I made him see that this heart is not tangible, therefore, it will always be here in both thoughts and memories, even if the body carrying it is gone.

Now I’m here, lying in a hospital bed on Christmas. My last Christmas. It was the day after Christmas just six years ago that I was given a second chance at life. Six years was a gift. This year, my gift is to relieve those who love me from the fears they live through day after day. Soon, there will be no more tears for my parents when the phone rings in the middle of the night. Soon they won’t have to wonder what the next doctor's appointment will bring. Soon, they will be able to slowly begin to heal and start a life without living in a constant state of worry.

Hunter is going to get his second chance. His real second chance. He has a woman who loves him and a daughter who looks at him like he’s her world. I’m going to leave this world knowing I’m leaving behind a man who is less broken than he was, and a family that will finally have a chance to rebuild their life. It’s all I could ask for this Christmas.

A knock on my hospital door surprises me since I wasn’t expecting Hunter and company so soon today. He mentioned they’d be here around noon and it’s only ten. Mom and Dad just left for a little while and told me they’d be back after lunch. When the door opens, the curiosity I had, turns into shock.

“Piper?” I croak.

“I am so mad at you, Ari. So mad at you!” she cries out, running to my side. “How could you?”

I smile faintly, using as much energy as I can. “I wasn’t about to ruin your fairy tale,” I tell her.

“You lied to me every time I’ve talked to you,” she argues. “Were you not planning to say goodbye to me?” She’s in tears, and she’s hugging me so tightly it hurts.

“Goodbyes are harder,” I tell her.

“That’s not for you to decide, Ari,” she cries. “That’s not fair. How much longer do you have?”

“Should be any time now, according to the doctors,” I tell her.

“Why are you talking like you’re waiting for your cab to arrive?” She’s nearly scolding me, and I understand because I don’t expect her to understand the lack of feelings I have right now. Beyond the mind-numbing medications they are pumping through me, it’s hard to feel much else. There’s no purpose in feeling much else. I’m determined to feel nothing at all and just wait for my ride to arrive, as Piper put it.

“It’s just the way it has to be,” I tell her. “How did you find out?”

“I came home for a bit and wanted to surprise you, but found your Dad working at the shop, and he told me what was going on,” she explains.

“Me too,” a voice says from the door. I hardly recognize the voice but after a long second, I do know it, as well as the scent, and then his face.

“Dax,” I say quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dad kind of has a big mouth, and then I ran into Piper, who has a bigger mouth.” His smile fades after his words end and he shakes his head with either shame or despair. The despair part is something I’m used to seeing; the shame part, I’m not. He has nothing to be ashamed of, though. I pushed him away just like I push everyone away. It’s for their sake, not mine. “Did you know it would be so soon?”

I shrug a little. “My life has always felt more temporary than what I would have liked it to feel. I didn’t have definite answers until six months ago, but I kind of just knew, I guess.”

He nods again. What is there to say to a girl who’s about to die? I’m used to that too, being the one who has to carry conversations to make everyone else feel more comfortable. I can’t control how I make everyone feel, but I can try to ease the pain, even if it’s only a little.

Piper and Dax both stood side by side, staring at me for almost thirty minutes. I hate goodbyes. I hate them so much for this reason. “I’m getting a little tired,” I tell them. That seems to do the trick. Never have I been so rude, but I can’t take too many more elongated goodbyes.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, and the next day, and—”

“Piper,” I interrupt her. “Say goodbye.” I swallow the knot in my throat, trying to push it back where it belongs.

“No!” she cries. “You’re not going anywhere.”

I force a smile, not because I don’t want to smile but because it’s hard to smile. Wrapping my arms loosely around her, I hush her sobs. She has to live with this goodbye, I don’t.

There is no telling whether I’ll be here tomorrow, but I’ve always heard you just know when your time is up. I feel it today. I’m at peace with it today. “I love you,” I tell her.

Dax helps her up and sits her down on the chair beside my bed as he switches spots with her. “Listen to me, you stubborn girl,” he says, smiling widely. “You will always be the one who got away. I have never wanted to be with someone as much as I wanted to be with you, and you will always have that too. I was angry with you for a long time after that night, and it’s taken me up until now to see how selfless you are. This hurts like hell, Ari, and God, if you had let me fall in love with you any more than I already did, I’m not sure I’d be able to make it through this right now. It’s not going to be easy, no matter what, but damn, I feel lucky to have been a part of your life, even for the short amount of time you allowed it. You’re something else.” The last of his words get caught in his throat, and it breaks through my numbing pain barrier.

“I really, really liked you, Dax. I wanted things to be different, but I’ve seen what this kind of heartbreak can do, and I refuse to put anyone through that, especially you. You know what I want from you?”

“Anything, just name it.”

“Find a girl, make her yours, treat her like you were going to treat me, and for both of us…find happiness.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on my cheek and then takes Piper by the arm. “Goodbye,” I offer. The two of them look at me with emptiness, both refusing to return my goodbye.

After Piper and Dax leave, it’s only minutes before Hunter and his family show up. We go through similar conversations but Olive, Hunter’s daughter—the little miracle that preceded Ellie’s heart, sits down on my bedside and tells me about her birthday wish.

“Today is Christmas, you know,” she says.

“I know it,” I say with a small grin. “Did you get anything nice from Santa this morning?”

She shrugs. “Just the norm, but tomorrow is my birthday, and you know what that means?”

“Cake,” I say with as much excitement as I can.

“And Daddy said we can have a birthday party here so we can celebrate me and your heart.” I look over at Hunter, sad that he told Olive she could celebrate here tomorrow, given that I don’t know what tomorrow will bring if there even is one for me. But he looks at me with a reassuring look. How is he so sure?

Olive gives me a kiss and hugs me tightly before hopping off the bed. I’m terrified of breaking that little heart of hers.

Hunter leans over and kisses me on the forehead. “How are you doing today?”

I give him a look I know he understands. “I don’t know about tomorrow,” I tell him quietly. “I have a gift for her, and I was going to give it to her today.”

“You can give it to her tomorrow,” he says.

“Hunter,” I argue.

“Don’t argue with me. Ellie wouldn’t let that happen—not on Christmas, and not on Olive’s birthday. I know this.”

Hunter reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a tiny gift wrapped in green paper. “Here. Open it.”

“Why would you be wasting money on a gift for me now?” I ask, trying to laugh but not succeeding.

Hunter bites down on his lip, I think to stop the tremble in his jaw. “Open it.”

I tear off the paper, and inside is a tiny locket, not a new one, though. I open it and find a picture of Hunter on one side and a picture of Ellie on the other. “It was Ellie's,” he explains. “The heart symbolizes our love while she was alive, but now it symbolizes her heart and the unity it has brought the three of us. I want you to keep it on you.” Without saying the words, I know what he means.

“I will make sure I’m buried with this,” I tell him. I didn’t mean for it to sound as awful as it sounded, but what other way is there to say it?

He loses it a little and this goodbye, even if just for today, became a little easier.