“I know.”
The doctor clears his throat. “We had specific instructions from Stephanie in her medical directive. They were followed to the letter. I’m truly sorry for your loss, Ms. Covey. Take as much time as you need.”
He and Anthony both walk away, leaving me to do the last thing I ever wanted to do . . . say goodbye to my baby sister.
Eli and I walk down the hallway with his arm around my shoulder. I want to push him away, be alone and wallow in my grief, but I can’t seem to do it. He’s the only person here who didn’t spend the last however long lying to me. I hold onto him as we move, following the line on the floor. We don’t speak because there’s nothing to say. I can’t go back in time. I can’t change the way everyone handled this. Once again, I’ve had the choice stripped from me.
The door is open, and I glance at her lifeless body lying there. I’m not strong enough for this. I’ve been fooling myself by believing I was prepared. There’s no preparing for grief. Instead, I’m thinking of how I wasn’t with her in the end. No, I was lying in Eli’s bed, wishing my phone weren’t ringing. I should’ve been holding her hand, telling her how loved she was. My beautiful little sister is gone, and I hate that she didn’t hear my voice telling her all the things she needed to know.
Eli’s hand is on my back, and I spin, crumple against his chest, and twist my fists in the fabric of his shirt. “No, no, no, no!” I thought maybe this was a lie. Somewhere deep inside I hoped she’d be alive, but she’s not. “I’m not ready for this!” I cry. “She can’t be gone. Please, God, give her back to me!”
He murmurs words of comfort and support, but they don’t matter. There’s no way to soothe the torture I’m feeling. Grief, guilt, anger, and desolation consume me. “Do you want to go in? You don’t have to.”
I know I need to. Even though she isn’t really there, it’s all that’s left of her. “Yes, I do.” I say to him and straighten my shoulders, finding a tiny bit of strength in his warm hand on the small of my back.
“I’ll be right here.”
My feet shuffle forward, and I pull the chair closer to the side of her bed as my heart splinters. Eli stays back, allowing me some privacy. I lift my hand, brushing the dark brown strands off her face. She used to love when I did this. In the beginning of her disease, it was the only thing that calmed her. I would spend countless nights running my fingers through her hair.
I close my eyes, not wanting to see her face, and repeat the motion. “I’m sorry, Stephy. I wasn’t here, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. I’m your sister, and I was supposed to be beside you. I don’t know if you were scared or if it hurt. I don’t know if you were looking for me—” A strangled sob breaks free.
Eli moves, but I put my hand up to stop him. I need to do this alone. Even if she isn’t alive, I pray she can hear me.
“I would’ve been here, baby girl. I should’ve been by your side. You were my whole world, Stephanie Covey. I don’t know how to go on. I love you more than my own life. You were the best sister in the world. Each day that I had you was a gift, and I wish it never ended. I wish I could tell you a stupid joke right now.” The tears come so hard I can’t see. “I wish I could hold you and tell you how special you were. Because you were everything good in this world.” I wipe my face and suck down a breath. “The world was a better place with you in it. I was a better person because of you.”
My head falls on the side of the bed, and I grip her lifeless hand in mine. I cry without restraint. It’s ugly, full of pain, and I don’t have the wherewithal to care. “It should’ve been me who was sick! You didn’t deserve this.”
I have no idea how long I stay hunched over the bed clinging to her. I never understood loss until this moment. I thought when my parents died that was the most grief I could’ve felt, but that was a splash in a puddle. Now, I’m drowning in the ocean, the current pulling me farther out into the murky waters.
I need air.
I can’t breathe.
My lungs struggle to function. I gasp, trying to find any oxygen in the room, but there is none.
“Easy, baby. Easy. Look at me, Heather.” Eli’s kneeling by my side and cradling my face as he wipes the tears with this thumb. My eyes find his, and he stares until I calm down. “That’s it. Breathe. Just breathe. I’m right here.”
“She’s gone.”
“I know, baby.”
“She won’t come back.”
His own eyes fill with sadness. “I’m so sorry.”
The sound that escapes my throat is filled with despair. “Take me home, Eli. Please. I can’t see her like this. I couldn’t save her, and now she’s gone!”
His arms become a vice around me as I fall apart. I want the numbness back. It didn’t hurt when I didn’t feel. The knowledge that tomorrow, I can’t call her, text her, or touch her leaves me so bereft that I’m not even sure there’s a way to live past this moment.
Eli tucks me against his chest, holding me as we move. I hear him talking to someone, but I’ve found my way back to the darkness. This is where I want to stay.
I focus on nothing.
The only thing that registers is Eli’s arms wrapped around me as I close my eyes and drift to where not even death can touch me.
“Heather,” a soft voice calls to me. “Wake up, honey.”
Stephanie? Is she here? My eyes fly open, hoping to see my sister, but it isn’t her. Instead, Nicole is leaning over me. Disoriented, I look around and realize I’m not in my house. A big bed sits in an enormous room. I’m at Eli’s. When did we get back here?
“Hey.” She stares at me with red-rimmed eyes.
She knows about Stephanie.
He must’ve called her.
“Nic—” I choke her name out, and she reaches for me. The minute she touches me, I break. The tears I cried before seem small in comparison.
The pain is back with a vengeance. Nicole rocks me back and forth, and I hold on to her for dear life. “Oh, honey. It’s okay, let it out,” she encourages. “Just let it out.”
There’s a connection between two people who understand each other. That’s Nicole and me. We don’t have to speak to know what the other needs. Sometimes, it’s just falling apart in the comfort of your best friend’s arms.
Nicole leans back when I quiet down. “Better?”
“No. I don’t know that there is a better.”
She wipes her own tears and nods. “It’s going to hurt, but you’re strong, Heather. Stephanie loved you so much, know that.”
“She kept it from me.” All the emotions of the night continue to assault me. My sister knowing that she was going to die and that she was sick. The fact that she hid her condition so we could have the day at Busch Gardens. “All at her own expense. If she were alive, I’d beat her for it. She should’ve stayed in bed, got better so that . . .”
“So she could just get worse again?” Nicole challenges. She loved my sister as if she were her own. Stephanie was always around when we were young, wanting to be exactly like us. I can remember finding Stephanie trying on my clothes and talking to her “best friend Nicole.” It was annoying back then, if only I had the gift of foresight. “Is that what you’d really want for her?”