“She will.”
“You don’t know that. Because people die. They do. They come, and then they leave, and you never see it coming. You never know when your last goodbye is. You never know how to deal with the unspoken words…” She took a breath. “What if the last time we spoke was really the last time? I don’t even know if I told her I loved her. I don’t even know if—”
“It won’t be the last time.” I didn’t even know if I should’ve sworn something like that, but I did because it felt right. It felt as if I were supposed to tell her that no matter what, everything would be okay.
It felt like hope.
I never really had hope before Stella. It felt a bit foreign in my chest, but all I wanted it to do was grow larger within me.
We waited for hours. Then days. Then more days.
Maple was unconscious for a full week. When Stella lost all hope, I held it tighter. Not only for myself but for us both. I became her rock when her soul was shattered. I held her when she needed me to and held her even when it wasn’t necessary. I stayed beside her because that was what her heart needed me to do. And it was what my heart craved to do.
All I ever wanted to do was make sure she was okay.
I tried to get her to go home and rest, but she refused. So, I made a bed out of hospital chairs for her to rest her legs on while I’d massaged her swollen feet.
Finally, a nurse walked out to the lobby and said, “Stella Blackstone?”
Blackstone.
Mine.
Forever, I hoped. Forever, I prayed.
“Yes, that’s me,” she remarked.
“And a Damian Blackstone?” the nurse asked.
“That’s me.”
“Great. Maple has requested both of you to see her,” the nurse explained, smiling our way.
“She is okay?!” Stella remarked as I held her hand tightly in mine.
“Yes. She’s awake and recovering. Follow me, please.”
We did as she said, and the moment we reached Maple’s room, we crashed inside and wrapped ourselves around the special woman.
“Grams, I was so scared,” Stella sobbed, falling into her chest.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m okay. I’m okay,” Maple soothed. She looked over at me and gave me that warm smile that she always shared. “Some of us already knew I would be, though.”
I smirked back a little. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Right when this is over, you are having me signed up to be able to look over you, okay? You need someone to be able to get information on your health status, Grams,” Stella scolded. I knew it was just an overwhelming moment of emotions for her. For Maple, too, and she gladly agreed. “Is this what it was? My anxiety. I thought it was about the baby, but was it you, Grams? Is this what you saw?”
She took Stella’s hand and patted it in her grip. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
“Too late for that.” Stella gently chuckled as she kissed her forehead. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
The doctor came in and notified us of what was going on with Maple. She suffered from a heart attack that sent her into a coma. It was very touch-and-go for a while, but with some intensive care and time, she would be okay.
We stayed as long as we could, but once visiting hours were up, we were forced to leave her side. “We’ll be back tomorrow,” I promised her.
“I know that you will.”
I kissed her forehead gently and squeezed her hand before letting her go. “UB,” I told her.
She smiled. “I’m glad you found it again.”
“Found what?”
“Your light.”
Once we made it home, I told Stella everything that happened to me with the wicked stepmothers. She was in a state of shock and wasn’t exactly sure how to take it all in.
“I knew they weren’t the greatest people, but I’d never thought they’d take it that far,” she said as we lay in bed, cuddled up.
“Yeah, well. It’s a toss-up between doing things for money and doing things out of rage. They were all jealous of you.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you reminded Kevin of your mother.”
Her eyes softened, and she shook her head. “They weren’t ever together, though.”
“You don’t have to be with a person to hold the deepest type of love for them. And I’m pretty sure that’s what Kevin had for your mother. I see it when I look through his old photographs. A photographer on his own is good at what they do. But a photographer in love? It shows up a bit differently. The photographs hold that much more heart. Trust me, I know.”
She smiled softly, but it felt as if she was holding back some of her thoughts.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing, it’s just… I can’t believe they are really gone, my mom and Kevin. And with Maple almost…”
“She’s okay.”
“Yes, but there was such a big chance that she wouldn’t have been. And she’s still not out of the clear. I mean, any day, I could walk over there and find her like that again and…”
“Stella.”
“Yes?”
“Slow your mind.”
She smiled and took a breath. “Yeah, you’re right. Everything’s fine. Everything’s okay. I should just get some rest. I’m exhausted.”
A heavy amount of unease filled my gut as I lay beside her. I knew this feeling because I’d felt it a million times before. The feeling that an unspoken shift was happening. Something about Stella was different, and I couldn’t possibly pinpoint what it had been.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said, turning away from me and onto her side.
I placed my hand against her arm and slightly rolled her over so I could see her eyes. Those brown, brown eyes…
“Are we okay?” I questioned.
Then I saw it.
It was a sliver of a second. A slice of time that most would have missed, but I did not. I saw the shift in her stare and the unstableness of the moment before she blinked it away and pushed out a smile. “Yes,” she said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “We are.”
I kissed her forehead. “I love you,” I choked out, feeling as if the weight of the world was sitting against my chest.
“I love you, too,” she whispered back as she melted into her pillow.
That broke my heart because her I love you felt more like a goodbye.
I hated how good I was at spotting goodbyes.
38
Damian
* * *
Sixteen Years Old
* * *
“He’s such a weirdo,” Kyle said as I sat in the dining room of the group home. I was minding my own business because that was what I did best—minded my own fucking business.
People went out of their way to push me over the edge. Over the years, I’d learned quickly not to get too close to others. All I did was keep to myself and work on my photographer skills. My social worker Ms. Kelp bought me a camera a few years back, and every week she’d develop my photographs at the local drugstore, and then she’d sit with me and flip through the photographs.