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“A live wake.” He nodded proudly. “For this Saturday. I’ve invited all the guys from college, and a few other people. Nothing big, just something I would rather do while I can enjoy it, rather than when I’m in the ground.”
I cringed. I hated it when he spoke like that. “Is this on your list?” I asked, skimming the details. My eyes widened as I read the last line. “Fancy dress? Come as your favorite terminal illness? You’re got to be fucking kidding me, man.” I groaned. That was so . . . morbid.
“What?” He chuckled, obviously enjoying my reaction. “Don’t you remember all the parties we had in college?”
“The parties you had. At our place, while I tried to study over the noise,” I corrected him. “And yes, I remember. How the hell could I forget you and your fucked up parties?”
“So this shouldn’t surprise you, then,” he said, winking at me. He turned to Marta. “You’re welcome to join us, too.”
“I honestly cannot think of a worse way to spend my Saturday night,” she replied, her voice sour. Andy rolled his eyes and turned to Em, who had said nothing for the last few minutes. She stood up and walked out of the room.
I wanted to go after her and make sure she was okay, but it felt weird. Andy should be the one checking in on her, not me. I waited until it was obvious he wasn’t planning on doing that.
“Dude, I think she’s upset,” I said.
He shrugged. “So go check on her.”
I stared at him, shocked by his indifference. What the hell was going on with him?
“Marta, can you push me out to the deck,” he muttered. She nodded and walked around to the back of his chair. I watched as she pushed him outside, then came back in and closed the door behind her.
“What was all that about?” I muttered, more to myself than her.
> “The cancer is eating away at him, Seth. These personality changes are common with late-stage cancer. Go and speak to Emily. Make sure she knows that this isn’t about her. It’s just the progression of his disease.”
I nodded. It made sense. The cancer had changed his physical abilities so much, but it hadn’t occurred to me the effect it would be having on his brain. Kicking my chair back, I stood up.
I found Em lying on her bed, staring at the wall, clutching her notebook to her chest. Her face was wet—tear-stained—her dark hair floating freely around her face. I sat down on the bed and reached out, gently swatting aside strands of her hair.
“Em, are you okay?” I asked, my hand resting on her shoulder.
“It’s like he’s trying to make this harder,” she whispered. “I feel like he wants to hurt me.”
I sat down and scooped her into my arms, sitting her up next to me. “Em, when he’s like that it’s not Andy talking. Cancer is fucked up and it’s not fair. But you’ve just got to remember that he loves you, and would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”
She smiled, her arms tightening around me. “I know. And I know it’s selfish of me when he’s the one dying, but I just don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what to say, or how to act. I just feel like I’m the mess and everyone is trying to hold me together.”
“And that’s okay,” I whispered, kissing her temple. “Because nobody is denying that this is just as hard for you to go through. Andy will die and you’ll still be here. The world won’t stop moving, even though you might feel your world has. That’s an incredibly hard thing to work through.”
“When my parents died, it was you and Andy who got me through it. I just don’t know if I can do it all over again.” She turned to me, her eyes wide with fear. “What if I lose you too?”
I held her close to me, my heart breaking for her. If only she knew how much I loved her, and how I would do anything to make her feel happiness again. I’d give everything for this girl. I’d give my life if it meant seeing her smile.
“I’ve told you, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Emily
He was much quieter today. As often as he kept telling me that he was feeling better, I wasn’t sure that I believed him. He’d slept nearly the whole half-hour drive to our destination, only waking just as we arrived. I shot Seth a confused look as we pulled up outside a ranch. He just shrugged.
“This the right place?” he asked, peering at Andy through the rearview mirror.
“Yep. Drive down toward that barn,” he said. As we continued along the dirt driveway, we passed a sign that read Stanton’s Bulls. Breeders since 1887. My stomach dropped. Bulls?
He was crazy if he thought I was going to get on a bull.
“Andy,” I began, biting my lip. “What are we doing at a bull farm?”
