Page 4 of Enchanted

Swallowing back tears, I dialled Dave. It rang, and rang, and rang.

I was just about to give up when he answered. “Eth? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

I held the phone away from my ear, wincing at the torrent of sound. “What is that?”

The noise faded. “Sorry, babe, just stepped outside. Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah. Where are you?”

“Just at the pub. Jono and some of the others persuaded me to sneak out for a quick one. Shit, have you finished already?”

I fought back tears. So, Dave couldn’t find time to come with me for my chemo sessions, but he had no difficulty getting to the pub with his mates.

Maybe I wasn’t being fair. He’d come to my sessions at the start, holding my hand through each one. I couldn’t expect Dave to put his whole life on hold for me. I was the one dying, not him. There was no reason why he couldn’t go on living.

“Babe? Fuck, I’m late, aren’t I?” I could hear his scuffing footsteps, his car beeping as it was unlocked. “I’m so sorry, Eth. I’m on my way now, I swear. I’ll be twenty minutes. Thirty, tops.”

“It’s okay,” I heard myself say, even as my muscles wept at the thought of waiting another half hour. “Shall I meet you out front?”

“Yeah, that works.” A car door slammed on the other end of the line, then there was the sound of an engine revving. “See you soon. I’m sorry.”

“No worries.” I gave a tight smile, forgetting he couldn’t see me. “Drive safe.”

The beep in my ear told me he’d hung up already. Probably to focus on driving.

I wished he’d said goodbye.

Fuck, I had to stop letting such minor stuff bother me. It was bad enough that Dave’s carelessness had annoyed me before I was sick. I wasn’t about to let it taint our final months together.

My final months.

That was still so hard to think about.

Pocketing my phone, I turned back towards the hospital, slowly making my way to the pickup point. When I’d first been diagnosed, I’d been glad that I didn’t have a family. My dad had taken off when I was a teenager, with my mum passing away three years ago. I was an only child, no cousins or other relatives who knew or cared about my existence.

I’d always been jealous of those who had a big family. People who loved and cared for them unconditionally. Take Matty, for example. He didn’t just have loving parents, but a fiercely protective brother who’d given him a place to live. Riley had a complicated relationship with his mum, but there was no questioning the deep love they shared.

As for Lucky? Well, he had even less family than I did. But with his two partners and the tight-knit group they belonged to, I liked to think he didn’t feel it as much these days.

All the jealousy had faded away that day in the doctor’s office. One look at Dave’s ashen face, and I’d been glad I didn’t have a family.

That’s the worst thing about cancer. It’s not just the person it takes, but the loved ones who are left behind. Who have to watch someone they care for fade away day by day.

Dave was going to suffer that fate for me. That was why I never held it against him that he couldn’t come to all my treatments. I could only imagine how hard it had to be for him, being reminded that my time here was coming to an end. That our relationship had an expiration date that neither of us had put there.

Never thought I’d be grateful for how lonely and isolated I’d become over the past few years, but I was. It was bad enough that Dave was having to go through this.

I didn’t want anyone else to suffer because of me.

I was lost in my thoughts as I stepped into the road, so focused on the death in front of me that I didn’t realise it was coming from another direction entirely.

Everything happened in slow motion.

A screech of brakes on my left.

Metal crunching.

Searing pain along my hip.