Page 62 of Bleeding Hearts

“And Dr. Thomas? He was your doctor?”

“Yeah, he was one of them.” I nod.

“So, you grew up here? In Portland?” she asks, her voice gentle. “And your family lives here? Did you not tell them you were visiting?”

“Born and raised. Yes, they still live here, and no, I didn’t tell them I was visiting.” I sigh.

“Why?”

“It’s complicated. They’re not bad parents. They were just too competitive to be good parents when I was a kid. They’re better now, but back then, it was a mess.” I pause, thinking about the best way to explain the situation.

“When I was first diagnosed, the two of them were determined to be the most supportive they possibly could be. They spoiled me with anything and everything I could’ve wanted, probably trying to distract me from my reality at the time. At first, it was amazing, a fifteen-year-old kid getting everything he could ever dream of, but then it turned into a competition.

“Whatever my dad got me, my mom had to do better. If my mom loved me, my dad loved me more. It was a constant cycle of them trying to prove they were the better parent, better supporter than the other, and I was always caught right in the middle of it. Eventually, it destroyed their marriage and they got officially divorced pretty much right after I finished my second round of chemo.”

“That’s awful, Asher,” she says.

“Oh, that’s not the worst part.” I let out a strained laugh. “About three years ago, after being divorced for almost seven years, the two of them decided they actually do love each other and got remarried. This was after years of splitting holidays between the two of them because they couldn’t stand to be in the same room. And making sure I didn’t spend a second more with one than the other because then I may love that parent more.”

“That sounds…” Her words trail off as she tries to think of a word to describe the fucked-up situation.

“Delusional? Yeah, pretty much.” I sigh. “Anyway, they still argue like crazy, but I guess they’re happy in their own strange way.”

“You just wish they didn’t put you through all of that to get there.” She nods, piecing it all together.

“Exactly.” I nod. “I still visit them. I’m not evil. I just didn’t want to subject you to all of that while we’re here. Or maybe I’m just using you as an excuse. Either way, I hadn’t planned on telling them I was here.”

“Well, I’m happy to be used in this situation.” She smiles before it drops off her face, a more serious expression taking over. “And the cancer? Is there a chance it could ever come back?” She bites her lip nervously.

“After how long it’s been gone, it’s rare. But yeah, there’s always a chance,” I say, speaking out loud the words that have terrified me for so long.

“That’s why.” The words leave her lips at barely a whisper, making it seem like she is talking to herself more than me. “That’s why you don’t do relationships, why you live the way you do.” She nods as she puts it together. “Between your parents ruining your views of healthy relationships, your need to not waste your life because you know how precarious it could be, and your fear of the cancer coming back, of course you don’t want to settle down.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I mean, I didn’t for a long time, but it’s not something I’m firmly against now. It’s just…” I pause, trying to explain. “I don’t know how to just accept the fact that I could fall in love and tie my life to someone just to force them to lose me if the cancer does come back.”

“Well, that’s selfish as fuck,” she says, and my eyes shoot up to hers. “You think you’re being noble, saving your future wife the heartbreak, but you’re actually making a decision for her based on something that hasn’t even happened. Who’s to say your cancer will come back? And who’s to say, if it does, that you won’t fight it and beat it a second time? And who’s to say it’s your decision if I want to be there for you?” She rambles the questions out one after one, her voice growing in volume with each one.

“If you want to?”

“What?” she asks, confused.

“You said who’s to say it’s my decision if you want to be there for me?” I explain, repeating her words for her.

Her eyes widen with shock for a moment before she shakes her head.

“I just meant anyone in general,” she corrects herself. “Don’t let fear take that away from you.” She sighs.

“I’d want you there with me,” I admit, and she looks up to meet my stare.

She doesn’t say anything as her eyes search mine. We sit in silence, our eyes locked in a battle of truths, revealing everything neither of us has been willing to say. Revealing all the feelings neither of us have been willing to act on.

It should be awkward, sitting here staring at each other this way, but it’s not. It’s not necessarily comfortable, either.

It just is.

The world fades around us and it’s just the two of us.

I don’t know who moves first, her or me, but suddenly our faces inch closer to each other. Our pounding hearts and quick breaths are the only sounds filling the room.

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