“Ara!” He held a finger up, tilting his head awkwardly away as if he were fighting a deep, instinctual urge within him—what it was, I couldn’t tell. “Don’t say what you’re about to say. If you say it, it’s been said, and you won’t be able to take it back.”
I held onto the urge to yell at him, to scream at him, but I could only hold it so long; it burst out in a singular cry. I folded my face into my hand. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate—”
“Ara, Ara, stop.” He gathered me in his arms. “Ara, please, please don’t do this, my love.”
“No. You stop it. Don’t you call me that. You can’t call me that and then leave me.” I grabbed his shirt and looked deep into his eyes, my tears stopping. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You can’t leave. I’ll die if you leave, David. I’ll never be able to co—”
“You have to cope, Ara.” He unfolded my fingers from his shirt. “You’ve got no goddamn choice.”
“No. I do. This is love. This is life. I’m alive.” I tapped my chest. “I’m alive. We get a second chance, David. Don’t waste that.”
“I won’t.” He looked into me, and I could almost feel him reaching out to stroke my face, but though his eyes said he wanted to, his hands stayed by his sides. “I’m leaving you so you can live. A life with me—running, hiding, like dogs, Ara, would be a waste. I will walk out that door—” he pointed across the room, “—and you have the choice to either say goodbye to me now, or never have the chance again.”
It hurt so much—in my heart. I rolled my head back, letting my face crumple with the pain of his impassively conclusive words. “David. Please. You can't. I won’t live without you. I won’t, and you can’t make me.”
But he took another step away from me. “I’m sorry, Ara.”
My mouth dropped with the disbelief my heart suffered for each inch of space between us. The fight in me turned to fear, and I tried to move my legs—to get up and run after him, but they felt like jelly; I could barely even move my toes.
“David.” I reached out. “David. Don’t. Please. Don’t go.”
He looked away from me, his eyes scrunching tightly in the corners as he closed them.
“David, I love you. If I could take it all back, I would. Just, please. Please stay with me—please don’t leave me again. I want to be with you.”
“But you can’t be with me, Ara.” He appeared beside me, stroking his thumb over the release of tears down my cheek. “I left you with scars from my involvement in your life, and it’s time to put it right again. I love you too much to let you get hurt like that.” His voice trembled; he steadied it with a breath. “And I can never watch you die again. I swear—” he clutched a fist over his heart, “—as long as I walk this Earth, as long as I continue to move, I will have to believe that you are alive—that you still exist, or I will not survive this human life.”
“No.” I reached for him, just managing to grasp his shirt before he could pull away. “David, please—you’re making a mistake.”
Behind David, the door flung open and Mike’s smile dropped when he saw my face. “What have you done to her?” he growled, bounding toward me.
The tense energy tore away from the space between us as Mike pushed David aside. My outstretched hand gripped tighter, but my fingers slipped, and David backed away, one painful step at a time.
“Ara? What happened?” Mike asked, tucking my abandoned reach into my lap.
“No—” I pushed up from Mike’s embrace and searched the room for David; he hesitated by the door, holding it ajar as his gaze quickly averted once it met mine.
“I know this will be hard for you, Ara. Believe me, I will regret this decision for the rest of eternity,” his silky voice trembled. “But I cannot love you the way you are. I will only bring you pain.”
“David,” I whimpered. I’ll die without you. Can’t you feel that?
“Non, ma cherie. The sun will rise again in your world, but for me, it never will.”
“Then stay,” I whispered one last time.
He shook his head. “We were just a dream of mine, Ara…but even dreams eventually die.”
My eyes closed as the words he spoke touched my soul and broke my heart; when I looked up from Mike’s embrace, my David, my knight—was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Death, those of us who outrun it, can never escape it. It held me in its clutches long enough to steal my life, and though I could breathe and talk and was capable of human emotion on the outside, inside I was a cold, putrid corpse.
He left me—backed away, turned around and held his head high as he fled my life for eternity. No second chance, no discussion—just gone.
My body would heal, so they told me—it would take months of rigorous and painful physiotherapy, but it would, eventually, return to what it once was. But they were talking about my ability to walk to the bathroom by myself or breathe properly when sitting up. None of them knew what torments I suffered inside. Even the psychiatrist in Vicki couldn’t tell.
“Ara?” She broke my reverie, knocking on my already open door.
I looked up from pretending to read my book. “Hm?”
“Um—” She shuffled her feet. “Emily’s on the phone.”
“Vicki!” I slammed the book down. “I told you. No phone calls. I don’t want to talk to anyone.”
“But, Ara, honey, it’s been weeks—she just wants to see you’re all right.”
“Do I look all right? God, I can hardly even walk myself to the bathroom, I—”
“Yes, you can, you did it this morning, remember?” She grinned.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want visitors.”
“Are you sure, honey? It’ll only be a few mi—”
“I’m done arguing. I said no.”
“Okay. I’ll uh—I’ll tell her to call back another day.” Vicki nodded and closed the door.
I stared at the empty space for a moment, lip quivering, arms weighted with grief. I just couldn't do it. I just couldn’t let Em see me. I missed her so much. I missed school, missed normal life, but I was so goddamn ashamed. I didn’t even want to look at my own father, let alone my friends.
“Hey, ba—” I jumped, wiping hot tears from my cheeks, hurriedly grabbing my book as Mike swung my door open. “Ara? Baby, are you crying?”