Page 233 of Time Stops With You

After I make the call to Richard, I rise from my desk and find Nardi cleaning up the living room. I flinch in disappointment when she folds up the Valentine’s Day blanket and sets it aside.

“Can you help me clear up these decorations, Cullen? I’ll change into regular clothes and go shopping.”

“I’ll go with you,” I say.

“Thank you.” She surprises me by reaching up and kissing my cheek. Eyes at half-mast, she whispers, “I promise. We’ll celebrate Valentine’s Day tonight.”

Nardi darts away to change while I happily put away the Valentine’s day chocolate and blankets for later. However, bending down and straightening again makes my head spin. And, for some reason, the simple act of carrying the chocolates to the kitchen exhausts me.

“I’m ready,” Nardi says, appearing once again in a regular T-shirt and jeans.

“Just a sec. Let me change into a T-shirt,” I say.

I shuffle to my bedroom and press a hand to my chest. The pain is different today. Usually, it comes and goes like the ocean waves. But today, it’s incessant and sharp.

Pills.

I’ll take those first before changing.

As I bend down to take them out of the drawer, the pain intensifies and I hiss, folding down onto the floor. Gritting my teeth until it feels like my jaw will crack, I wait for the pain to pass.

Finally, it does and I quickly take a pill while I have a reprieve. I’m in too much of a hurry as I drink and the water goes down the wrong pipe.

I cough into my hand.

“Cullen?” Nardi knocks on the door. A moment later, the knob starts turning. “Cullen, are you okay?”

“I’m… fine…” I wheeze.

The coughing subsides and, thankfully, the striking pain does too. I pull my hand away, intending to snap the cover back on my water bottle when I spot strange red spots on my palm.

At first, I wonder if my medication mixed with the condensation from the bottle and turned red somehow.

But when I look closer, I realize it’s not colored water on my hand…

It’s blood.

Twenty-Six

NARDI

A birthday banner hangs from the ceiling. Balloons have been blown and tossed around, adding color to Cullen’s monotone living room. A cake has been purchased. Pizza boxes fill the entire counter. There’s juice in the fridge for Cullen and a wide array of alcohol for the others.

A mixologist friend that I worked with in the past graciously agreed to help out despite the late notice. He shows off his bartending skills, shaking out a perfect mimosa topped with an olive and sliding it to me.

I doubt anyone will be able to drink too much since it’s the middle of the day, but I figured a little alcohol will help make things more festive.

Music pounds from the speakers and I repurposed the strobe lights to add a bit of excitement to the decor. This may be a party that was hastily thrown together, but it’s shaping up to be a great sixty minutes.

And yet I can’t shake the feeling that I made the wrong decision.

With every second that passes, Cullen seems to shrivel a bit more. For such a tall man, I’m stunned at his ability to shrink further and further into himself.

Should I tell everyone not to show up?

It’s too late. The doorbell rings and Sara arrives.

“Hey, Sara.” I give her a hug. “Wow. I haven’t seen you since Jenna…”

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