Relentless Hope (Resilient Hearts) (11 page)

His mention of the word “wedding” makes me uncomfortable again, unconsciously making me cringe. Seeing my expression, David takes a shaky breathe. “I understand that the idea makes you uncomfortable, but think about it. This should really help with your family. If I marry you, I can send your dad a letter making it clear that I care about his daughter and that I expect him to leave you alone. I could also offer to send Shane to rehab. If that comes from your husband, it would be very different than coming from a guy they think you live with… Plus, that would be the only way to guarantee you can stay by my side on my last days. That’s probably selfish of me, but I would really like to have someone that actually cares about me by my side when I’m dying. You’ve seen Tom, he would probably raise havoc either way, but Lou seems to think the only way to guarantee Tom can’t keep you away from me is if you’re my wife.”

I know how difficult it is for David to admit he needs someone, let alone say that to their face. Him asking me this takes a lot out of him. I look into his conflicted pale eyes and remember everything he’s done for me. How he saved my life, gave me a job and a place to stay when everybody else was shutting every single door on my face. How he had a heart attack just last week when he tried to come look for me to make sure I’m okay, and how even now in his crippling state, he’s thinking how to make my life comfortable after he’s gone. I gaze into his frail face seeing his vulnerability, and I know I can’t say no him, can’t deny this one request he’s made of me.

I hold my fists tight trying to stop my hands from trembling and close my eyes, taking a shaky breath. I can’t believe what I’m about to say, but I force my lips open and say it before I change my mind. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do what?” He asks in surprise.

“I’ll marry you,” I whisper.

His jaw drops, his pupils getting big. “You don’t have to decide so fast. Just think about it. I know this is a big decision. I just want you to give it some serious thought.”

“I’ll do it,” I repeat. “I don’t need to think about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure,” I lie. I know if I take any time to think this through, I’ll back out, so I open my mouth and say the words that will change the course of my life forever. “Let’s do it. I’m ready as soon as you are.”

W
e get married two days later at a somber
cere
mony in David’s living room. He asked me if I wanted a dress or flowers, or wanted to set something up in the backyard. My answer to all those questions was a resounding no. I didn’t want anything that would make this charade feel like a real wedding. The less it resembled a real wedding, the less I had to face the reality of the situation. I was getting into a sham marriage with a seventy eight year old dying man who had become my closest friend.

Throughout the short ceremony, all I can think about is how this is so different than anything I had envisioned my wedding day to be. The irony of my situation doesn’t escape me. I ran away from parent’s house to get out of being forced into a loveless marriage with an older man, and now I am doing exactly the same thing on my own free will.

I keep telling myself that this is not comparable to what would have happened to me had I stayed home. That there are legitimate reasons for doing this and it is temporary. That David is a good man who actually cares about me, and I’m doing this in return for everything he has done for me, but I can’t keep my heart from being shredded at the thought of my wedding day resembling this. I catch David’s concerned eyes on me and realize that my face must be an open book to all the devastation I feel inside. So I plaster a fake small on my lips and bite the inside of my mouth hard to stop the tears from flowing.

The ceremony moves fast and before I know it, it’s my turn to say my vows. For some reason right when the minister asks me to repeat my vows after him, I picture Aiden’s face in my mind and what his reaction will be when he hears this, and the thought breaks my heart into a million shattered pieces. I stifle a sob, swallowing over the huge lump in my throat, and repeat the words in a trembling voice.

When it’s time to put the rings on, David reaches into his pocket and pulls a small red velvet box, taking out a vintage looking gold wedding ring with a big yellow diamond in the middle.

“This ring has been in my family for a very long time,” he says, while putting the ring on my finger, “and I can’t think of anyone better to give it to. I want you to keep it after I’m gone. Please don’t ever sell it or give it away. It’s a family heirloom for us.”

“I shouldn’t have this then. You should give it to your daughter or granddaughters.”

“I want you to have it,” he says firmly.

The gesture warms my heart, reminding of why I care so much for this man and why I decided to do this in the first place, so I swallow my pain, drown my misery, and force myself to look happy.

After the short ceremony, I move my stuff into David’s room, as we have to give the semblance of a real marriage. Thankfully since coming back from the hospital, David has been sleeping in a hospital grade bed that they’ve put in a corner of the huge master bedroom, leaving the king size bed for me to use.

That night hours after David falls asleep, I lie awake in bed staring at the ceiling and thinking how different this is from anything I imagined my wedding night to be. I wonder why it is that no matter how hard I try I can’t get my life on a normal track. Why is it that every sliver of hope I relentlessly hold on to is eventually stolen from my grasp?

Why couldn’t my family just leave me alone? Why can’t David’s for that matter? All I’ve done all my life has been to play by the rules, work hard and try to be kind to everyone around me and in return I get burned over and over again.

My family thinks I’m a selfish whore and David’s think I’m a gold-digger slut. I can’t imagine what they think of me now. I wonder why is it that people think they can judge others based on preconceived notions. They’re not in my head, not living my life. How can they judge me when they haven’t walked my journey? How can they assume they know what motivates me, and worse how can they justify coming after me and attacking me based on those assumptions? The thoughts break my heart over and over again. I bury my head under the blanket to stifle the sounds of my sobs, and surrender to the waves of agony overtaking my body.

I’m stumbling along the hallway trying to make my way
down-stairs
for lunch when I notice a somber looking Aiden sitting in one of the chairs in the living room. He has both of his hands covering his face.

I stand rooted to the floor for a few seconds slowly taking in his magnificent presence. The sight of him still takes my breath away, but this time, the feeling is combined with a nausea inducing anxiety, as I dread his reaction to the marriage. I think about chickening out and walking right back to my room to hide out until he’s gone, but before I have a chance to act on those cowardly thoughts, he looks up and locks his eyes with me. We stand there lost in each other’s gaze for a few minutes, paralyzed at the depth of emotions running in between us, and muted by the of the complexity of the situation we find ourselves in.

The intensity of our stare reminds me of my first encounter with Aiden, and how at that moment there was a sliver of hope in my heart that maybe just maybe one day I could have a chance of something real with this beautiful man. Instead, I was forced into marriage with his seventy eight year old grandfather. Oh, how cruel can fate be.

The disappointing realization brings tears to my eyes, forcing me to steer may gaze away. As soon as I do, he gets up from his chair taking a few steps towards me before stopping midway.

A bitter laugh escapes his mouth. “So you were just friends with my grandpa, huh? There’s nothing sinister going on between us. He’s just like a grandfather to me,” he says in a mocking voice.

“Aiden – It’s... It’s not…”

“Save it,” he interrupts abruptly, “if you tell me it’s not what I think it is one more time, I’m going to puke. You had me
fooled
. I bought your stupid act and
stood up
for you with my family. Imagine how much fun they had at my expense at hearing the news of your
wedding
. I have to give it to you though. You played your cards real well. Your act was impeccable. You should consider going after an acting career after you finish milking my grandpa. You’ll do great.”

His words hit me like a blade, shattering the pieces of my broken heart into a million tiny shards. It’s as if he’s shoved a knife into my bleeding heart, stabbing it repeatedly, until no piece is left untouched. I can’t help the sob that wrecks my body.

“Save it. I’m not buying any of your act anymore, so you might as well save your energy,” he says before abruptly turning his back to me and scurrying down the stairs to leave.

My knees give out, as I fall into a pool of tears and misery. Throughout the hours of tear filled desolation that follows, I try to tell myself that this is for the best. That I never had a chance with Aiden to begin with. He is a Harvard graduated grandchild of one of the richest people in America, and he’s the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen. There is no way he would have gone for me, and even if he did, it would have been merely for some short term fun. I tell myself that this way, I’ve saved myself from future heartache, but it’s hard to convince myself that any future heartbreak would have been worse than the excruciating ache I feel inside now.

The days that follow are quiet. Aiden never visits again, nor
does
anybody else from David’s family or friends. Lou told me that David sent a serious letter to his kids explaining his decision but giving a stern warning for them to either accept me warmly or stay away. It appears that they chose the latter. Though it could be that they tried to show up, but were turned away at the door.

We now have a full time security guard at the door who closely monitors who comes in and goes out. From what I overheard, he has strict orders to keep Tom and anybody else who might be looking for trouble, at bay.

David also sent a letter to my dad. I know this because my mom called me a few days after the wedding. She called to congratulate me on my “wedding,” telling me she was happy I had found a man of David’s caliber. I’m pretty sure by that she meant a man with David’s wealth.

The congratulatory remarks had my stomach roiling. I wanted to ask her if she knew how old David was or knew that he is dying, but I kept my mouth shut. She said my dad had received a letter from him and was happy I had finally settled down. Shane was apparently happy with the news too. My mom said he seems cheerful and had been in a good mood since he heard the news.

Hearing this is a huge relief to me. I guess David was right about my family’s reaction, but it still doesn’t change how I feel about the whole sham deal. I still feel disgusted that I had to stoop so low, and constantly curse myself and my luck for forcing me to take this route.

As the days go on though, I try to swallow my bitterness and focus on David. His health deteriorates little by little every day. I had heard of cancer being horrific, but until you see it destroy a person you care about bit by painful bit, you cannot imagine the extent of the agony and the pain it causes. Cancer is a slow moving poison, gradually making its venomous way through the body and taking victims one organ at a time.

I watch David wither away ounce by ounce until the only thing left is bluish skin and bare bones. He looks so skinny the sight of him alone is enough to break my heart, but the worst part is the pain. David’s pain is so excruciatingly severe that some days, he can barely breathe. In order to make him feel somewhat comfortable, the doctors gradually increase the dosage of his pain medications every day. As a result, he spends most of his days sleeping. The hours that he is awake are filled with such pain and misery, that every second is gut wrenching.

Gradually, he loses his appetite and his ability to eat, relying instead on an IV for sustenance. His doctor makes a visit once a day, and by the fourth week after the wedding he warns us that the time is approaching when we need to take him to the hospital.

A few days later, we make the somber trip. I go with him and stay at his side, though as the days go by, I start to wonder if he can even tell that I’m here. He’s only awake for about a couple of hours a day, and during those hours he barely talks. When he does, his speech is slurred and he seems to not know what goes on around him.

To see how his body’s changed so much in the mere few months I’ve known him is agonizing and eye opening at the same time. Seeing with your own eyes up close, how the human body can be taken away ounce by excruciating ounce really changes your perspective. Witnessing a person die a slow death is a painful reminder of how precious and short life really is. Back when he was still lucent and coherent, David would often say the entirety of a person’s life is like a dream. It’s over in a blink of an eye, and the only thing left at the end is either a feeling of peace and fulfillment or a disappointment at how you shaped the dream. He would tell me that I should appreciate my youth and my health, and use my time on this earth judiciously. Yet it’s hard to take those words seriously, when you’re at my age and feel like you’re invincible, having all the time in the word. But, witnessing David age so quickly during the time I’ve known him and seeing how his body deteriorated in this short period really drive this point home for me.

I see David lose a little of his body and his life each day, and I vow to not take mine for granted. I tell myself that once this is over, I’m going to start my life over and try to make the best of everything. No matter what happens next, I will try to make my own way in the world and invest my time in relationships and experiences. Because those are the things I see lacking in David’s life and those are what he’s told me over and over again what will matter the most at the end.

Still, it is hard to stay positive when you sit next to the only person in the world you could consider a friend and watch them die. Some days I wish this would end soon so I could move on, but then I feel guilty for being so selfish.

About a week after he’s admitted to the hospital, David goes into a coma like state, unable to breathe on his own and life support providing his only means of sustenance. Lou pulls me over a couple of days later, explaining gently that David signed a document requesting that he won’t be kept on life support for longer than a week. Given that the doctors have already said there is little chance he’s going to wake up again, that leaves a mere few days for David.

I stay glued to his side during this period, holding his hand, talking to him, and desperately trying to make this time as comfortable for him as I possibly can. I know he probably can’t hear me, but I feel my presence and my voice may provide a sense of comfort to him. I haven’t forgotten the main reason I agreed to the marriage in the first place was to be with David at the end. So I try to do all I can to make his last days in this realm of existence a little more comfortable.