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This is all my fault.
This is God punishing me for doing the wrong thing.
I get a vision of Simon outside my apartment that night, and the tears in his eyes as I told him I was in love with Brock.
I didn’t even have the decency to ask him in.
I was too wrapped up in myself—in my own selfish needs to think about his feelings.
He didn’t fight. He was too hurt. He never thought he would hear those words coming out of my mouth. Neither did I.
And then I went over and met Brock’s family without a second thought for Simon or what he was going through. What kind of person does that?
When did I get so cold?
I put my head into my hands in despair.
Dear God, if you’re out there, if you exist…
Please don’t let this be happening.
Not Simon. Not my beautiful Simon.
Take me instead.
You can have me, just don’t take him.
The tears roll down my face. “Are you okay, dear?” the stewardess asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I turn to her, startled. I nod, devoid of emotion. “Yes, sorry,” I murmur to her as I wipe my tears away. The man sitting next to me gives me a sympathetic smile. I know he’s concerned about me too.
She passes me a blanket. “Why don’t you try and have another sleep?”
I nod and spread the blanket over myself. I recline my seat. The last thing I can do is sleep, but I don’t want them fussing over me. They’ve been watching me do this for eighteen hours now, and I’m sure they think I’m on the edge of a break down.
Maybe I am.
The man puts his hand over my mine on the table between us. “It will be all right.”
I nod, and my eyes fill with tears again. Please don’t be nice to me. I just can’t deal with someone being nice to me. I deserve to be treated with disdain.
My mind goes to Brock, my king. He bought me a first-class ticket and took me to the airport. Not an argument or a derogatory comment to be heard. He was worried about Simon, too. He’s a good guy.
God, I love him.
The kind man next to me takes my hand in his. “I’ll hold your hand while you sleep,” he whispers.
I smile softly, my faith in the human race restored. “Thank you.”
I pull up my blanket, close my eyes, and with the warmth of a stranger’s hand against mine, I drift towards my nightmares.
“He’s in room two-one-six.” The kind nurse smiles.
I walk up and peer through the window in the door.
Simon is in bed, his father is by the window, and his mother is sitting beside him in a chair. They look so sombre.
I close my eyes as I try to prepare myself. You can do this.
I slowly walk into the room. Simon’s face lights up and I smile. “Hi, Si.”
His mother and father stand and rush to me, holding me tight. I can feel their fear through their embrace.
“Hi.” I smile, despite my tears.
I walk over to Simon, bend, and take him into my arms. He looks so sick and feels so weak, and all the pep talks I gave myself about being strong are thrown out of the window. I sob out loud. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper.
We cling to each other for an extended time. The horror before us way too real.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I turn to them.
“He’s having blood transfusions as we try to get his blood count up,” his mother says softly. “He’s very tired.”
I nod. “Okay.” I take his hand in mine and stare down at him.
“Lie with me, Tull,” he whispers.
The lump in my throat is so big, I don’t think I can stop myself from sobbing out loud again. I nod, scared to speak. I kick off my shoes and I climb onto the bed beside him, holding him tight.
“We’ll give you some time alone,” his mother says.
“I’ll stay with him tonight,” I tell them.
They glance at each other.
“Mum, go to the hotel and get some sleep,” Simon says. “Tully’s here now, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” he whispers, his eyes stay fixed on my face.
His parents eventually leave, and we lie in the dimly lit room, face to face, just like we have so many times before. I run my fingers through his hair as I try to will him to sleep. He’s too weak to talk for too long.
“I love you, Tully,” he whispers so softly that I can barely hear him.
“I love you, Si.” I cup his face, and in this moment, I do love Simon. For everything that we’ve been through together and everything that we taught each other. “You’re my best friend.” I smile softly.
“Kiss me,” he whispers through tears, and I know his time with me may be coming to an end.
