If Only...

IT'S NOT TART

My back collides with the bed. Only one question lingers in my head.

Why?

Wasn't it enough that I had gone through hell once before? Wasn't it enough that I had put everyone I loved through hell?

"I wish I did, Alex."

"And . . ." Dr. Lloyd, who had been quiet up until now; and the only one seemingly unaffected by the tension in the room speaks up. "I wish I could tell you the treatment is going to work, Mrs. Moore."

The beeps jump, and then quicken.

No. This can't be happening.

"I just don't want to give you false hope."

"But there is hope! We'll know once we start chemo, Alex." Valerie adds, but it doesn't feel whole.

"But you can't fix me, can you?" I breathe, staring at the buttons on her coat. This was starting to sound like the clichéd climax to that movie. That I would be met with a disastrous fate only to have it turned around before the credits rolled.

But it didn't look like this would turn out that way. All I could see was the black before it all ended.

The beeps race.

It was all over. All this time, all these years, only to lead to this. A bottomless pit. An endless ocean. A nearing end. . .

No, please God. . .

"Alex, calm down." Valerie grips my hands, and she starts rubbing them gently. It might have offered me comfort had I let it. I was cold and shaking before I knew it. I had tears running down my face before I could sense it.

"You-you have to fix me, Val." I choke. The breaths were coming faster, but the pain spared no time. It came in all its bitterness.

"We'll do everything we can, Alex. I promise you." She stresses, looking straight into my eyes. But those green orbs shaken with agony don't house any reassurance.

I break again, crumbling to the space in between my knees. It hurts so much, but I can't tell if it is physical or all in my head. I wish all of this were all in my head. Why couldn't it just be food poisoning or a stomach ulcer? Why that?

Why me? . . .

"Crying won't change anything."

I stop sobbing with a gasp, and my head reflexively lifts to Dr. Lloyd. But I know, no matter how much it was matted and strained, I'd know that voice anywhere.

It was Danny who had just said it.

I stare at him standing still by my right, and feel that last speck of hope that we all know is buried deep down somewhere but refuses to surface, vapourize.

"What he means, Alex--"

"I meant exactly what I said, Valerie." He murmurs, and then lifts up to meet her gaze. Not mine. "We can't do anything now but wait for the result."

What result?

Did he just mean--

I gasp. No, he couldn't. He just couldn't!

But there I was thinking last night that nothing would go wrong. Who's to say I'm not wrong today too? Last night feels decades ago. And the bridge from then to today is broken beyond repair. There is no turning back now.

No, no, no!

I want to stop thinking. I want to be in his arms. I want him to lie to me. Blinking the tears out of my eyes, I reach my arms toward him desperately, despite what he's just said. But I know I must have mistaken it. Danny would never hurt me.

Would he?

I wait with my arms raised, beckoning to him one last time.

He moves away.

The room starts to spin, and my stomach flops. I slouch back into the bed with my head weighing a hundred tons.

"We'll give you some privacy." Valerie gushes, and motions to Dr. Lloyd before she ushers both of them out, closing the door behind them.

I half-expect Danny to envelop me in his arms the minute we're alone, and kissing me until it stops hurting, telling me loves me until it hurts.

But the other half wins.

He stands there perfectly rested, and if it weren't for his fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket, I would have believed that he isn't breathing.

My stomach flips again at that thought, but I can do nothing go wade it away. That fuel I required had burned out.

And the fire that stands right before me; it gutters.

"Why won't you look at me?" There is nothing left in my voice that reminds me of myself anymore. I'm a stranger to my own.

Danny's knuckles turn whiter, but he won't breathe a word. My mind begins to draw conclusions; which shoot daggers again, but I have no shield to fight them. I'm bare and done with.

"I'm . . . dying and you won't even look at me." My own words sting, but they still sound improbable and unfamiliar. Not five minutes ago; my entire world had turned upside down. Everything had come and gone in a flash. Everything I had ever seen, felt and thought . . . only to come to cease now.

"Oh, my God. Rosie . . ." That's when the gravity of the situation comes crashing down. I hear my desperate attempt at breathing as a cacophony of gasps, which draw out the tears again.

No.

"Sh . . . We didn't tell her anything." His voice closes, but it won't comfort me anymore. I hear him say that I'm just taking things too far before we know anything about my illness, but it doesn't work. I could feel the negativity radiating off of him.

And for the first time in my life, it doesn't help when Danny pulls me into his arms. I feel suffocated.

"This is a bad dream . . . Tell me this is a bad dream." I choke, crying into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby." He won't even hold me properly.

"Tell me it's going to be okay, Danny! . . ." My voice trembles at such a rate that I can't get the endings of the words out. I'm still shaking, in his arms, but it won't get any warmer. It won't get any better.

"I promised you I wouldn't lie to you."

"Please . . . tell me I won't die. I-I don't wanna die, Danny."

He lets out an agonizing groan, but he won't deny it. I pull away from him, and sit back on my heels.

"Tell me you won't lose me." Some form of control finds its way into my voice. He still won't speak. And just that silence puts the miles in between us again.

"You won't lose me, baby. I'm here." He swallows, reaching his hands out again. I sob, letting him hold me. That's not what I meant.

"I wanna see Rosie." His form tenses.

"In time."

"I don't know how much time I have left!" The more I try to hold back the tears, the more they come flowing out again. They were like the thoughts that raided my head.

Him, Rosie. . . how much longer do I have before I . .

"You're right." Danny whispers, his hold on me tightening for just a second. He then pulls away and takes a step back. I think he's going to fetch Rosie, but he does something I wouldn't have begun to expect, in the space and time we are in.

Danny takes in a deep breath, and then he gets down on one knee.