gave and gave to Sean while he did nothing but take.
Sean needed help. He needed someone to stand by him. I knew that. But maybe it was time for him to rely on someone else, someone who wasn’t me. Because sitting here in this hospital, drained and numb, I knew I had nothing more to give to Sean. I was an empty vessel.
♪♫♪
I sent Naomi away. She confessed that she had left her fiancé at home to come be with me, and I wasn’t about to deprive one more person of happiness because of Sean’s baggage. I assured her that I was leaving soon and that I would call her the next day. With enough encouragement, she agreed and left.
Once she was gone, the minutes that ticked by were interminable—and yet they took no time at all as I sat there, terrified of what I had decided to do. Eventually, the cold numbness eased and my eyes were able to focus on the door across the hall, the one that I would need to walk through in order to say goodbye.
I could have just walked away, refused to see him for even one minute more, but that would have been more than I could take.
So I put my hand on his door, Will giving me a nod from his position to the left of it, and I pushed it open.
This time, I saw more than just the pallor of his skin. This time, I really looked at him. There were no visible injuries. His face wasn’t swollen. There was no bruising or bandages. But there were wires, and tubes, and beeping machines that seemed too loud in that space. They rang in my head, pulsing with my fear.
I pushed past my trepidation and crossed to his side, picking up his hand. My intent was to simply squeeze it and whisper my goodbyes. Instead the tears came again and I wept over that hand for several minutes before pulling myself together. Then I kissed his fingers before reaching for the necklace that hung around my neck.
Sean knew what this necklace was—what it meant to me. So he would know what it meant when he found it later on. I pulled it over my head and coiled the chain and infinity pendant into my palm. Then I looked through his bag until I found his wallet and I put it inside.
I returned to his side once more and ran my fingers through his hair as I bent to whisper in his ear. “I need you to get better. But I need you to do it without me.”
Then I kissed his forehead and left the room.
♪♫♪
I didn’t stick around. I didn’t wait for him to wake up. I didn’t lay into him about how he’d become the total cliché package.
I walked away. I don’t know how I did it, but I walked right out of that hospital.
Driving home, I held back the tears by sheer force of will. I shoved down the mountain of emotions that was building up, determined to keep them at bay until I got in my door. The moment I entered my apartment, panic set in and I doubled over as I tried to suck in air that seemed too thin. I had done what I had to do. I was walking away. From Sean. My best friend. My family. The boy who loved me but couldn’t give me what I needed.
It was necessary. If I was going to survive, I had to stay away, but I couldn’t do it without making sure that he would be taken care of.
So I forced my breathing to slow: minute by agonizing minute, I breathed in and I breathed out and I pushed my hand into my chest to try to calm the racing, frantic gallop of a heart too fragile from being used too much.
And when I could at last stand straight and see clearly, I pulled out my phone and with shaking fingers searched my contacts for Debbie Amity.
I sniffed and wiped at my face as the ringing started. One. Two. Three.
“Libby, sweetie. Is everything okay?”
Of course she would ask that. Just like I knew something was wrong when Randy called me. Sean’s mom would know something was wrong if I called her. The tears came back and I stumbled through the explanation with halting phrases and broken words. “He was on painkillers after his surgery.” I gasped a breath. “And tonight he took too many or took something else