Page 16 of Unbreak My Heart

Oh, crap!

I jump up, pull my coat off the back of the chair, and while I’m trying to put it on and walk away at the same time, I shout at them, “Pay the bill, you monsters.”

I rush to the tube and wait, pacing, for the train to arrive. I glance at the sign saying seven minutes out. The seven longest minutes in history.

I stomp my foot on the floor once I’m in the carriage, as if by doing that the train will go faster. Then, as if a fire is lit under my feet, I run to the hospital, just to stop dead when I reach Gael’s room.

Right then, whatever he said, whatever he asked me to do comes rushing back and I’m unable to take another step forward. So I turn back, and sit on a chair that gives me a full view of his door. I place my elbows on my knees and my hands on my face, trying to stop my brain from spiralling and showing me all the memories we share together.

A few times, when the memories become too much to handle, I stand up and walk to his door. But I lack the courage to enter so I go back to the chair and sit, and then repeat the cycle. Trying to find the will to ignore his wishes and be there for him.

I glance at my watch, and my phone pings at the same time. And then again, notifying me of two messages. I open the family group chat, and there are pictures of my sisters at the pub with their fingers crossed, as if wishing me good luck. And then a message saying, “Take him down. We love you!”

That pulls a laugh out of me, and gives me the courage to once again stand and walk to the door. I take the knob in my hand, and without knocking, I push the door open.

Gael has his back to the door, so I make my way in without too much noise. If he’s sleeping I’m going to stay for a bit and then come back tomorrow to discuss me being here until he’s discharged. After I’m sure he’s well, he can turn his back on me again, and I’ll respect his wishes.

Right now, though, with the state he’s in, I don’t feel like I can leave him alone.

I can clearly hear my brain mocking me and telling me, “I told you so.”

Shut it, stupid brain.

The only thing I need to be careful of, is not getting too close to Gael. I need to focus on the fact that I recovered from his loss once, and I can do it again.

When I get closer, I notice the bed is trembling, and that the figure on it is doing the same.

Is he crying? Gael never does. And that makes me anxious. Did they give him bad news? Why wasn’t I here when it happened? I blame myself.

“Gael?”

“Cammy, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.” The use of my nickname has my eyes filling with tears, but I don’t mind them, too busy trying to care for Gael.

“Gael, I’m here.” I try to soothe and calm him down.

“Cammy, help me. Please, help me.”

My heart breaks into tiny little pieces at the need and desperation in his voice.

“I’m here,” I say to him, while I caress his hair and back. But nothing seems to work, because he keeps calling for me.

Pushed by the need to console him and make sure he knows I’m here, I climb onto the bed and become the big spoon. I bring my arms around him, noticing for the first time how skinny he truly is, and how small his frame is inside my arms. When we were younger, I could barely touch my fingers together when hugging him, but now I can grip my wrist with my other hand.

I push away the pain and pity, and focus only on making sure he’s fine and that he’s not desperately calling for me to save him.

I put my forehead against his back and murmur some soothing words, hoping they’ll break the fog that seems to have enveloped Gael.

Then when he calls for me again, I keep repeating the same words like a litany.

“I’m here now, Gael,” I tell him, over and over again, and that seems to do the trick. His sobs recede, his body slowly stops shaking, and he tries to get even closer to me. It’s like the heat I’m emanating is filling his body with a calm my words couldn’t achieve.

I don’t move, but slowly stop my chant, and that’s when his breath gets deeper and more regular. He’s moved from sobbing to sleeping, and I’m glad he’s finally resting.

I stroke his broken body and I’m overwhelmed by the feelings I had for him. My thoughts return to the past. Us in the same bed, just like now. But then, Gael was always the big spoon, because at that time I was the broken one. The one always fighting for my place in a world that couldn’t understand who I was. I was submerged and protected by the love he was transmitting to me through his body, his arms, and his touch.

Today, I want to offer the same things to him. A place where he can be safe and feel protected. Because despite whatever happened to us, inside some part of me, he’s still that young boy I loved with all my heart.

I pull him close to me, minding his broken body, and I’m glad when he seeks more comfort and pushes his whole body against mine. Regret, anger, pain, but also relief, all fight inside me right now. I can’t forgive him, but at the same time, I can’t forget what we had and what we could have been.

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