In the Palm of My Hand

Chapter 16 - Final

May 3, 2013

"He's been in the hospital since April 31." She was still holding onto my shoulders. "I know this is a lot to process."

"You're lying. That's impossible. He can't be in the hospital." 

She shook her head sadly. "No. I'm not." 

I took her hands off my shoulders. "Take me there then. Take me there right now, and prove it." 

And so we went to the Northwestern Memorial Hospital. And she wasn't lying. He was there. At the hospital. And he wasn't just visiting. He was there, because he needed to be. 

"Tyler?" I started off walking, and broke into a run. "Oh my god. Tyler?!" 

He was sleeping. But I stayed with him all through the night, until he woke up. 

"Hey," he said with a smile. 

"Why are you here?" 

"Skylar told you?" he asked. 

I nodded, just as the doctor walked in. "What's wrong with him?" 

"You must be the girl he was talking about. Come into the hall with me, please?" As soon as we were outside, I began pestering him with questions. "Okay. Shhh. I will tell you everything. Mr. Malkovich has cancer in the brain. Also known as a brain tumor, okay? He's had it for a while." 

"Brain cancer?" I asked. 

"Brain cancer. There's nothing we can do. He has two days left to live. Didn't you notice anything wrong with him?"

"Nothing?" I asked. "NOTHING?"

"Nothing," he repeated.

"I never noticed anything... he was always so happy.. I thought.."

He looked at me sternly. "He never showed any signs of cancer?" 

"None," I replied, "But I have to go see him. I need to go see him. RIGHT NOW." I opened the door. 

"Hi."

"How ya feeling?"

"I'm happy." He smiled at me.

I nodded. "Good."

But I couldn't get the thought out of my mind. That I was losing him. That he was going to leave me. But.. all those fights. We broke up for a reason. And I couldn't go back on my words. It was true. I still had feelings for him, but did he feel the same? I couldn't tell. I stayed overnight at the hospital.

May 4, 2013  

"Skylar? Did you know?" I asked quietly. 

She stared at me. With regret in her eyes. And then she opened her mouth. "Yes. I knew." 

"You knew he was going to die?" 

She swallowed hard as if this was hard for her to admit. "Yes." 

"Did you know that tomorrow is his last day?" 

"Yes." 

"How long...?" I forced the lump in my throat to stay down. My eyes felt glassy. 

"Since February..." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"It wasn't my secret to tell." She replied simply. 

"He's in there, fighting for his life, and you didn't tell me?" 

She shook her head sadly. "No. He's not fighting. He's accepted it. And you should too. There's nothing you can do now."