two of them still breathe. They hug like a brother loving a sister and a sister loving a brother.
He kisses her cheek and releases her, and she wraps both of her hands around one of his as he stands. “Thank you,” he says to my dad.
Dad nods. In a way I’ve seen him do only with people he deeply respects. “I meant what I said, you and Lucy are welcome here.”
“I know, but I need space. I…” Sawyer appears small then, and lost. “I need time to figure things out.”
“It’s a standing offer.”
It’s Sawyer’s turn to nod and then he tugs on Lucy’s hand for them to leave. I lose the ability to breathe. He’s leaving, to God knows where, for a reason I don’t understand, all without even looking at me.
The shock is so overwhelming that it takes me longer than it should for me to thaw, for my body to move. He’s gone. Sawyer’s gone. I sprint across the room, ignoring my father’s calls to give him space, and I’m down the stairs and out the door.
Sawyer’s bent over the backseat of his car parked near the curb, strapping Lucy into her car seat. He stands and shuts the door, and I finally find my voice. “Sawyer!”
He spins and looks at me as if startled, as if I’m the spirit in the night he can’t believe he sees. We stare at each other. His blond hair appears silver in the moonlight and he’s the one who is a ghost—lost in a world he doesn’t seem to understand.
“What happened?” I ask.
He shakes his head and glances away. My entire chests aches with the sadness radiating from him.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” His voice cracks. “A hotel tonight. I think. Maybe Sylvia’s tomorrow. I … I don’t know yet.”
“Sawyer,” I whisper as I don’t know what else to say.
“You broke up with me,” he says, and there’s a harshness to his tone. “You broke up with me because I love you. You’re pushing me away, and I don’t understand why.”
I bite my lower lip to keep the pain of his truth away, but it doesn’t help. “I know.” And I want so badly to tell him I was wrong. That I am wrong. That his text messages made me question my decisions and that Glory’s words have shaken me. I want to be selfish and take it all back, but I can’t. Not now. Not when something has happened that has torn him to shreds. I can’t add an additional burden to his already heavy weight.
“I want to jump.” Sawyer scrubs his hands over his face. “I want to jump so bad.”
Unable to stand his agony anymore, I stumble forward and I silently thank God when he holds on to me. I hug him tight, as if I could squeeze out all the hurt. “I love you, Sawyer. I swear to you, I love you.”
I look up at him, he cradles my head with his hands and he kisses me. His lips warm, the movement as soft as a whisper, his emotions as strong as a prayer. As fast as it starts, it ends and then Sawyer’s gone. Away from me, walking around the front of his car, and without another glance at me, he climbs into the passenger seat, starts his car and leaves.
I stand there, my arms crossed over my chest, holding myself together as I realize that Glory is possibly right. I am dying, not from my tumor, but from a slow, crushing bleed in my heart … and I’m terrified.
SAWYER
Sunday November 10: Nothing extra doing today. Didn’t go on the cure all day.
Stayed inside all afternoon. It wasn’t nice out anyway.
Morris was over tonight. Nothing specially important discussed, but had a nice time anyway. Gee, Diary dear, I’m just crazy ’bout Morris. I think he’s splendid. He sure is great to me.
Veronica loves me. I believe her, and I’m holding on to her words to keep myself upright.
It’s two in the morning, and Lucy’s sound asleep in the double bed in our small town’s only decent hotel. The stuffed animals I was able to shove into the bag stand guard as sentries near her pillow.
My cell’s in my hand and I keep waiting for it to vibrate, but Mom hasn’t tried to contact me. Not a call, not a text, nothing. She was drunk tonight, which means she’s probably passed out, maybe in her own puke since I wasn’t there to clean her