Page 73 of Doctor One Night

She’s gone. Just like that. All the distance, all the walls I put up between us are more like a prison now keeping all of the pain in instead of keeping it out. I spent so much time being angry, being resentful, all that’s left is this crushing grief, this sense that I failed her. That I failed us both.

I drop the phone beside me, burying my face in my hands as the tears come harder and faster until I’m sobbing. The weight of everything crashes down around me. And for the first time in a long, long time, I let myself feel it all.

7:10 pm

I don’t know how long I’ve been driving, but the city lights blur past, the steady hum of the engine the only thing grounding me.

Getting out and getting some fresh air to clear my head was all I could think about. Anything that doesn’t involve sitting alone in my apartment and drowning in thoughts of what I should have done differently.

Without really thinking about it, I text Frankie. She seems like a life raft at this point, something to keep me from slipping under.

Hey. You up for a walk?

This has somehow become our thing we do together. And it is good for me. I need it now.

It’s impulsive, but I can’t be alone right now, not after everything that’s happened. Walking is something I can manage, something that's controlled, a way to keep my emotions at bay.

Her response comes quickly.

Sure, but I dropped my car off for service today. I can’t pick it up until tomorrow. Wanna pick me up?

I don’t hesitate to reply.

I’m close by. Be there in a sec.

I stick my head in through the cracked door and call out. “Hello? Frankie? I'm here.”

“I'll be right out,” she yells from the back of the house. “Make yourself at home.

I pause, suddenly overcome with the emotions I thought I had tucked back away in the dark caverns of my psyche. All of them are threatening to surface. The idea of walking seemed like a good way to avoid confronting them, but now, standing here in her living room, everything seems front and center again. Something about being here, about seeing her.

I sink onto the couch, the cushions soft beneath me. Frankie joins me only seconds later. ”Hey, you. Looks like you already had your workout. You saved the warm down for me. You know me so well!”

“Yeah, I got in some weights earlier. Sorry if I'm stinky.”

“You're not at all. I could just tell you've already been to hell and back.”

If only you knew, I want to say.

For a few moments, we just sit there, the quiet of her home wrapping around us as she fiddles with the zipper on her lightweight hoodie.

“I got a call this afternoon,” I start, my voice rough but something driving me to share with her, to seek comfort. “From my mom.”

Frankie turns to face me, her expression gentle, encouraging me to continue.

“Oh? Is everything okay?”

“It was strange,” I say, rubbing a hand over my face. “Her words were slurred, and she she apologized for some things that happened years ago. And then the call just ended.” Suddenly, I regret bringing this up right now. Clearly, I wasn't thinking.

I'm having a hard time forming cohesive sentences. There are some things I know if I say them I will completely lose my shit and I do not want to do that. But the words keep spilling out.

Frankie grabs my hand. She must see that I'm struggling. She doesn't say anything, which I appreciate. I didn’t realize how much I needed that touch until now.

“I called 911, and then I called her oncologist,” I continue, my voice trembling. “They found her at her house. She was… she was already gone by the time they got there. I didn’t do enough,” I continue, my voice breaking. “I should have been there. I should have… I don’t know. I should have done something.”

“You couldn’t have known, Hunter,” Frankie says softly. “You did everything you could. You’ve been doing everything you can.”

I shake my head, the tears I’ve been holding back finally slipping free. “She told me she was proud of me, for the first time in my life, and now she’s gone. I didn’t even get to tell her…”

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