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Authors: Jasinda Wilder

After Forever (7 page)

BOOK: After Forever
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“Eden, Jesus. You’re not fat. You’re…you and Ever, you’re different people. Same basic genetic makeup or whatever, yeah, but still different. You can’t—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Cade! What do you know about it?” She whirled on me. “You don’t know me! She and I are ninety-nine-point-ninety-nine percent the
same exact FUCKING person
! But that one measly goddamn percent? It means I get fat and she didn’t. It means I spend two hours at the gym every day just so I don’t go all lard-ass, and she could work out once a week and eat whatever she wants and be skinny and beautiful and perfect.”

“Eden, god, what—what can I—”

“NOTHING! You can’t
do
anything. You can’t
say
anything. It’s how it is. I’ve been going to therapists for years about this, and you think in one conversation that you can just—just
fix
me?”

I closed my eyes and tried to think. “How did we get here? Why are we fighting? I just—”

She seemed to deflate. “I’m sorry, Cade. Shit. I’m sorry I blew up. You didn’t deserve it. I can be a bitch sometimes—don’t mind me. Just—don’t read those letters around me, okay? They’re private. Between you and her. They don’t involve me.” She left then, walking away, looking sadder than I’d ever seen.

“Eden, listen—”

“I’m fine, Cade.” She paused, turned back to smile at me, a small, defeated smile. “I’m always fine. Don’t worry about me. Just read to her. If anything can bring her back, those letters can.” She was gone then, closing the door behind herself.
 

I stared at the door, at the place where she’d been just moments ago. That girl had some serious self-esteem issues, things that went bone-deep, soul-deep. I sensed that she really believed, in her heart of hearts, that she was actually fat.
 

How could she not see that she was beautiful? Had no one ever told her that? Had no one ever taken the time to make her
feel
beautiful? I knew I couldn’t do that for her. Not the way she needed. But
someone
should. She didn’t deserve to feel that way about herself, not as gorgeous as she was, not as talented and kind and unfailingly generous as she was.
 

The craziest part was, unless you really
knew
that about Eden, you’d never guess how deep those insecurities went.

I read on, stuffing one letter back in its envelope and pulling out another. “‘Caden, or, I suppose I might actually address the letters ‘Dear Caden’ since you are dear. To me, I mean. Is that weird? Maybe it is. ‘Dear’ means, according to Google, ‘regarded with deep affection; cherished by someone.’ I hope that’s not too weird for you, but I feel like you and I have a special connection. Do think so, too?’” I stopped, choking on the next part. “‘I’m so, so sorry about your mom getting sicker.’” I couldn’t keep reading. Being there in the hospital, it brought all that back. Days and days spent just like this, sitting next to Mom’s bed, watching her die slowly. Except with Ever it was both better and worse. Better in that she wasn’t getting actively sicker, but worse in that she wasn’t healing and might never.
 

I swallowed hard, blinked away the tears, and continued. “‘I can’t imagine going through that. When I lost my mom to the car accident, it was the most horrible thing I’ve ever experienced. One minute she was there, alive and fine, and then the next Daddy was telling me she was dead…’” I made myself finish the letter, and the next one. When Eden came back, I tucked the letter I’d just finished back in its envelope, sniffing it for the faint scent still clinging to it.
 

Eden took a deep breath. “Cade, listen, I’m really, really—”

“Don’t, Eden. Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to forgive. I know I have no idea what you’ve been through, how you feel. Any of that. And I probably never will. And I certainly know there’s probably nothing I could ever do or say to fix you, and it’s not even my job. But…just know that—as your friend, I mean—your insecurities are…misplaced.” God, that was the most cowardly way to try to say that. I had to do better. Eden had done too much to help me to deserve less. “You’re beautiful, Eden. You really are. You’re perfect the way you are. I know that coming from me that may be weird, or it may not mean much, but you should know that. About yourself. Because it’s true.”

Eden tipped her head back and sniffed, then shook her head and laughed bitterly. “Thanks, Cade.”

I tilted my head, confused by her reaction. “Did I just make it worse or something?”

She shook her head, seeming resigned now. “No. It’s just…the first guy to ever tell me that without having an ulterior motive, and it has to be you. For real, thank you. That’s very sweet of you, Cade.”

“I’m sorry I’m not—”

She cut me off. “No, it’s not you. It’s…well, it is, kind of. But it’s not your fault. You belong to Ever, that’s all.” She shrugged. “It’s not that no one ever tells me they think I’m hot or whatever, it’s just…when they do, it’s because they want in my pants. So it doesn’t count. Not really.”

“Eden, just because they—”

She kept going, talking over me. “And you know the worst part? It usually works. ’Cause I’m just that easy and that desperate.”

“Eden, you’re not—”

“Not to be mean, Cade, but you don’t know me.” She moved to stand on the other side of Ever’s bed, staring down at her sister. “She’s the good one, the pure one. One boyfriend, and then you. And you, she fucking
married
. Me? If you only knew…” She shook her head, trailing off, then laughed, another bitter exhalation. “Why am I telling you all this? Jesus. Like you need to know how much of a fucking mess I am? God, I’m such an idiot. Forget I said anything. Forget I’m here. Just…give me a few minutes with Ev, and then we can go.”

I hesitated, wanting to say something, to reassure her somehow, but she was right. I didn’t know her. Not at all. For all that she’d been there for me, driven me places and kept me company, until recently all of our conversations had been light, aimless small talk as we drove or ate a quick lunch. I knew nothing about her, not really. I didn’t know how she spent her time when she wasn’t with me at the hospital. I mean, I knew she had sixteen credit hours plus cello mentoring or whatever it was called, practicing. But did she have a boyfriend? I’d always assumed no, but the way she talked about herself, it made her seem…I wasn’t even sure what the word was. Loose? But she was so self-deprecating that I thought maybe she was exaggerating, the way she exaggerated about her weight.
 

Finally I simply left, hobbling out into the corridor and to the waiting room. Eden spent half an hour with Ever, and then she swept into the waiting room, stood beside me while I struggled to my feet. She never helped me unless I asked her to, and always had this way of walking slowly with me as if it was perfectly natural to walk that slowly, as if she strolled at a crutch-bound hobbling pace all the time.
 

The ride in the elevator, the walk to the car, the drive home, it was silent. At one point, I glanced at her, wanting to say something, but she just happened to switch the channel on her radio, find a song she liked, and turn up the volume. I took the cue and kept silent. When we got to my condo, I opened the door, but paused with my feet on the ground and my body inside the car.
 

“Eden, I—”

“Cade, please don’t. I’m not your problem. I’m fine. For real. I get these downward swings every once in a while, but I always pull out of them. I like who I am, for the most part. And like I said, I’m not your problem. You need to focus on getting better, and on Ever.”

“But I just—”

She stabbed the radio off with an angry punch of her finger. “I’m
fine
.” She swung her head to look at me, hair swaying, green eyes daring me to say anything else. I didn’t.
 

I levered myself out of the car, then balanced on one crutch and bent down to look at her. “Just know…I’m here, if you need to talk.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Eden

Just shy of five months since the accident, and Cade was able to walk with only one crutch, and had almost full use of his right hand. He still had trouble with drawing, which I gathered was excruciatingly hard for him. If I couldn’t play the cello for five or six months…I’d go nuts.
 

I’d learned to keep my damn mouth shut around Cade, finally. No more embarrassing explosions, no more blurting out my deepest fears and insecurities to the one single person on the planet who couldn’t really do a damn thing about them. We visited Ever, took turns with her. He read the letters she wrote him, and then found that she’d kept his to her in a similar box, hidden in the back of their closet, and he read those, too. I never listened. I was too much of a coward to face that. He loved her, and he always would. He didn’t need to see how jealous I was of their love, of Eden for having him, for having love like his.
 

Then, one sunny but cool spring afternoon, Cade and I were sitting in Ever’s room, both of us having had time alone with her. We were about to leave when a doctor came into the room. Ever had nurses come in while we were there, check on things, maybe move her a little, change a bag of liquid. But never a doctor. He was tall, thin, gray-haired and ramrod straight. He grabbed the rolling stool and sat facing us.

“I’m Dr. Overton, with the neurosurgery department. We’ve been monitoring Ms. Monroe for some months now, and we—the team assigned to her case—have decided it’s probably best for her to be moved to a long-term care facility.” He said this calmly, easily, smoothly.

Cade didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was much too even, much too careful. “So basically…you’re giving up on her?”

Dr. Overton didn’t even blink. “No, son—”

“I’m not your son.”

“Sorry, Mr. Monroe. But no, we’re not giving up. But…she’s been in a coma for almost five months now. Her brain activity hasn’t altered in all that time. Essentially, she’s showing no signs of changing, and a long-term care facility can provide the best quality of life for her. I believe this eventuality was discussed with you some months ago, Mr. Monroe.”

“Yeah, I just—I hoped—”

“And please, don’t give up that hope.” Dr. Overton leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingertips pressed together. “Here’s a very honest truth for you both: We know very little about comas, about the human brain in general, really. There’s little we can do at this point but keep her body healthy and hope that she comes out of it on her own. She may, I’m not saying she won’t. Miracles happen. I’ve seen it. But…medically, statistically—”

“You’re saying it would be a miracle if she does.” Cade seemed more fragile than I’d ever seen him.
 

I took his hand and squeezed; I couldn’t not. Sometimes you just need the touch of another human, no matter who it is.

Dr. Overton sighed. “It’s very unlikely that she will wake up, yes.” A pretty young nurse came in then, with a folder in one hand. “This is Ms. Jackson. She’ll go over your options with you.”

Nurse Jackson was quiet, but efficient. She listed various facilities in the area equipped to deal with Ever’s condition, explained that the cost of her care would be borne by the state, and then left us with the packet of information. Left us to choose in which nursing home we’d put my comatose sister.

We went through the motions of discussing the various facilities, and picked one. Cade seemed to be simply going along at this point, blindly accepting. We fell silent, and Cade stared at Ever for a long time, almost as if not seeing her.
 

“What—what if she never wakes up, Eden?” His voice was a ragged whisper. “What do I do?”

“I don’t—I don’t know.”

“I—she’s my wife. I love her. I don’t know how to—I don’t know what to do. I miss her. I need her.”
 

I wanted to cry for him, for the brokenness I heard in his voice. “I know, Cade. She’s my sister, my best friend.”

“But she’s my
wife
. She’s all I had. Should I just…live as if she’ll never wake up? Move on? Go back to school? Just keep on going? Like…like she’s dead? But visit her like she’s alive?”

I heard what he wasn’t asking, what he wasn’t saying. “I don’t know, Cade. I don’t think anyone can tell you that. You just have to do what seems right to you.”
 

“But—I don’t know what
is
right. How can I? She’s not dead, but she’s not alive.” He seemed to be barely hanging on suddenly.
 

“Let’s go, Cade. Let me take you home.”
 

He nodded and followed me to my car, silent all the way.

things you can’t unsee

Caden

Ever,

My love. It seems like it’s been forever since I wrote you like this. Since I sat down with pen and paper and expressed my thoughts to you. So much has changed since then.
 

Everything has changed. I don’t even know where to start. We met IRL (I didn’t know what that phrase meant, way back when you first used it, you know) and we fell in love and we got married. God, all that seems like a lifetime ago. I don’t know who that was, that Cade who was with you back then. I’m someone else now. This…hole in the world, man-shaped. Me-shaped. A vacancy.
 

I can’t pretend like you’re going to read this, like you’re going to write back. I’m sorry, but I just can’t. You’re in a coma, and you might never wake up, and I’m alone. You promised, Ever. You promised you’d never leave me. I know you didn’t want to, you didn’t mean to. But you still did, and I’m back to being numb and floating through life, through every day.

Except now I don’t even have you, have your letters to keep me tied to the earth.
 

It’s been six months. It’s summer, and it was the day before Christmas the last time I heard your voice. The last time I saw your smile and your eyes.
 

I have to make some decisions now. Finish school? Keep the condo? Do I pack your things away? Do I hang up the sweater you left draped over the kitchen chair? I haven’t yet. Do I put away your shoes that are by the door? Do I put all of your stuff in a box like you’ve died?
 

BOOK: After Forever
6.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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