Page 91 of Sweet Nothings

I haven’t heard from Laurel since she texted me letting me know she was going to stay until they moved Roe into her own room. I don’t know what the next step is or where we go from here but my heart breaks thinking of the future. The same heavy feeling falls on my chest and my shoulders, the way it did with my mother. It’s like walking through a pitch-black room, searching for a light switch, but none exists.

“How is Laurel’s sister?” Jude asks.

I look down at my phone resting on the edge of my bathroom sink.

“I haven’t heard from Laurel since earlier, but last I heard, she’s stable now. They’re moving her up to the oncology floor. From what the doctor made it sound like, she’s probably going to be there a while.”

“Man,” Jude sighs on the other end of the line. “I feel terrible for Monroe and Laurel. Thinking about what they’re going through reminds me of?—"

“Don’t,” I cut in. My chest squeezes. “I’m sorry. I just…” I swallow. “I know where you’re going, man, and we don’t need to go over it again.”

“I’m sorry, Lennon.”

I don’t answer him. The image of my mother in the same hospital bed as Monroe comes to mind, just like my nightmare.

“You have to stop blaming yourself.”

I snap my head back to my phone, wondering if I must have accidently put him on a video call and he was able to read the expression I must have been giving for him to think I was thinking about our mother.

“Blaming myself for what?” I ask, shrugging off his comment. “Monroe didn’t want anyone other than Laurel to know about her sickness. I don’t blame myself for what happened tonight.”

“I’m not talking about Monroe. I’m talking about Mom.”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about this.”

“You did, and you say that as if it’s going to stop me.” He scoffs. “You’re my brother, and I know you. You’ve blamed yourself for years for the decision you had to make.”

“You’re right,” I fume, flaring my nostrils. “I do blame myself. She’s dead because of me.”

“No. She’s dead because of the cancer, Lennon.” He pauses, and I hear faint crying in the background. Must be my niece, Abbey. “Does Laurel know about your nightmares?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I didn’t have one until a few nights after our wedding, but I haven’t had as many since. They come every now and then, but not nearly as often as before.”

Abbey’s cries grow louder. I hear Jude’s footsteps and then his loud shushing fills the speaker. “Shh, it’s okay, baby girl.” He soothes her. She coos, immediately calming down when shehears her dad. “I wasn’t a fan of you marrying Laurel for the sake of the company, but I can see your marriage is different. She’s good for you, Len. Laurel is good for you.”

Heat rises in my cheeks. I can’t help but smile. “I know.”

Abbey makes more fussing noises in the background. “I need to get Abbey back to sleep. Please keep me posted on how Roe is doing. And if you and Laurel need anything, Victoria and I are here for you.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Oh, and Len?”

“Yeah?”

“You really should stop blaming yourself. Mom wouldn’t want you to. If she thought you couldn’t have made the choice and been able to live with it, she wouldn’t have trusted you to make that decision.” He clears his throat. “You deserve to be happy, Len. It’s what she would have wanted.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. It feels too heavy. All of it. “I’ll keep you updated. Give Abbey a kiss for me.”

“I will,” Jude says before ending our call.

I stare at my phone for several minutes, letting the silence sink in. Jude is right, it’s not what our mother would have wanted. All I need to focus on now is being there for Laurel.

Steam fills the bathroom as hot water flows out of the shower head. I step in and allow the water to slide down my back. It stings, but I welcome the relief it brings. I allow the day to unfold, crashing down on me like a tidal wave. It feels like it’s never-ending. Only hours ago, I was back in my mother’s house telling Laurel I love her. Now, I’m back at my apartment in Boston, staring at the bruises on my hand caused from hitting her brother.

I face the tiled wall and press my hands against it. I lower my head and stare at the floor. Water drips over my head. I close my eyes and think about Laurel, my heart swelling with love for her.

Seeing her in pain physically causes my own. She’s a part of my soul. We’re one, and until tonight, I didn’t realize how she’s not only a part of my soul, but she’s also completely consumed it. She’s claimed it as her own, and I have gladly fallen to both of my knees, begging her to take me.

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