“What about him?”
“I don’t know if this is fair of me to say,” she sighs, “but I just need to know he’ll be okay when I’m gone.”
“Elise—”
“Zeke has spent so much time worrying about me in the last five years that I’m worried what’s going to happen when—”
“When he doesn’t have you to worry about.”
“I’ve consumed so much of his time; I just want to know he’s going to be okay when I’m gone.”
I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, trying to contain my tears because the last thing she needs right now is for me to cry.
“You’ve made him happier in the last few months than I’ve seen him in years. Please promise you’ll take care of him for me when I’m gone,” Elise continues. “Every time the cancer came back, I’d worry about him. But I was okay when I found out it was back this time.” She gives me a sad smile. “He pushed so many people away for so many years. I know he has his friends, but since I got sick, he’s never let anyone get too close. Until you.”
“He’s a good guy, Elise.”
“And you make him better,” she responds. “And because you got him to break down those walls, I know I’m leaving him in good hands.”
“I’ll take care of him,” I whisper. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than by his side.”
And that’s not a lie. For the first time in a long time, I’m not scared that someone’s gonna leave me. My heart is with Zeke, and his heart is with me, and I finally know what a forever kind of love feels like.
Because I found that with him
fifty
Zeke
She’s getting weaker. They don’t think she’ll make it through the weekend. Honestly, they’re surprised she made it this long.
When she was admitted last week, I don’t think the doctors expected her to make it through the night, but she did. And then she lasted another night and another, but with each passing day, her body got weaker and weaker.
I barely recognize her.
We debated taking her home, but the amount of preparation we’d have to do wouldn’t be worth it.
Instead, we’re in her favorite place outside of the hospital.
“It’s beautiful out here,” she says. Her voice is weaker than ever like she’s whispering, but in reality, she doesn’t have the strength.
“Yeah, it is.”
My mom’s always loved this part of the hospital; surprisingly, not many people know about the garden. It’s kind of hidden away, a little bit of a walk from the hospital. Her favorite spot is this little bench under a gazebo. We can see the whole garden and the little pond from there; when it rains, it’s even more beautiful. My mom loves it when it rains.
We haven’t been out here in a while, though, because she hasn’t been strong enough for it.
I guess now it doesn’t really matter.
“I wish you would’ve told me,” I add. “I feel like we missed out on so much time together and—”
“Baby, don’t do that, okay? I got a couple months of peace. I got to just be your mom again, not some charity case.”
“You weren’t a charity case.”
“You know what I mean. I know you didn’t mind spending all this time with me at the hospital, but I felt like, in some way, I was preventing you from living your life. You were so worried about me all the time. You’d drop everything in an instant if I coughed funny.”
“I just didn’t want you to go through it alone.”