With This Heart (29 page)

His touch sent tingles down my arm and I looked down to study his hands on me. It was my favorite sight in the world and I knew I’d taken it for granted before.

My mom cleared her throat behind us, “I’m going to run down to get some coffee. I’ll be back in a little while.” We nodded and then Beck led me into the room and helped me back onto my bed. Once I was tucked under the covers and there were no other distractions to bother with, I finally looked up to meet his eyes.

There were so many emotions sparking through the air between us and I didn’t even realize I was crying until a tear dropped down my cheek.

“
Abby-”

“
No,” I cut him off, needing to get his guilt off my chest. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but my heart was rejected because of the medication dosage they had me on. You didn’t cause it. Our trip didn’t cause it. Yes, I should have been more careful, and I will be in the future, but there was nothing you could have done.” I thought my speech would clear the air between us, but his gaze was focused on my hands. In that moment, I realized his distance ran deeper than what I’d predicted.

“
Abby, I know that, but it was still so dumb to go way out to Marfa. When I was waiting for that ambulance to arrive and you were unconscious in my arms, I thought you were dying. I thought I was watching you take your last breaths, and I can’t describe that feeling to you. It ripped my heart in two.” He pushed off the bed and started pacing back and forth in my hospital room. “Your parents trusted me to take care of you and instead I drove you out into the middle of
fucking nowhere. For what? Lights? Was that worth your life? Fuck no!” He ripped the baseball cap off his head and slapped it against his thigh, making me jump from the sound.

“
Beck!” I protested, wishing desperately that my body was strong enough to stand up and fight for him to see logic.

“
MIT approved my transfer into their journalism program,” he muttered, and I felt the contents of my lunch rising in my stomach.

What?

I don’t know how long I sat there before answering, “Wow. That’s amazing, Beck.”

He finally stopped pacing and turned toward me. “I’m not going to do it, though. I can’t be in Boston when you’re in Dallas.”

What? He’d give all that up for me? His future? What future would he have without a degree? Surely his father would be even more livid than he already was.

“
Beck. You can’t do that,” I answered, ignoring my own protests even though I wanted to scream for him to stay. The heart monitor started to spike, but I hardly registered the noise. Every fiber of my being was focused on the fact that I was losing Beck whether I wanted to or not. I wasn’t going to be the source of his regret in life. I heard the nurse enter my room, but I couldn’t peel my gaze from Beck.

“
Is everything okay in here? You need to be resting, Abby.” The nurse glared from Beck back to me. Her recommendation was clear: no lover’s quarrels when you have a failing heart.

We nodded and when she turned to leave, Beck came to my side. “I won’t leave you. Let’s not talk about it anymore today. I don’t have to make the decision for another week or so. Let’s just hangout. I just want to be with you.” His arms enveloped me in a hug. He was careful not to pull any of my IV’s or bump my nasal cannula. I tugged his shirt and scooted over onto the bed so that we could both fit. The tiny hospital bed dipped with his weight and I naturally rolled toward him like he was my center of gravity.

I’m not sure if my mom ever came back to check on us, but we turned on the TV and I fell asleep as we watched an old rerun of
Friends
. My arm was wrapped tightly around Beck’s waist and I was trying my hardest to breathe in the scent of him rather than the sterile smell of the hospital.

My decision to push Beck away wasn’t made on a whim. That last week we had together, I contemplated our relationship and what was best for him. It didn’t escape my notice that I was being slightly hypocritical. I’d been so angry with Caroline for telling me to leave when she was at her lowest. Except, Caroline passed away quickly. I wasn’t going to pass away. I didn’t know what my life would look like for the next few weeks, the next few months, or years. I couldn’t put Beck through that. I reasoned with myself that if I knew I was going to die soon, then I would let Beck stay. Instead, I was most likely going to live a mundane existence for a while. And that’s why I chose the path I did.

Please don’t judge my actions. I tried to take the noble path, not the path that would make me the happiest.

I gave Beck up the only way I knew how: cold turkey.

It was the last day he had before he was supposed to head back to MIT and get everything situated for the semester. I knew his father had booked a ticket for him, but he still insisted he was going to let it go to waste.

I wasn’t going to let that happen.

It was early morning in the hospital. The nurse had opened my blinds so that I could see the playground outside. There were children running around, sliding down the slide, and chasing one another. Their carefree playing distracted me for a few minutes, but the hospital’s windows blocked out their laughter so that I was left with a silent movie of sorts. When I heard a tap on the door, I quickly closed my journal, shielding it in my two hands on my lap.

My mother hopped up from her seat and gave me a nod. She knew to stay outside in case I needed any help. She’d told me the night before that it should be Beck’s decision whether he stays or goes, but she respected my choice. I gave her a wistful smile before she opened the door and let Beck inside.

He smiled wide and strolled into the room, filling my life with his presence.

“
You’ll be happy to know that I’ve now been a vegetarian for four days!” He turned in a circle as if showing off his makeover.

I couldn’t bring myself to laugh, but I mustered a smile. “That’s awesome, Beck. Has it been hard?”

I didn’t see the harm in attempting to have one last normal conversation before my life became post-Beck.

“
Impossible. But I’m starting to like tofu, so that’s good. And peanut butter has become a staple in most of my meals,” he answered, coming to sit next to me on the bed. He was so warm and full of life, whereas I’d become ten shades paler since coming into the hospital. I wanted to soak up his heat.

I didn’t trust my vocal cords, so I just nodded and pressed my lips together.

He was more than happy to lead the conversation. “I brought some books and I thought we could go outside if you’re feeling up for it? The nurse said if I brought your wheelchair it would be okay. You just have to wear a mask and we can’t stay out too long.” He seemed so excited about his plan that I almost agreed. But then I thought about what he’d said. I had to wear a mask. A mask to prevent me from catching anything. My heart couldn’t handle anymore obstacles thrown at it. I was a shell of existence. I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t breathe fresh air. And for that reason, my fingers tightened around the journal and I resolved to stick with the plan.

“
Um, actually, let’s stay here. I’m feeling tired,” I lied, feeling my hands start to shake around my journal.

His brow dipped forward in concern, the dimples disappearing as his mouth turned into a frown.

“
What’s up, Abby?” he asked, scooting back an inch so that he could turn completely toward me. His hazel eyes weren’t going to let me off easy, so I looked down at the journal.

“
You have to go to Boston,” I whispered.

I could feel his body stiffen on the bed. His hand clasped into a tight ball. “This again? Seriously, Abby?”

He was so angry, angrier than I’d seen him at the bar in Marfa. All because I was doing the one thing that needed to be done.

“
Beck-” I started to push the journal toward him and he bristled away from it.

“
Don’t do this, Abby,” he argued with his jaw clenched tightly. “I mean it. Don’t do this to us. I’ve told you every day this week that I don’t want to leave you.” His eyes held fire and I was completely helpless against them.

I shook my head, trying to speak past the emotion lodged in my throat.

“
I don’t care. It’s already done. I’m not letting you stay. I’m breaking up with you.” My voice held conviction I hadn’t known existed. I sounded stubborn and confident in my decision.

“
Abby, please,” he begged, and my stomach clenched into a fist of pain and regret.

“
I don’t want you to stay. I have to focus on my health and you have to go to school,” I answered with a dead tone. It was the truth muddled with lies. I’d been a burden to people my entire life. Beck deserved more.

“
I could help you get better,” he murmured. His fists clenched on top of the sheet and I wanted so badly to lean forward and comfort him. But who would comfort me?

I shook my head infinitesimally.

“
I’ll go if you ask me to, but I’m not coming back,” he threatened. “If this is what you want, then I’ll do it, but we’re over.” I knew he was being harsh so that I’d see reason and change my mind. But still, his words were venom. They cut right to the core of my happiness. But it was
exactly
what I wanted. I didn’t want him tied down to me when he went back to Boston. I loved Beck because he was the epitome of what life should be, and I’d never forgive myself if I took that away from him.

When I didn’t respond to his ultimatum, he pushed off the bed and stood facing the wall for a moment. His hands cradled the back of his head and I could see his back muscles shifting beneath his shirt.

“
I’m so sorry,” I whispered, trying to reach out for him and causing my cannula to slip out of my nose. It only took a few seconds before I felt light headed, but I had to push through it.

“
Please understand. Please,” I begged, needing him to turn toward me. I didn’t want us to end like this. I needed him to tell me it was okay. That he agreed with me.

When he turned to face me, his chiseled features were sharp as stone.

“
No, actually I don’t understand,” he snapped, and I cringed back against the bed as if he’d hit me. “Don’t do this, Abby.” A second later, the door knob clicked open and my mom peeked in, most likely to make sure everything was okay. As soon as I saw her face, she moved away to
give us privacy. But, the noise of the door snapped Beck out of his death stare. He shook his head and turned to leave.

“
Wait!” I yelled, grasping the journal and jumping out of my bed. My head spun and I fell forward, catching myself on the nightstand. My body protested and my heart pumped overtime as it tried to send out enough oxygenated blood to keep me standing.

He didn’t turn around.

“
Beck! This is for you.” I held the journal out in a desperate plea for him to take it. I didn’t want to move away from the nightstand for fear that I’d face plant into the tile. The heart monitor was beeping wildly behind me and I knew we only had seconds before my nurse rushed in. It didn’t bother me that everyone in the ward could hear me yelling. I just couldn’t let him leave without reading everything in the journal. He had to know how much he meant to me.

But nothing in life is perfect. I got what I wanted: Beck was going to live his life. It just wasn’t going to be on my terms.

I tried gulping in breaths of air and slowing my heart, but nothing helped. I needed to sit back down, but I couldn’t yet. He was leaving me. His hand grasped the door knob and my lip quivered as tears streamed down my cheeks.

He pulled his hand away and was swiveling on his feet back toward me. He was about to turn around, I
know
he was, but then the nurse and my mom rushed past him to get to me.

“
You need to leave now, young man!” the nurse barked, her voice much too harsh. “You’ve done enough!”

“
Beck!” I screamed, trying in vain to get him to turn around and take the journal. But the nurses and doctor blocked his path. I chucked it across the room so that it hit the door with a loud thud. The world spun around me, but I tried to hold onto consciousness. I needed one more glimpse of him to tide me over, but instead I was met with a black ring impinging on my vision as the nurse lifted me back onto the bed.

I felt my mom’s hand rub my hair back as she leaned down to hold me.

“
He’s gone. Sweetie, just rest. Just rest.”

She kept repeating those words as she rocked me against the hospital bed. I clung to her shirt with a vice-like grip, wishing she could erase every cruel moment in my life.

I’d done the right thing and I knew it, yet the doubt that seeped into my thoughts was enough to cause nightmares anytime I shut my eyes. My brain had a way of finding the most gut-wrenching ideas and replaying them in my mind over and over again.

Beck at parties. Beck with girls. Beck sleeping with a new girlfriend. I squeezed my eyes shut and told myself it was for the best. But it wasn’t enough. I reached for the pail next to my bed and threw-up the contents of my stomach until I was left dry-heaving and praying for the pain and sadness to go away.

…

Beck called everyday for a month and I didn’t answer once. I had to fight myself about it every single time, but I knew if I heard his voice, I’d cave and beg him to come back. So instead, I’d watch the phone vibrate on the hospital’s night stand, jarring the silence from the room and reminding me of how much I’d been forced to give up in my life.