Goodbye to You (30 page)

“No. Of course not! Where is this coming from?”

“I have doubts about having kids, too. What we might pass on to them. Mental illness. Breast cancer. Do we stop living our lives because of this?”

I stand because a woman in a heap of tears on the floor is hardly a paragon of strength and fortitude. My knees buckle, but I manage to stay upright.

“That doesn’t matter, Thea. The only thing that matters is you.”

I cross my arms in front of my chest, attempting to block his kindness and devotion, because it could pierce the suit of armor I’m trying to don.

“You say that tonight. Will you feel the same in five years when I’m undergoing radiation, and my eggs shrivel and die? Don’t talk about things like you know how they’ll be in five years, or ten, or more.”

I turn my back on him. I’m done talking and can’t bear to look at him anymore. His tears shred my heart into bleeding strips.

“You should take your own advice and stop acting like you know what I think or what I’ll want in the coming years. You know nothing. I’ll never stop loving you. You’ll never stop loving me either.”

The floor creaks as he comes to stand behind me. He drops one last kiss on the top of my head. “Take care, Thea. I’ll think about you every day for as long as I live.”

Then he’s gone. Down the hall, through the door, and out of my life.

If this is what’s best—for him, for me—why the fuck does it hurt so damn much?

On the drive home, I play everything over and over in my head. One minute we’re making love, sweating and clinging to one another like tomorrow is a bump in the road on our lifetime of happiness together.

The next minute, she’s kicking me from the bed and out of her life.

All for fun. That’s what it should have been.

That’s what she said the night I found out about the surgery. It was more than fun though.

It was real. Is real.

Even though it’s late, I call Mr. McBride to tell him about Thea’s surgery tomorrow. She didn’t tell them when, and he’s glad I called. Another thing she’ll be angry with me for, but I don’t care.

If she thinks this act she’s putting on will keep me away, she has another thing coming.

She believes she’s protecting me from being trapped in a life I don’t want, with someone who may not be able to carry my children. I can’t think of a way to convince her I’m telling the truth, that I don’t care about those things. I want to be with her and never leave.

Unless she calls the cops on me for stalking. I hope it won’t come to that.

Tomorrow, she’ll understand how serious I am. How committed.

I told her before, I’m all in, and if that means changing dressings and checking stitches and convincing her nothing else matters except her, sign me up.

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

Boy, will she be pissed when she comes to in recovery and sees me there.

I pay the cabbie and grab my overnight bag from the seat. The parking here sucks, and I don’t want to hog a space for several nights or more in case of complications.

I pray for no complications.

I arrive early and enter through the emergency room, checking in at the receptionist’s desk.

The receptionist behind the desk points to the hallway. “Your friends are here.”

I take the nearest corridor to the Women’s Hospital, terrified I’ll find Shay. Instead, Bennie and Leesh sit in the waiting area.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” I rush over and hug both of them, thankful they’re here.

Bennie pulls back, eyes darting around. “Wait, where’s Shay? I thought he was coming with?”

She narrows her eyes at me, at my swollen eyes and blotchy skin.

“He—he couldn’t come.”

Leesh glares at me. “Thea, what did you do?”

I gaze at the ground. “Nothing. We decided things wouldn’t work out.”

Bennie steeples her fingers and points them at me. “
We
decided, T, or
you
decided?”

“What’s the difference? He wants something I may not be able to give him. You know, kids someday.”

“Crap, he said that?” Leesh’s eyes are as wide as dinner plates.

I stare at the ceiling. “No. He confirmed my suspicions when he talked about wanting kids, so I broke up with him.”

“Like hell. Were you a total bitch? Did you try to make him hate you? Because you suck at that.” My heart drops into my stomach as I recall the many times when Bennie and I were freshmen, and she had a habit of losing or ruining my things. I tried to be nasty to her at one point and failed miserably.

She’s right. I’m no good at mean, and I hope my efforts at full-frontal bitch improved over the last few years.

We check in at the nurse’s station and head to my sterile room. I change into the fabric gown and climb into bed. Nurses shuffle in and out, their rubber-bottomed shoes squeaking on the tile floor. I absentmindedly sign paperwork, the beeping of the monitors and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights echoing distantly. I’m like an outsider hovering above this scene.

Daddy and Jen come in, squeezing between Bennie and Leesh and hugging me tight. The nurse purses her lips but remains silent.

I hadn’t told Daddy or Jen what time my surgery is, but they’re here.

I narrow my eyes at Bennie and Leesh. “Did you call them?”

“No!” Their voices blend in unison.

Shay
.

He must have called earlier this week because he wouldn’t call after midnight.

Would he? Since I told him to go and stay away, he wanted to ensure I’m surrounded by people who love me and will take care of me.

The way he wanted to.

And I wouldn’t let him.

He’s protecting me, still, the way I think I’m protecting him.

He has no right. I guess the way it’s not my right to protect him either.

I am the biggest idiot in the world.

The anesthesiologist
and the surgeons come in, discussing the procedures again in detail.

Daddy turns his back while they mark my skin with the locations of the incisions. When they leave, he turns around and cracks knock-knock jokes to distract me, like when I was a kid.

The sedative is kicking in, and the punch lines barely register.

“Okay folks, we need to head to the OR.” A nurse rolls my bed to the door.

Jen covers her mouth with her hand, tears rolling down her cheeks. Another nurse lays a reassuring hand on Jen’s shoulder. “We’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

“Stop, Jen. This is a good thing.” I swipe my tears away.

“We’ll be a few hours. Why don’t you head out to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat, and we’ll come back with any news.”

My whole body shakes, and my stomach churns.

This is happening.

I wish I had Shay to hold my hand and tell me everything will be okay before I fell into unconsciousness.

The last thing I hear instead is my own voice: “What the hell have I done?”

I’ve never had general anesthesia, so I had no idea what to expect.

My throat is like the Sahara.

Right. The breathing tube.

The lights aren’t bright, but my eyes were closed for hours, and they refuse to open all the way. Through the slits I see a nurse, and from the sound of the beeping machines I think she’s taking my vitals.

“How’re you doing, love?”