Page 22 of Castle's Cards

“I think you do.”

“Well, I don’t,” I quip in annoyance. “And no, I haven’t told her about Elise yet. I will when I’m sure that we’re going the distance.”

We’re both quiet as the waitress brings us our food. I want nothing more than to get up from this table and go home but I don’t want to leave my brother here alone. We dig in, the silence palpable over the table when Court clears his throat.

“I hope you know I wasn’t trying to convince you to do anything you aren’t ready for. I just wanted to see how you were feeling and where your head is at with her, that’s all. So don’t feel pressured or upset with me.”

“I don’t,” my tone is curt, punctuating my words as a lie.

“Are you serious about Addy?”

“What? I -– Of course I am! I’m seriously falling for Addy.”

“Whoa, it’s okay, no need to get grouchy.”

“I’m not grouchy, Court. I’m just… it’s not easy, being in this situation. I really like Addy, and I can see myself with her. But at the same time, I don’t know how I can move on from Elise. It feels like I’m doing something wrong by seriously considering someone else.”

“I doubt Elise would feel that way.”

“I know she wouldn’t. She told me so herself, that she wanted me to be able to move on and be happy. But it’s not about whether she would be okay with it or not. It’s about whether I’m okay with it, and no matter how much I tell myself that it’s what Elise would have wanted me to do, I can’t move on without feeling some kind of guilt, as if I am betraying Elisa, whether that’s true or not.”

Court opens his mouth but I feel emotions bubbling up that I don’t want to have. I stand up and rush out of the restaurant, eager to get somewhere safe.

I walk around the room filled with my wife’s things. When she died, I left her room as it was for three years. After that, Court convinced me that I needed to remove her presence from my daily life to help me move on.

But getting rid of her completely wasn’t an option for me. I needed to keep something from her to make me feel okay again. Every now and again, when I feel particularly melancholy like now, I come into the room and slip my wedding ring back on, trying to forget her absence.

I sit down in the big comfy chair that she constantly monopolized, covered in so many blankets that I was convinced she’d give herself heatstroke one day. I chuckle at the memory of her bundled up completely, usually holding a mug of hot chocolate or a handful of her favorite candy.

Looking around, I think about how devastating it was to lose Elise. Those last moments in the hospital were the worst days of my life.

I’m just grateful I got to spend them with her. That was lucky, right? Having plenty of money made things better.

That’s what everyone seems to think, anyway. But it’s not true, and no one knows that better than I do. Because no matter how much money I seemed to throw at the newest treatments and the best doctors, no amount of cash could save Elise from her fate.

Cervical cancer. The words that I still can’t say without wanting to cry. Once it metastasized and spread to her lungs, the doctors said there was a good chance she wouldn’t live through the year.

She didn’t.

Every day I live with the guilt that nothing I did could save her -- no amount of money or research or medicine could bring her back.

Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if she had gone to more check-ups, or if I had pushed her to go to the doctor more often. Elise hated going to the doctor.

I don’t know why, really. We always had enough money to cover any medical issues that might arise, and she grew up in a wealthy family so having money wasn’t new to her.

My suspicions tell me that Elise felt guilty about being able to go to the doctor any time she wanted to. She never seemed as happy or as comfortable as I am having so much money. Her family made their money by less than savory means, so maybe that’s why. But she always seemed to resent it, pushing away the things she wanted in order to live a more sedate lifestyle. If I hadn’t surprised her with the house, we would have ended up with something much more modest.

Elise was always giving to charity, too. I think she thought that if she gave enough money away, it would assuage her guilt for being in a better position than the rest of the world. No amount of giving seemed to help her, though.

In fact, the only time she seemed to feel better was after her diagnosis. Most people are devastated when they learn they have metastatic cancer, and rightly so. But when the doctor told her what was going on, Elise only seemed in some way relieved. Almost as if she somehow felt shedeservedto be seriously ill.

The last conversation we had was about how everyone is equal once they’re dead. The bugs and the Earth don’t discriminate for factors like money and social status.

There’s a part of me that will always wonder if maybe Elise had an inkling that something was wrong well before we went to the doctor for testing. I’ll never know if I’m right, but I can’t stop myself from wondering if Elise purposely ignored her symptoms so that she woudn’t have to deal with hearing the bad news and dealing with the resultant consequences.

Sadness wells up inside of me to the degree that I have to take my wedding ring off and shut the door behind me. Being in Elise’s room used to make me feel better.

But now I get no comfort being there.

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