Page 224 of Severed Heart
Zach nods, his eyes lingering too fucking long as I will myself the strength to pull this off, keeping my steps measured as Russell and I stalk toward the parking lot. It’s when the reality of what’s happening registers a mere step outside of the garage—the truth of it far too debilitating—that I trip up, stumbling between strides.
She’s leaving me.
Russell catches my slip instantly, hoisting me against him. A heartbeat later, Zach speaks up with a “Can I come?”
“Next time,” I call out from Russell’s passenger door before I snap it closed, managing to clip out my order. “Get me home.”
Within a blink, Russell is whipping us out of the parking lot and has us idling roadside. As a car passes, blocking our quick exit, my eyes dart to Russell’s rearview—to the kid now running towards us before Russell stomps on the gas, turning in the direction of the orchard. As we take off, Zach’s shouts and pleas seep through the passenger glass, and straight into my seizing heart.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to his reflection, “I’m so sorry,” I choke out as Zach piles his hands on his head, face twisted in anguish. Knowing he feels betrayed, I try to make peace with our future fallout, to protect him from one of life’s biggest cruelties. To keep his last memory of her as one of us departing her room, smiling as she shooed us away, her own attempt to protect us both. That truth setting in as Russell races me toward the orchard. Toward home. A home that’s disappearing as the seconds tick by and a mental image of our front door shutters in, as do dozens of images of her on either side of it. Of the first time she raced to it with the key in hand. As she grinned over at me while lining the kitchen shelves with paper. Of her meeting me at the tractor with tea. Of the two of us bundled on the porch swing to watch the sunset last night, squeezing one another’s hands tightly—knowing. Knowing today was coming. All those memories reflecting in eyes of silver, in the call of my name. The call of home. One I can hear so clearly now.
“Soldier,”she summons, finding me as she always does in the dark.
“I’m on my way,” I whisper back. “Please don’t go.”
“Soldiers don’t stay,”I hear eighteen-year-old me echo back through to the first time I asked her to wait—just as she asked me to stay.
“Tyler,” Russell says in a steady voice, “talk to me.”
“Delphine’s about to die,” I deliver point-blank to both of us.
“How do you know?”
“I just do, please,” I croak, “get me home.”
“Jesus, man, I’m so—”
Shaking my head adamantly to cut off any condolences, I issue my first order. “Call Tobias and Dom—” I cut my words as he stares over at me, realizing just how far I’ve already slipped as agony lances through me. I’m already traveling to the place the sensible me can’t reach. Dom’s not here to call. He’s not here. Dom’s gone too. Everything feels gone ... feels wrong. She’s dying. She’s leaving me.
Go.
GO.
GO!
Russell’s words filter in from somewhere in a faraway place. In response, I grip the handle of his door and clip out my order. “Repeat that.”
“I’ll call Tobias . . .”
“Soldier,”Delphine summons.
“... hold everything down. Don’t give it a second thought,” Russell assures. “Don’t lose a second worrying about us, brother.”
I nod as a tidal wave of awareness crashes into me. The next time I see Russell, she’ll be gone. The next time I drive my truck, she’ll be gone. Everything will change. Everything has already changed.
Darkness threatens to engulf me, but I order its release just as quickly, refuting its ability to claim me. It’s Russell’s curse before he barks my name that brings me somewhat back to. His words becoming more muffled as my ears thunder, filling with my pulsing heartbeat. Spinning, I’m fucking spinning out, and she needs me. As I fight to keep myself upright in my seat, Russell presses his palm into my chest. “Tyler, you good? You just blacked out, man.”
“Get me to her,” I beg, “please,” I add, knowing I need to gather myself to be there for her, for Zach, but I can feel my ability to balance has already left me.
“Tyler!” Russell shouts as I blank out again, feeling myself sink in the seat. In the next second I’m focused on the asphalt we’re consuming as Russell races us toward the orchard, somehow already engaged in a phone call. I pull my own cell out of my pocket, unsure if I want to know if she’s already gone. Utterly helpless, darkness again threatens to cloud my vision as my psyche begs me to allow it in. To blink myself out of the state I’m in. I kissed her before I left. Told her I loved her. Palmed her head and whispered my fingers over her crown. Did she feel it? Did she feel my love? Would what I left her with be enough? My chest rages with the answer as I speak to her God.
Please, please don’t take her yet. Let me say goodbye. It’s my one ask. One. If you’re there, this is all I’ll ever ask of you.
“Peter, listen to me,” Russell rattles off as my own cell rings in my hand.Sheila, her hospice nurse’s name appearing on screen. Whatever words she has for me having the power to dismantle me within the length they’re spoken. I can still feel her. She can’t be gone. She can’t be.
“Soldier,”I hear her call as if she’s right next to me.
“I’m coming,” I whisper back.
