The Heartbreakers (23 page)

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Authors: Ali Novak

BOOK: The Heartbreakers
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“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” I exclaimed even though I knew my question was unfair. Oliver had let his fear control him, and that was something I had experience with myself. Fear made you do stupid, irrational things.

“I don’t know, Stella,” he said, tugging on the chain around his neck. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“I’m sorry,” I responded, surprising both of us. “I understand that you couldn’t risk your family.” If I were put in the same position, I’d make the same decision as him. Of course, I never would’ve gone about it the way he did, but that wasn’t the point.

Oliver took a hesitant step forward. “You do?” He stared at me, his face shining as he held his breath.

“Yes,” I said, nodding my head. “But just because I understand
why
you did it doesn’t mean I forgive the
how
. What you did sucked, Oliver.”

“Okay, I deserve that,” he said, a flush creeping across his cheeks. “I was terrible, but I figured if you hated me, then it would be easier for you to move on and be happy.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “You thought standing me up would make me happy?”

“When you say it like that, I sound like the world’s biggest idiot.”

“You are the world’s biggest idiot,” I said with a small smile. “Although JJ and Drew are close runners-up.” The more time I spent talking with Oliver, the more I realized that I was past being mad at him.

A tiny smile appeared on his face too. It was there for a moment, but then it slipped away. “You’re still not going to forgive me, are you?”

“I appreciate you taking the time to tell me the truth, so yes, I do forgive you,” I said carefully, and the uncertain look on his face turned into a grin. “But that doesn’t mean anything has changed between us.”

His smile wavered. “Meaning what?”

“I called Paul yesterday,” I said slowly. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt nervous about telling him this, but I could feel my pulse in the back of my throat. “I’m not coming back to work. I have enough material to keep the blog running until the end of the tour. After Cara gets better, I’m going to college and—I don’t think I can handle seeing you again.”

Neither of us spoke. Out in the hall I heard a woman’s voice, probably one of the nurses, followed by a response from what sounded liked my brother.

Oliver cleared his throat. “So this is it then.” It wasn’t a question; he understood that we were really, truly over.

“Yeah,” I said, my chin trembling. “This is it.”

He was silent for a long time before finally nodding his head. Then he leaned over the side of the bed and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “Good-bye, Stella,” he said in a thick voice. “Thank you so much for allowing me to be a part of your life.”

Chapter 23

I was right about hearing my brother out in the hall. A few minutes after Oliver left, Drew pushed open my door. “Knock, knock,” he said, rapping his knuckles against the frame. “How you feeling, Rocket?”

“Not as bad as I thought I would,” I said. “Come in.”

Drew hesitated for a second, lingering in the space between the hall and my room, but then stepped inside. He was quiet as he moved toward the chair where Oliver had been minutes before, and when he reached it, he smoothed out his shirt before sitting down.

“What’s up?” I asked. Something about the way he was holding himself was strange.

Drew shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “Clearly.”

“Well”—he paused and fidgeted in his seat—“I guess I was wondering about Oliver.”

“What about him?” I asked, trying my best not to sigh. If Drew was outside my room when Oliver left, the two had obviously seen each other, and although I’d known he’d ask sooner or later, I’d hoped my brother would forget to interrogate me.

“He flew all the way out here?”

I shrugged, trying to look casual. “Yeah. He wanted to make sure I was okay.”

My response made him frown. “And he’s already left? That wasn’t a very long visit.”

“He’s a busy guy, Drew,” I said. “He probably didn’t have time to hang out and play cards.” I knew I was being short with Drew, but I didn’t want to explain my relationship problems to my brother. Not that there was a relationship to have a problem with since Oliver and I were over.

The thing was, even though I found comfort in knowing the truth about what had happened between us, and despite the fact that I’d forgiven Oliver, I still felt heavy on the inside whenever I thought about him. Before he ruined us, I’m fairly positive that I was on my way to loving him, and that wasn’t a feeling that would disappear overnight. It would linger in my heart for a while, and that was something that I would have to deal with. But not right now. Not here in this moment with Drew, and most definitely not when I had more important issues to wrestle with, such as my sister’s health.

“I guess you’re right,” he said.

“But?” I asked.

He rubbed his chin. “Dunno. I thought maybe there was something going on between you two.”

“Are you asking if we’re dating?” I narrowed my eyes. “’Cause we’re not.”

“Okay,” he said and held up his hands. “I was just wondering.”

After that, Drew slumped back into his seat. He looked worn out, which, after everything, was not surprising, but what bothered me was the look in his eyes. Or maybe it was a lack of a look, his eyes dull and distant.

“Drew,” I said, my mouth suddenly parched. “Are you okay?”

He took a moment to respond. “Yeah,” he said at last, but his expression was still slack.

“You don’t seem like it,” I told him.

“You know,” Drew said, rubbing his face, “you can be a real pain in the butt sometimes.”

“It’s my specialty,” I said and pressed my lips together into a tight line. He wasn’t going to joke his way out of this one. “Just tell me.”

“Fine.” He tipped his head back on his neck and stared up at the ceiling instead of looking at me. “I guess it’s just—I can’t help but think that this is her last chance.”

“What?” I asked with a frown.

“Cara’s,” he clarified, a slightly faraway look clouding his eyes. “I’m afraid this is her last chance to get better.”

Oh.
Drew had never been as positive about Cara’s recovery as she had been over the course of her illness—nobody was. But at the same time, he’d never openly expressed his fears, especially one as bleak as this. A few months ago, I’d been anxious about the same thing, and I braced myself for the cold, creeping feeling of dread that would most certainly infect my mind.

But it didn’t.

“Cara doesn’t need any more chances,” I said when I realized I wasn’t scared. “She’s going to be fine.”

Drew’s eyebrows scrunched together. “How can you be sure?”

“Because,” I said, “I just am.”

When I found out Cara’s first transplant had failed, I’d been terrified. I knew I should be now too, because there was no guarantee that this treatment would work, but my pulse and heart were steady. Drew was right—this was Cara’s last chance. But it didn’t matter. This time things were different. I couldn’t know for sure, but I could feel it.

• • •

Three weeks later we brought Cara home from the hospital. Her platelet, red, and white blood cell counts were still low, but the second transplant had been a success.

Although she was being discharged, Dr. Mitchell explained that Cara’s recovery would take a long time. It could be months before she started to get some of her strength back and, if her cancer didn’t relapse, it could take an entire year for her full health to return. During this time, there would be a huge risk of infection and Cara would have to visit the outpatient clinic on a regular basis so her progress could be tracked.

But there wasn’t anything Dr. Mitchell could say that would ruin my high of emotions—I was hyper and ecstatic and overwhelmed all at the same time, but more than anything I was relieved. Cara’s last chance had actually worked.

A few days after her official release from the hospital, the two of us were curled up in her bed watching a movie. Since she was still exhausted from her treatment, we spent a lot of time in her room. I didn’t mind; I’d always loved the scarlet walls, lacy gold pillows, and vanity covered in mounds of jewelry, makeup, and perfume. Every inch of space reminded me of my sister.

When the credits came on, Cara switched off the TV and turned to me. “So,” she started. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

“Hmm?”

I had yet to take off my hospital bracelet, and I slipped a finger under the plastic and spun it around my wrist. I liked fiddling with it. In black type was all my patient information: my full name, doctor, date of birth, and other important information the nursing staff needed to know. There was no reason for me to still be wearing it, but I’d grown attached—maybe because it was a reminder of what Cara and I had overcome together.

“It’s about Oliver,” she said. “I know what happened between you two.”

My entire body stiffened and I let go of the wristband. “What?” I asked. “How did you find out?” It wasn’t that I was purposely keeping the breakup a secret from Cara, but I figured the less I talked about it, the easier it would be to forget.

“He told me,” she said, her tone slightly tart. “After visiting you that day in the hospital he came to talk to me. I don’t know what was more shocking: actually meeting Oliver Perry or him breaking down and telling me
everything
. It was like he was still trying to apologize by admitting it all to me.”

“He did
what
?” I gasped. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Cara’s glare was glassy. “Oh, like how you gave me all the details about your breakup?”

Her comment stirred the guilt inside me with a jolt, and unable to face my sister, I tossed off the blanket and climbed out of bed. Cara was right. I should have told her about everything, from Oliver standing me up to his explanation and apology, because she shouldn’t have had to find out from
him
.

“Well, Stella?” Cara said when I didn’t respond. “No comment?”

“Okay,” I said as my cheeks started burning. “I should have filled you in on the whole thing, but between my donation and your second transplant, I figured we had enough to worry about.”

The sour look on her face dissolved as she sighed. “I get that, Stella,” she said. “I really do. You’re always looking out for me and I’m so grateful for that, but sometimes you have to let me look out for you too. That’s what sisters are supposed to do. Even if all I can be is an ear to listen, I’m here.”

“I know that,” I said, glancing down at the carpet. “Thank you, Cara.”

“Do you though?”

My head snapped back up. “Yes,” I said, looking directly at her. I could
never
forget what she’d been willing to sacrifice to give me my life back.

“Good,” she said with a crisp nod, “because this isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Oh
great.
There was a strange look on Cara’s face, like she was suddenly apprehensive about our upcoming conversation, and that made my stomach fluttery and uncomfortable. Unwittingly, I started to twist my nose stud between my fingers.

“All right,” I said. “What’s up?”

She bit her bottom lip before taking a quick breath and clearing her throat. “Do you miss him?”

Rather than answering, I focused my gaze out her bedroom window, because I didn’t want her to see how much that one question affected me. Across the street, the neighbor kids were playing on their front lawn. They were taking turns raking up the fallen autumn leaves and then jumping into a blazing pile of red, orange, and yellow.

Halloween was at the end of the month and their porch was already decorated for the holiday, a collection of pumpkins waiting to be carved, all lined up on the wooden steps. For a moment I wished I was out there with them, enjoying the last bit of nice weather before winter came.

“Stella?” Cara prompted me.

I sighed. Of course I missed Oliver. It was impossible not to. As hard as I tried to block him from my mind, he kept slipping in through windows and cracks. The cycle was vicious. I’d go a few days without thinking about him, but then I’d see the Heartbreakers posters in Cara’s room or hear one of their songs on the radio, and then all the memories and feelings I was keeping at bay would surge into me like I’d been plugged into an outlet.

There were so many things I missed about him, like his easy smile and how he ran his fingers through my hair. Most of all, I missed how being around him turned me into someone new, someone who was strong and confident and ready to take on the world. I was still that person now, but there was no doubt in my mind that if it weren’t for Oliver Perry and the Heartbreakers, my new self would still be trapped inside the older, scared version of me.

Minutes of silence lapsed before I could turn back around and face Cara. “Yes,” I finally said when our eyes met. “I miss him more than I should.”

“More than you should? What do you mean?”

“That moving on is hard.”

Cara was slow to answer, and she sat for a long while considering my response. “Did you ever consider,” she said hesitantly, “that you can’t move on because it’s the wrong thing to do?”

I sighed. “It would be nice to think so, but trust me, I’m doing the right thing.”

“How can you know that?”

For the past four years, I’d been preparing for my heart to be broken. I knew that Cara’s chance of survival was just as great as her chance of dying, and that was something I’d privately acknowledged but never spoken of. There was nothing I could have done to prepare for Oliver though—I never saw him coming.

When I’d been left heartbroken by him instead of my sister, the surprise was so crippling that I was
still
trying to pick up my shattered pieces. Yes, I’d forgiven Oliver. But was I willing to hand back over my heart when there were still a few cracks left to be sealed? Not a chance in the world.

“Because he hurt me, Cara,” I said. “Even if he’s sorry, there’s no guarantee he won’t do it again.”

Cara shook her head. “But there’s no guarantee about anything in life. Sometimes you just have to take a chance.”

I knew she was trying to help me, but there was no way she could understand how it felt to have your heart fractured by someone you possibly loved. And beside, after all the pain and hardship of the past few months, I wanted to feel safe and whole again. Talking about this brought the hurt back up in stinging waves, and I took three deep breaths to curb my ache.

“You’re wrong,” I said, hugging my arms to my chest. “By letting him go, I’m guaranteeing that he can’t hurt me again.”

She tried to keep the disappointment off her face, but it didn’t matter because I could hear it in her words. “If you think it’s for the best, then fine,” Cara said. “But just so you know, it seems like you’re still in pain.”

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