Derek

I’ve never needed a weight room so badly. The urge to lift heavy, to grind out a workout so intense I can’t move the next day, is so strong I can feel it in every cell of my body.

“I love you, even though I’ve never been good at saying it,” Matias says weakly. Erin transcribes every word onto the top page of the notebook in her lap. “I’m still better at basketball, though. And you’re still a douchebag.”

His lips tilt up in a smile as he thinks about the letter he’s dictating to one of his brothers. Thank fuck, this is the last one of the letters he’s doing for each of the four of them. He did his parents first, and listening to that ripped me apart inside.

I need to feel my muscles burning with exertion. To squat weight so heavy I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand back up.

“Love, Matias,” he finishes.

Erin sets down the pen and gives him a forced smile. “You did great.”

“You guys can feel free to make shit up, too. Tell my family I was a total badass who ran into a burning room to save a bunch of kittens or something.”

I lean forward in the chair I’m sitting in beside his bed. “You are a badass, man. One of the strongest people I’ve ever known.”

Matias’s smile reaches his eyes. “Will you get my family Dolphins tickets when you get out of here?”

“I’m still planning on getting you Dolphins tickets, pro. And they’re all included in that.”

His happy expression fades. “I can feel things changing inside me. It’s all I can do to stay awake for a few hours a day anymore. And sometimes, I’m not even thirsty.”

“None of that means anything,” Erin says, reaching for his hand. “There are no quitters down here, Matias. You have to stay strong.”

“It’ll be time to stop fighting soon.” He squeezes her hand. “And it’s okay.”

I could knock down an entire team right now. The bitter sadness coursing through my veins needs an outlet. I can’t let it show in front of Matias, though. Erin has to be holding it together through sheer force of will, too.

When Matias asked if he could dictate these letters to her, she didn’t hesitate to say yes. Even though she puts on a good face for him, she knows his condition is worsening. He seems to be hanging in a state where his mind is good and his energy level still allows him to be awake for several spurts a day, but the swelling has gotten bad. His body is building up waste. It’s only a matter of time now.

“When you guys get out of here, tell my Grandma Rosa I wanted my last meal to be her tamales, will you?”

Erin turns to me, and I see her weariness from holding back her feelings for the past two hours as we sat here. I thought the least I could do was sit beside her as she did this sad task.

“It’s time for your water,” I tell Matias, standing up. “You need anything else, man?”

He shakes his head, his eyelids looking heavy.

Erin follows me out of the room, closing the door behind us. She goes across the great room to the kitchen, where she sets the notebook and pen on the counter and then braces both hands against the surface and cries.

I’m heading across the room to comfort her, but Kenna beats me to it. She surprises the hell out of me by putting a palm on Erin’s back.

“That was a great thing you just did,” she says.

Erin nods through her tears.

“I’ll take your next shift with him,” Kenna offers.

“You don’t have to.” Erin steps away from the counter and wipes her cheeks.

“I know. I want to. Go get some sleep, okay? He’s not going anywhere for at least a couple days.”

“How do you know?” Erin’s voice shakes with emotion.

“I volunteered at a hospice place in college. There are signs when death is imminent, and I don’t see them in him yet.”

“What are they?” Erin turns to face Kenna.

“They refuse food and drink. Their skin can take on a mottled look. Then they fade away, start breathing slower and slower. Eventually, they stop.”

“Will he…suffer?” Erin’s emotional tone guts me.

“I really don’t think so,” Kenna says. “It may take a while, because he’s so young and his heart is strong, as far as we know.”

Erin nods.

“Go sleep,” Kenna says again. “I promise things won’t be any different when you wake up.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Erin heads for the bedroom, and I don’t follow. She needs the kind of deep, uninterrupted sleep she’ll get alone. It’s been a while since she slept through the night, and every time she wakes up, she goes to check on Matias.

I sink down onto the couch, noticing that Bryce is sitting stoically on the other end. Matias’s condition is taking a toll on all of us.

“You okay, man?” I ask him.

Bryce snaps out of the trance he was in and looks at me. “I missed my youngest daughter’s birthday yesterday. She turned ten.”

“I’m sorry. What’s her name?”

“Ella. She loves butterflies.”

I’m emotionally tapped out, my well of comforting words dry. The physical part of being trapped down here is nothing compared to how it fucks with all of us mentally.

I’m all my dad has. Who will be there for him now, as he reaches old age? Where will he go on Christmas?

I sit back against the couch and cover my face with my hands. There’s not much hope for escaping your thoughts down here. My only solace is Erin, but with Matias so sick, we feel guilty finding pleasure in each other.

Time seems to be frozen here. There’s no sunrise or sunset. No rainy days. No way to know what’s happening above ground to the people we love.

Time’s not frozen for Matias, though. And when he slips out of this world, a part of all our hopes will die with him. Leaving this place someday, unlikely as it may be, won’t feel nearly as good as a group of four instead of five.