Page 120 of What Should Have Been Ours

Gabrielle shakes her head harder, her breathing coming too fast. “That’s not—it can’t be—”

“Gab,” I try to interrupt, but she doesn’t stop.

“Please,” she begs, her voice breaking, her grip on me tightening like she’ll be able to anchor me here by sheer force. “Please, just tell me there’s something else.”

I hate this.

I hate that she’s the one pleading. That she’s the one suffering while I sit here in a daze, barely able to feel anything at all.

The doctor sighs, pained by this conversation. “The only thing we can do now is make sure you are comfortable, Cameron. We can focus on palliative care, pain management—”

I stop listening again as Gabrielle lets out a strangled sob beside me, and my mom turns into my dad’s chest, her body trembling.

I sit still.

So still.

I think I nod. I don’t really know.

The doctor stays a little longer, explaining things, but I’m not absorbing a single syllable. My mind is somewhere else.

Six months to a year.

That’s it?

I should’ve known. I did know.

I knew this could happen. I knew my odds. I knew my body had already been pushed to the brink.

But knowing it in theory is different from hearing it spoken out loud. It’s different having to watch the woman I love beg for more time that I don’t have.

I glance down at my lap, only able to focus on the way Gabrielle’s hand trembles against mine. My throat is too dry to swallow. My heart is too heavy to beat properly.

It all feels too suffocating.

I’ve given this news out countless times. Now I’m on the receiving end.

Just like that, my expiration date is set.

51

Gabrielle

This isn’t happening.

It can’t be happening.

The words won’t sink in, they refuse to stick. They just bounce around my skull, sharp and violent and wrong.

I’m gripping Cam’s hand so tightly my fingers feel like they might snap, but he isn’t squeezing back. He’s just sitting there. Still. Silent. Frozen.

Why isn’t he squeezing back?

The doctor’s voice feels distant, and muffled.

“The marrow didn’t graft properly.”

“The transplant failed.”