Page 246 of Time Stops With You

No, I refuse to believe it.

I call Cullen’s number.

It goes to voicemail.

I call again.

Voicemail again.

I call again. Listen to it ring.

Mom’s hand gently covers mine and she holds my palm over the phone. “He said life without you would be torture, but seeing him die would be worse than death itself.”

“No.”

“I’m so sorry. I really am. Everyone can see how much you love him, but this is what he wanted. This is how he wants to leave this world. There’s nothing you can do when a man makes up his mind.”

The cell phone stops dialing.

I spring up with hope. “Hello?”

A robotic voice chirps out,“Sorry, the person you are calling is not available…”

Sorrow snaps out of my soul. A groan trembles through me, rising from somewhere deep and broken. I knew it was coming. He told me last night, but I still hoped for a proper goodbye.

In the background, I feel my mother guiding me. She turns me around and leads me to the guest room. I feel her lifting my hands and moving my legs to clothe me.

My mother leads me to the bathroom and I follow like a little lamb. She sits me on the toilet seat and wets a cloth. She gently wipes the mascara and smudged lipstick off my face. She takes a brush and runs it through my hair.

It feels like it’s all happening somewhere outside of me. I feel like a jar abandoned by its potter.

Empty.

So, soempty.

Mom tugs me to my feet and says gently, “The driver is outside.”

It hurts to see Roger again. He dips his head as if offering his condolences. What for? Cullen isn’t dead yet. He has more time. Wherever he is in this world, wherever he ran off to, he’s still alive.

I push myself to remember that as the days fly past. I work on my social media, growing my following and posting at least two cooking videos a day. With mom’s help, I sell food at my stall on Monday to Saturday, only taking a rest on Sunday.

Every night, I wait for Cullen to call.

He loves me. I know he does. He’s out there thinking of me right now. The distance will wear him down. He’ll let me hear his voice at least once. He’ll find some way to tell me that he’s okay.

The moment he calls, I’ll demand his location. Be it a hospital or the Bermuda Triangle, I’ll make my way to him.

But the phone doesn’t ring.

Cullen doesn’t call me.

In my anxiety, I start a list of all the cancer treatment centers in the city. There’s a chance Cullen left the state, maybe even the country—but I feel restless. Like I need todosomething. It helps to know there are places I can investigate if I need to.

Sunny calls as I’m compiling my list of hospital names.

“Everyone’s coming to the farmhouse tonight. Do you want to join?” she asks.

I copy and paste the contact number of another hospital into my spreadsheet. “I’m not feeling that great. Plus, I have to post a video.”

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