Page 89 of Misery and Ecstasy

Prior to a month ago, I used that pain to set a course for the rest of my life.

The way I’ve always kept people at arm’s length.

How long it takes for me to give someone my trust.

You lose a piece of yourself every time that trust is broken. When someone hurts you so badly you don’t know how you’ll survive it. The size of the piece is measured by how much of yourself you freely gave and how much was taken.

I imagine the impact is no different if that person doesn’t intentionally hurt you, but the circumstances of their departure out of their hands.

My mother.

A death sentence for me would be one for her, too.

The limitations I set on our relationship were made in part so she would figure out how to live again. Sometimes you have to figure shit out on your own. You’re not always going to have someone else there to hold your hand.

She had gotten the hang of it enough to find a new husband and get lost in love again for a little while. But when the honeymoon period was over, it was like she began to distance herself from Alexander so she wouldn’t get hurt again.

Guess that toxic trait runs in the family.

And Draven...

I should have stayed away from him for the same reason that I don’t let people get close.

They always leave.

He trusted me to help him during one of the lowest moments of his life—if notthelowest. He probably shouldn’t have.

I know he loves me, but how deeply can you truly love someone after such a short period of time? If I put a stop to things now, he may stumble a little, but it won’t kill him the way it will if he has to watch the life of yet another person he cares about slowly drain away.

If there is one final thing I can do to help him, it will be to cut him off.

“Ms. Caraway?” A woman with gentle eyes and a strong smile pulls me from my dark tailspin as she enters my room—in the hospital’s oncology ward. “Hi, I’m Dr. Reeves. I’m a neurosurgeon here.”

Neurosurgeon?

That’s one of the scariest things I’ve ever heard.

“My team and I were just looking through what Dr. Bennett sent over. You’ve got a tumor measuring roughly six centimeters on your left frontal lobe.”

Never mind.Thatis the most horrifying thing anyone has ever said to me.

She looks at me, explaining it like she wants to make sure I fully understand what’s happening.

While I comprehend each singular word that leaves her mouth, understanding them all together in one sentence is impossible.

“I’m working with my team to decide whether we should do a biopsy or go ahead and schedule you for surgery.”

“I think I’m going to be sick…” Dr. Reeves moves quickly, grabbing a kidney-shaped bowl from the counter nearby. She holds it out to me a millisecond before I lose my breakfast. I grip the sides of it for something to hold onto. Tears stream down my face, not entirely caused by the force of my stomach expelling the food from my body.

When it appears as though I’m finished heaving, Dr. Reeves hands me a paper towel and takes the bowl away.

“I’ll get you some water to rinse with, okay?”

I don’t answer before she’s already on her way out. As I wipe the vomit from my mouth, I feel myself beginning to hyperventilate. As much as I wish I were strong enough, there’s absolutely no fucking way I can do this on my own.

Before I can spiral completely, Dr. Reeves returns.

“Here you go.” She gives me a new bowl at the same time as she hands me the water. I rinse and spit as she continues speaking. “I was told you came here by yourself, but is there anyone you want to call? I know this is scary. It will help to have someone to lean on.”

---