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On Monday morning, I wake Addison before I leave for work. She blinks her eyes into focus, and after settling them on me, she’s sitting up quickly.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Oh, no, everything’s okay.” I swallow thickly, barely able to get it down through the fear clogging my throat. “Matt wanted to meet with me this morning before he heads home, and I just... didn’t really want to do it alone.”
She grabs my hand and nods. “I’ll be right down.”
“Thank you.” My smile is weak as I get off the bed and exit the room.
I amble down the stairs, not in a hurry to get to the conversation that’s waiting for me. Matt’s already at the kitchen table, waiting. He sets his phone down with a smile when I come into the room.
“Coffee?” I ask him.
“That would be great, thanks.”
I get busy pouring us each a mug, as well as making Addison a cup of peppermint tea. Even though her morning sickness has mostly waned, the tea has become somewhat of a comfort for her. Matt and I are quiet as I work. He seems like a good guy. He previously shared with us that he’s only been working in hospice care for about a year but that it’s a fulfilling career. I’ve appreciated the fact that he’s helpful and knowledgeable, but he also knows when to take a step back and give Emily her space and independence—something even I can never seem to balance.
I’m just settling in at the kitchen table when Addison makes her way down the stairs.
“I made you some tea.” I nudge the cup on the table a little closer toward her empty seat.
“Thank you.” Her smile is small, and she turns it toward Matt as she sits down. “Hey, Matt.”
“Morning, Addison. Thanks for joining us.” He looks between the two of us. “So, I wanted to speak with you guys about how things are going with Emily. I know we discussed last week that she’s been slowing down, but I’ve noticed a very considerable change in her these past few nights, and Cassie says she’s sleeping quite a bit more during the day and not eating much. She’s had some bouts of confusion, too, and I don’t need to tell you how frail she’s getting.”
He pauses to take a sip of his coffee, and I wonder if that’s for our benefit or if he’s struggling to get it all out. His words are matter-of-fact, but the strain on his face is apparent. This can’t be easy news to deliver.
I risk a glance at Addison. She looks stricken, her frown hitting me square in the chest. I hate to see her sad, especially knowing that in a fucked-up way, I’m the cause of it. I reach out and grab her hand, hoping it gives her some comfort—hoping it offers me some as well—but she doesn’t meet my gaze.
I love Addison. I love the life we’re building together. I can’t wait for our son to join our family. But I also recognize what I’ve done by being with her. The sadness I’ve brought into her life. The chaos. She’s not only sacrificed to be with me, uprooting her whole life to live here, but I also encouraged a friendship between her and Emily. And now she has to lose her.
“There’s no easy way to say this, but we’re getting to the end,” Matt continues delicately. “I have another nurse who will be covering the nights I’m not here, so there will always be one of the three of us available to help out. If Cassie’s on shift and thinks it’s necessary for me to be here, she’ll call me in. So just know you won’t be alone in this.”
I nod stiffly, but my throat is too tight to force words through.
“Now’s the time to tie up loose ends, and you know, slow things down. Spend time with her, talk to her as best you can. More than likely, she won’t be very lucid at the end, so take advantage of this last bit of time you have together.”
“How much longer do we have?” I ask shakily.
“Not long.” His words are quiet. “Maybe a week or two.”
A strangled gasp comes from beside me, but I can’t look at her. I can’t see the pain I put in her eyes by bringing her into this mess. How could I have done that? Gotten her in this situation and made her suffer alongside me. How fucking selfish could I be?
Matt clears his throat and leans forward slightly. I focus on his fingers as they grip his coffee mug because it’s easier than meeting his eyes.
“One thing I really try to remind families of is that this time is about her. I don’t mean to be insensitive, because I understand your journey through this is important too, but let’s keep the focus on her transition. Making sure she’s comfortable should be the goal for all of us. That means not pushing her to eat or drink if she doesn’t want to. Not forcing difficult and painful conversations if she starts to appear upset by them. Say what you need to say, but do your best not to agitate her. Some people aren’t themselves at the end, so know that if she does get upset, she might say things she doesn’t mean, and you just gotta roll with the punches. Leave the room, take a break, do whatever you need to.”
He reaches into his bag and pulls out a pamphlet. “This is a lot to process right now, but there are some grief and mental health services listed here. I know you refused counseling services when she first started hospice, and I don’t want to push you, but I thought I’d make sure you have this info. Just in case.”
Matt holds it out and Addison takes it, murmuring her thanks. He looks between the two of us like he expects us to say something, but when we’re both quiet, he starts to rise. “Well, I’ll go ahead and head out. I’ll push through the paperwork for the new nurse to start, and you have my number if you need anything at all.” He taps the back of his chair and then turns to walk away.
I stare at his retreating form until he disappears through the foyer, still staring when I hear the sound of the front door closing behind him.
Addison squeezes my hand tightly. “Chase,” she says quietly. “Do you want to talk?”
I want to offer her comfort, because I’m sure she needs it, but I’m a host of emotions I can’t seem to sort through. The only thing that seems to push through is the pain. It wraps itself around my brain and pulses with the need to be felt, blocking out all helpful and tangible thoughts.
I push my chair back abruptly, letting Addison’s hand slide out of mine, and I go to work.
