Page 17 of The Heartbreak List

Theo: I’ve got the perfect thing.

He asks me to meet him in a couple of days. My chest grows light. Am I really going to get a tattoo? Cross a thing off my bucket list? I’ve secretly wanted ink for as long as I can remember. I almost got a butterfly when I went with America to get her tattoo a year ago. But I chickened out.

Indy: Where?

“Hey, babe.” Gray leans around the back of the chair to kiss my cheek as I put my phone down beside me. He squeezes my arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” I eye the beef that dad’s currently prodding with a pair of tongs. I have that cake in my bag still too. The one I was tempted to eat on my way over here but didn’t. My stomach gurgles and I flatten a palm over it. “A little hungry.”

“We’ll eat soon. You remember why we’re doing it?” He sheds his jacket and takes off his tie before he drops them both over a seat at the table.

“So we can look svelte in the wedding pictures?” I stick my tongue in my cheek.

His face crumples. “Indy, that’s—"

“I was joking. It’s for the chemo.” How could I possibly forget that the reason my fiancé and my brother and my parents are all on this fasting bandwagon is to support me while I go through treatment? Tonight’s family dinner will be the first time any of us have eaten in two days. “It’s supposed to help my healthy cells stay strong. I agreed to try everything. I’m on board with it, Gray.”

“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his ashy strands while he gulps air. He scoops me up from the Adirondack then straddles it so that I’m sitting between his thighs.

His body is hard and warm and in his arms is one of my favorite places to find myself. Is it wrong that I’m glad I’m the one whose journey will come to an end and not the other way around? I wouldn’t survive without his love. His embrace. Or his lips against my neck. Thinking about it creates a fissure in my chest that I can barely stand.

“I didn’t mean to be critical, babe. I want the best for you.”

“Beer,” my brother’s gruff voice interrupts as he taps Gray on the shoulder with a bottle. He doesn’t look at me, which seems to be his way of keeping his emotions to himself. “Careful, they go down a little too easy.”

“Thanks.” Gray takes the Miller Lite and puts it down next to my bag so that he can wrap both arms around me.

I rest my head on his shoulder, ignoring the way my eyes burn.

“It’s hard, Indy.” He presses his lips to my forehead and leaves them there. “But it’ll be worth it when you’re better. You’ll see.”

“How are the steaks coming, Oz?” Mom carries a platter out to the table. She’s made caprese, with both red and yellow tomatoes and the tiny mozzarella balls.

It’s my favorite vegetable dish. Has been since I was little. I wipe the corners of my mouth for any drool.

“You’re not the golden child. They pity you is all.” EJ grins at me.

“Edward James,” Mom shrills.

“That means when I die, I’ll still be their favorite. There’s no way you can win at this point.” I smirk at EJ as I push away from Gray’s embrace to take a seat at the table. “I’m so ready to eat.”

“You two are so morbid.” My mother presses a hand to her chest. She has that stony expression she gets when she disapproves of our actions. “I can’t believe this is how you behave.”

“Steaks are perfect,” Dad announces as he places them on a platter while EJ and Gray join me and Mom at the table.

Dinners with my family have always been the highlight of my week, but now they’re awkward. My dad swallows a lot, probably avoiding speaking in that way. My mom keeps shooting fearful glances at me when she thinks I’m distracted.

And even when we manage to act like we’re normal… even when we manage to forget for a little while that I’m sick… it all comes crushing down on us in the very next breath.

My mom cries and my dad holds onto me for an extra-long time while we say our goodbyes.

By the time Gray helps me into the car to go home, I’m physically and emotionally exhausted. And so is he.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that next week.” And the week after that. And the one after that. And for however many more I have after that. The tears start and they don’t stop coming no matter how many times I wipe them away. I never in a million years thought it would be this hard to be around my family.

“They love you, Indy.” Gray rests his hand on my knee while he concentrates on the road. “They love you so much. That’s all. We all love you so much.”

I’m failing them. I feel like I didn’t try hard enough or be careful enough. Like I could have stopped this from happening if I’d been more cautious. If I’d worn more sunscreen or drank less wine or practiced meditation or yoga. I’m hurting them and I can’t do anything to stop their pain.

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