Ella

I'm sitting the cafeteria, sipping a mediocre coffee while scrolling through my Twitter feed. It's riddled with images and videos of Shea and Kaleb outside the airport. People are quoting the images and videos with their opinions. There are lots of negative opinions about Kaleb and how things have apparently turned to shit since he arrived. Few people defend him, stating he's going through a rough time with his wife being ill. On the other side, many people are framing Shea as an abusive player. Without understanding the context of their conversation, I can see why people would assume the worst. Still, they shouldn't be assuming the worst.

Seeing these opinions makes me sick to my stomach. I shut my phone and and set it on the sticky table, face-down. Then I drop my face into my hands and expel a deep sigh. Today has been hellish, which is also an understatement. There's nothing I hate more than unresolved conflict. The fight Kaleb and I had earlier was ugly, and I think it contributed to making Melody's bacterial infection worse. Driving over to the hospital was not pretty. There was plenty of tension. Melody, in her delirious state, kept asking questions. All she received were short answers from both of us. In hindsight, I feel like a selfish jerk. Kaleb and I were so focused on being mad at each other that we couldn't focus our attention on Melody.

Just like I assumed, she's been diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia. Unlike Kaleb, I see this as a good thing. At least with bacterial pneumonia, there's a treatment. Antibiotics will help her recover. It would be a major relief if Kaleb weren't stuck in a rut. No matter how many times I try to explain the science behind bacterial pneumonia, he goes to the worst scenario his mind can conjure. There's only so much empathy I can give him before my annoyance spikes. He needs to get his act together. Melody needs him more than ever.

Right now, she's not getting that.

When I left her room, after she was hooked up to two IVs and an oxygen tube, Melody was unconscious. Kaleb was sitting beside her. His hand was laced with hers, and silent sobs were shaking him to the core. There is support in pain, but whenever Kaleb is home, he's distant. He can't separate the good from the bad. Which I know is difficult. I can't imagine the pain he's enduring, knowing that Melody will pass away. He has every right to cry. To feel his emotions and let them out. What's frustrating me is his inability to see he's not coping healthily. He needs a better outlet, be that me or Shea or Brenna, or a licensed psychologist. Instead, he's pushing everyone away like he's under the impression he has to endure this alone.

Rubbing my temples, I lean back in my chair and stare at the wall across from me. It's white with no hanging pictures or accents. Until a shadow crosses it. Beside me, a chair screeches against the linoleum flooring. I smell his cologne before he sits down. It's subtle, something citrusy with undertones of musk.

When Kaleb sits down, he sets a plastic-wrapped piece of carrot cake in front of me. My stomach grumbles. I haven't eaten since lunch. At home, Melody was my main concern. There was no time for me to eat. I know Kaleb is offering me an olive branch by exploiting my favourite baked good.

I give him the side-eye as I reach for it. My muscles are tight with tension. I'm wondering if we'll have another argument or if he's come to his senses. He owes me an apology. The way he treated me was unacceptable.

Slowly, I remove the plastic wrap. Icing coats my fingers, and I lick away the remnants. The first bite I take is huge. Crumbs fall from my mouth, covering my ragged sweater. Icing coats my lips. So when Kaleb holds out a napkin, I take it with gratitude. When I sneak a glance at him, his eyebrows are drawn together. There are dark half-moons beneath his eyes, and they're puffy from his tears.

"I'm sorry," he says.

I pin him with a cruel stare. It's the same one I used on him in high school. "For what?"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "For being a dick. I blamed you for something you didn't cause. You efforts are appreciated, Ella. More than you can imagine. I just..." He trails off and starts wringing his hands. "There's no excuse. I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again. That's a promise."

His words hang in the air for several seconds before I clear my throat. "What you did wasn't okay, Kaleb. I know you're hurting. Words have little value when they can't properly represent what you're feeling. I can understand that much. What I can't understand is why you're pushing people away. We love you, Kaleb. That's why we're your friends. All of us are here for you. You're not letting us comfort you, though. I'll accept your apology, but you have to talk to Brenna and Shea. You lied to them about what the doctor recommended. They're allowed to see Melody. Plus, you haven't thanked Brenna for all the frozen dinners she's made. There's enough lasagna to last five months, but it's the thought that counts. It's helped me a lot. With Brenna's food, I can focus on regulating Melody's medications more and—"

A sob cuts me off. During my rant, I started crying at some point. Hesitantly, Kaleb wraps his arm around my shoulders. I rest my head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ella."

"You're not the only one losing her, Kaleb," I choke. "She means the world to us, too. We love her in a different context."

He rests his chin atop my head. "You're right. I know. I've been an asshole. If Mel recovers, I'll talk to Brenna and Shea."

My finger jabs Kaleb in the side. It makes him flinch because he's ticklish around the ribs. "Quit being so fucking pessimistic, Kaleb Rose Jones! You're giving me a goddamn headache! Melody will recover. It's bacterial pneumonia. It can be treated with antibiotics. For god's sake, I want to strangle you sometimes. Honestly."

He chuckles. "Ella Taylor swearing. Never thought I'd see the day."

Pushing away, I poke him in the ribs again. He swats at my hand. Turning back to my carrot cake, I say, "Fuck you, Kaleb."

This time, he loses control. He laughs until he's hunched over the table, clutching his stomach while tears run down his face. As I watch him, I feel my face slipping. It's good to see Kaleb laugh, even during a time like this. The purpose of them getting married was to embrace the happiness. He needs to learn how to do that. Maybe this moment of delusional laughter will remind him about that.

Smiling, I pick off of piece of cake and pop it into my mouth.

Once he's done laughing, he rests his elbows on the table and sighs. "Why am I so fucked up?"

I swallow the bite of cake. "Because you're going through a lot? You're not fucked up. Some of your actions have been, but you, as a person, are not fucked up." I direct my gaze to his, meeting his dark-brown eyes. They're filled with sorrow. "Kaleb, you're a good person. Don't let your emotions fool you.

He grins, and my heart does a funny flip. Suddenly, it's difficult to breathe. His grin is one I haven't seen since high school. It's a grin that was usually reserved for me. For those moments when I would say something contrarian or make a joke only he understood. One corner of his mouth is slanted and he's biting his bottom lip.

A sudden rush of longing pulses through me. Longing for the old days, when all we had to deal with was my shitty father, a bet, and young love. Being an adult is hard. When comparing then to now, things were so mundane.

Before all this, life was easy.

I direct my gaze elsewhere, feeling the effects of lingering heartbreak. For the old times. For Kaleb and Melody. Without the illusion of youth, we're subject to life's cruelties.

His grin doesn't fade when he says, "Will any of us be okay after this?"

I fight back tears, remembering the promise I made Melody. She asked me to take care of Kaleb, but I think there was an underlying meaning. Her death will rattle our group. When she asked, I think she was implying we all take care of each other. The dynamics of this group are unique. When one person is off, everyone is affected. Affected but united.

I promised her Kaleb would be okay.

Now, I have to promise myself that everyone, including me, will be okay. Because I know Melody wants the best for everyone.

"You're gonna be okay, Kaleb," I say. "We all are."