32. Flowers
32. Flowers
Dylan and I had had woken up in a rush, seeing as that we both had work in the morning. I declined his offer, even when he kept insisting, and walked to work instead. I needed time alone, as well as time away from him. In the end, it would just make everything else so much more harder.
Work went by with a blur and before I even knew it, my shift ended. Thankfully the new hire, Aiden, wasn't scheduled. He would have made my mood even shittier.
As usual, Dylan knew when my shift ended, and right on cue, he entered through the front doors, the soft chime signalling as he did. I felt my heart pound faster when my eyes landed on his. His face lighting up as his eyes locked with mine. He looked breathtaking, as usual—nothing new. His face was a slight shade darker, the stubble already growing back after one day of a missed shave, but I would be lying if I said I didn't like that look.
"Everything okay?" He asked, stepping closer. I gave him a nod and a small smiled. He furrowed his eyebrows, but let it go nonetheless. However, I knew he would bring it up again, to make sure if I really was okay. "You want to go somewhere? I think you'll really like it there and since the sun is just about to set—"
"I think I'll just go home," I interjected quietly. I bit the inside of my cheek as I watched his facial expression fall, his smile turning into a frown and the excitement in his eyes immediately fading. He blinked. Once. Twice. Then slowly nodded.
"Can I at least drive you home?" He asked, immediately perking up. I gave him a slight nod, not being able to bring myself to deny him once more. He led to me his car, opening the door for me as usual.
I was being a bitch; shooting down every idea of his, when he clearly wanted the opposite.
Once I had settled in, he started the car. We reached my driveway in a matter of minutes, and before I got a chance to leave the car, he locked the car doors. "Dylan..."
"Is everything okay? And don't give me that bullshit answer, okay?" He said softly, reaching for my hand. I moved it before he got the chance.
"I'm just really tired," I lied, breaking our eye contact, finding interest in the buttons for the radio.
"Do you want me to come in?" He asked hopefully. "I can make you something to eat, or give you a foot rub maybe? We can watch a movie and I can stay until your brothers or parents come back. You said you're tired, so I can stay if you want to sleep," he rambled.
"I think I'll just take a hot bath," I denied, shooting him down. "But thank you." Without looking at him, because if I did, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold my façade, I manually unlocked the door, and went inside.
I really am a bitch.
I heard his car pull of the driveway moments after sitting in my driveway for a minute or two. I sighed and took off my shoes and made my way to the kitchen. The house would be full in about an hour, so I'm sure everyone would be hungry.
I started to prep for lasagne, garlic bread and a delicious zucchini salad. Since I had the meat already ready to go, it didn't take long. The whole time I was cooking, my mind couldn't help but wander back to Dylan. Dylan and his bright blue eyes. I didn't realize I was crying until a tear fell onto the back of my hand.
I quickly wiped my tears when I heard the front door jingle and the voices that followed. "How was the conference?" I asked, clearing my voice, entering the foyer. I took their bags from their hands, putting it off to the side.
"It was pretty much boring," Mariana answered, a yawn following.
"Oh shut it. You know you only came to eat," James rolled his eyes, giving her a kiss to her temple.
"It's not my fault! Your kid is the one who wanted the food," she protested, rubbing her now protruding belly.
"Our," he corrected, giving her a hug from behind. My eyes lingered a little longer on her belly before I turned to mama and papa, plastering a joyful expression.
"How was it?"
"It was great," papa smiled. "My next project is expected to start in a couple of months."
"Congratulations!" I grinned, giving papa a hug. Every year or so, papa's company holds a conference to go over the next few big projects planned out and promotes a few to lead the projects. It really wasn't a surprise that papa was chosen, again.
It wasn't always like this though. It was very difficult for papa to find a job with his little knowledge of English a little before Mariana was born. Then soon, the twins were born, and papa knew he needed to keep a roof over their heads, and a minimum wage job wouldn't cut it. When the three of us were born, and then mama leaving the hospital with just Shane and I, we were brought to a three bedroom complex apartment. It was small, but cozy.
As the years went by, papa worked harder and harder, maintaining to keep a roof over our heads and food on our plates, along with mama who had to watch all five of us who were under ten, while balancing her nursing career. It was difficult to say the least, from what I heard.
I grew up learning from my papa who worked very hard to be where he is now, and fluently learning the English language was one of them. I was proud of papa. I was proud of both my parents. A doctor and a contractor from the top companies in the province.
You couldn't tell we were struggling only eight or so years back, especially with this house where we all comfortably lived in.
It was why I also had gotten my braces late. Extra expenses were dismissed when there was a bigger problem on hand.
"It smells delicious honey," mama commented, giving me a hug. "Have you been crying?" She grabbed my face, inspecting it closely. I shook my head.
"Onions," I fibbed, averting her judging eyes. "Foods almost ready, you all should wash up. Shane texted, they should be home in about half an hour."
"Great. Where's Amber?" She furrowed her eyebrows as I helped her and papa with the bags up the stairs.
"Oh, she left not too long ago." Another lie.
"Mhm, I see," she commented with a smirk. She looked over her shoulder watching as papa disappeared into the bathroom. "Toothpaste is great way to help with that," she nodded towards my neck.
I looked back at her retreating figure with confusion. My eyes widened when it had dawned at me. I rushed to my bathroom, groaning when I saw two small love bites on my neck.
--
"Ready for tomorrow?" I asked into the dark room as Shane and I hopped into my bed.
"No," he admitted quietly. "My hair is going to be gone," he chuckled lowly.
"What time are we leaving tomorrow?"
"You don't have to come," he sighed, turning over in the bed so he was facing the ceiling. "I know how much you hate hospitals."
"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" I repeated.
"Eight," he muttered, fluffing his pillow.
"Then I'll be there," I promised. I was going to be there through every step of the way.
Just before I was about to fall asleep, Shane spoke again. "Do you think you would be able to shave my hair tomorrow?"
"If that's what you want," I replied a moment after, stopping the tears from surfacing. This was real. This was really happening.
"And don't you even think about shaving your own hair. Tyler already said he would, even when I told him not to." I smiled at that. Tyler loved his hair more than Amy. "You can shave mine, so you don't have to shave yours, deal?"
"Deal."
--
The next morning was hard. With Shane and his first round of his treatment, he was being as positive as he could be, cracking jokes too often to lighten the mood, but it didn't work. As per his request, only mama, papa and Tyler had made to the hospital. Everyone else remained home. He didn't want to be overwhelmed with the amount of people and I completely understood.
Before his appointment started, I shaved both Shane and Tyler's head. I wasn't going to lie, it felt different to see both Shane and Tyler without a full head of hair. I wonder if Tyler had told Amy about his choice.
The appointment dragged on with loads of post op and lab check ups before he started his treatment. I remained at Shane's side at all times, whenever I could. It must've been hours until Shane was finally set to go home.
To my surprise, Dylan was waiting for me at my house when we had returned from the hospital. My mood immediately lifted after seeing his gorgeous face. "Hey."
"Hi." I gave him a small smile, keeping to myself slightly after remembering what I promised myself what I would do. "What are you doing here?" I asked softly.
"I wanted to check up on you. After yesterday, and then today with Shane's appointment. I want to see how you're doing," he replied, stepping closer. I stepped back a little. He stopped in his tracks, noticing, a look passing over his face, but disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
"I'm fine." I plastered a fake smile on my face, but I knew it was no use; he saw through it.
He sighed. "You're lying to me," he said quietly, hurt laced in his voice. "I don't know what happened in the past two days, but I-I was hoping we could talk? Maybe it will get your mind off things? I've missed seeing you and your beautiful face." His voice cracked.
"I-I—Dylan, Shane needs me right now," I replied, shaking my head and walked to my front door. It hurt to walk away from him. I didn't want to.
"Is it because what I said the other night?" That stopped me in my tracks. "It is, isn't it?" He called out.
"I can't do this right now," I stuttered out, shaking my head slightly. "I have to get back to Shane." I didn't look back as I entered my house and shut the door behind me. I am a horrible person.
I rested my head against the door, trying to count out even breaths.
"Well that was pathetic." Shane's voice startled me, causing me to jump. "What's going on between you two?"
"Nothing," I murmured, furiously blinking my eyes. "Why aren't you in bed? Come on, you need to rest."
I helped Shane up the stairs, and it wasn't long until he fell asleep after protesting he wouldn't sleep. His head was snuggled into his pillow, his newly shaven head peaking out from under the covers.
I left the room moments after, making sure everything was okay.
I made my way to the guest room in the basement, finishing the last parts of the newest piece I've been slaving over during any of my free time. I had started this weeks ago, and I didn't want to abandon it. Even if Dylan would hate me, he deserved to see this piece I made for him.
--
Days went by and I spent them through a consistent rotation of hospital appointments, work, and then declining any offers Dylan made, essentially avoiding him at all costs. I didn't know how to face him, especially after what he said. He was persistent; he made phone calls, texts, work and house visits.
Now, I stood outside his house, my fist hovering over the door. I took a deep breath in, and then let it out. Slowly my fist met the door, thuds following after it. The door opened. It was his mom.
"Amelia. Would you like to come in?" The look on her face already confirmed that she knew what was going on between Dylan and I. Sympathy perhaps; was directed at us.
"I'll stay out here if that's okay. Is D-Dylan here?"
"He should be here from work any minute. You're welcome to wait inside," she offered again, opening the door wider.
I shook my head, declining again. She gave me a polite smile, nodding, and closed the door. I sighed and sat down on the porch and waited.
Five minutes later, I heard his car pull up to the driveway. My heart thudded, and my mouth suddenly felt like sandpaper. Was I making the right decision? I didn't have a chance to make a run for it because he walked up to his door, stopping in his tracks when he noticed me on his porch when he lifted his head from his phone.
"Lia," he breathed out, immediately pocketing his device and solely focusing on me. He opened his mouth but then closed it again, not knowing what to make of the situation. I didn't blame him. I avoided him the past couple of days, and now I've showed up to his house. "Did you go home?"
"No," I furrowed my eyebrows, then shook my head. "I-I—We need to talk." I stated, standing up, my fingers twitching anxiously.
"Do you want to come in?" He asked with hope, eyes lighting up. "I know what you're going through, I can help," he said softly.
I bit the inside of my cheek. He thought I was being distant because of Shane and his cancer. He thought I needed time for myself. He still wanted to help me after the few days that I have been nothing but horrible to him.
"I think it w-would be better if we stayed out here." I stated, avoiding eye contact as I spoke. I knew I would brake down if I looked into his ocean blues. He kept his lips in a thin firm line, nodding, remaining silent.
I just had to get it out there. No point of sugar coating it, I kept telling myself. I can do this.
"I think we should see other people," I blurted out. There. I said it. I didn't miss the look of shock on his face, clearly not expecting that.
I didn't want to see other people. I only wanted to see him.
"What?" He choked out, blinking quickly, surprised at what I said. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to comprehend what he just heard, and not imagined it.
"I'm breaking up with you," I stuttered out, not being able to hold back the the few tears from escaping.
"I thought everything was—why?" He asked, his voice cracking at the end. "Why?" He asked again, stepping back.
"I can't Dylan." I burst into tears; my tears blurring my vision, my hand immediately covered my mouth to contain the sobs.
"Whatever it is, I promise we will get through it," he pleaded desperately, blinking away the tears as he reached for me, stepping closer. "Together," he stuttered. "We can get through this."
I stepped back, almost falling from the weakness in my knees. "I-I can't give you want you want," I whimpered. "We can't get through this," I promised. "I c-can't—" I choked up, not able to finish the sentence. Not wanting to believe it.
"Please talk to me. Please Lia," he begged, eyes watering. He looked heartbroken and knowing that I was doing that to him made bile rise from my throat. I was hurting him, and if I didn't end this, he would only end up hurting in the long run.
I shook my head, tears falling off my cheek as I did. "Stay there please," I held my hand out as he took a small step forward. "I can't do this," I cried out, my body shaking, I needed to hold onto something before I fell over. "P-Please. Just—"
"Why?" He voiced again. He didn't bother to wipe the tears that were running down his cheeks, his gorgeous blue eyes intensely focused on me.
I teared my eyes away from his, instead focusing on the blurry pavement. "I—" I couldn't get the words out. "I can't h—" It physically hurt to say those words out loud, especially to him. "Please r-respect my decision. G-Goodbye," I whispered after a moment of silence, as those were the only words I could get out, immediately turning away, not able to bring myself to say anything else. I didn't miss the look of despair, hopelessness and sorrow that he wore as I did.
I might've have heard him calling my name as I fled, or it might have been a hallucination from the lack of nutrients from today. I was so anxious, I forgotten to eat or drink anything through out the day. I reached my door breathlessly, chest heaving rapidly, and with my head spinning. My breathing became heavier as the seconds passed, and before I even realized what was happening, I collapsed onto the ground just as the front door opened.
--
My vision returned in black spots, eventually being able to see my family surrounding me, all with frowns on their faces in the midst of an argument. "Obviously it was fucking Dingo! Who else would do this to her?"
"Enzo! Che cosa ti ho detto di imprecare?"
"I don't care," he scoffed. "I'm going to go beat up that little fucker," he muttered, cracking his knuckles.
"Enzo!" Mama called. "How about we ask Amelia what happened before we do anything drastic?" All eyes turned to me and I pushed myself farther back into the sofa, wanting the sofa to swallow me up.
Shane sat down on the sofa beside me. He didn't look too well. The side effects of his treatment. "What happened?"
I gulped, not wanting to say it, but answered his question nonetheless. "Dylan and I b-broke up," I said quietly, playing with my fingers in my lap.
"I'm sorry what?" That was Enzo's outburst. I raised my eyebrow and everyone else turned to him in confusion.
"How the fuck did a dumbass like him decide you weren't enough for him? Ain't no one breaking up with my sister. That ungrateful bastard," he swore.
"Enzo!" I flinched at the sound of my father's booming voice. He entered the living room in his uniform, the bright oranges contrasting against the neutral toned room. "How many times have your mother and I told you about your foul language?" He thwacked Enzo's head. "What's going on here?" His eyes found mine, looking for answers.
"Dylan and I, w-we broke up." I bit back the tears. Hearing myself say it made it so much worse.
"Quella piccola cagna. E pensare che in realtà mi piaceva." This time mama slapped papa. "Where is he?" He gritted out.
Enzo joined in, provoking papa and getting excited, ready to beat Dylan since the first time I mentioned his name. Mama tried to calm papa down. It wasn't working. Julian was muttering things to himself, something about jumping Dylan, while Shane grimaced at the noise, clutching his head.
"S-stop it." No one heard me. It came out as a whisper. I barley heard myself. I cleared my throat. "Stop it!" The noise halted. "I broke up with him," I announced, my voice cracking.
"What the fuck did he do to you? That's it," Enzo muttered, physically walking out the room. I sighed, looking at his twin. He gave me a slight nod and jogged after Enzo.
"Why?" This time it was my twin. "I thought everything was going well." It was.
"What did he do to you, mi amore?" Papa asked, containing is anger and sat down beside me. I flinched at the pet name. Dylan called me that.
"Nothing. Absolutely n-nothing," I strained out, pulling my knees up,
"Then what?" Papa asked me softly. "Because if he did do something, there are eggs in the fridge and no doubt his car is in his driveway," he joked, adding humor. However, I knew instead of eggs, he probably wanted to take a sledgehammer to the car instead.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them. "He wants kids!" I blurted out, somehow finding a relief in sharing it and getting it off my chest. I wasn't able to get these words out in front of Dylan.
"He w-would always remind me how much he loved me. He would m-mention our future and the things we would do and see together. He always brought up kids, and the many he wanted in his life. That's what he wants most, and I-I broke up with him because he wants kids," I sobbed, burying my head in my knees, my body shaking.
I never hated myself more than I did this moment.
I heard faint footsteps into the room and I didn't have to look to know it was the twins. A large hand rubbed my back softly while I heard mama gasp. "And I can't have kids," I blubbered, lifting my head. "I-I—" I couldn't make out the rest of the words.
"You don't know that," Shane demanded. "Don't, don't think like that," he replied, voice cracking.
"I-I need time a-alone," I managed to get out in shaky breaths, hyperventilating. I needed to calm myself down before I had a panic attack.
"Shane, take her to her room please."
I shook my head, my chest heaving in and out rapidly. "I w-want to stay here." I don't think I would be able to move without falling.
"Once you've calmed down, Shane will take you to your room, okay?" Mama replied softly, kneeling in front of me.
"What's with my room?" I asked in confusion. I cringed as I felt the dry tear stains on my cheeks.
"Amelia," she voiced softly, causing my eyes to meet her teary ones. "Don't push yourself away from him. You deserve to be happy, so happy; even if it's with him. Don't doubt yourself. He doesn't just want you for your ability to have kids, which isn't non-existent. The doctor's said there's a chance."
"A small chance," I interjected through a blurry vision. The day the doctor revealed this to me was one of the worst days of my entire life.
"You don't know that, tesero. Not for sure; you can't just diagnose yourself," she sighed. "Those tests were from a long time ago. We can go again, if that's what you want."
I didn't know if I wanted to go. I didn't want to be hopeful and come back with the same result, or even a worse one. I wouldn't be able to handle it.
"If he really loves you, which I know he does, he will want you for you and everything that comes along with it. Don't assume he wouldn't want to be with you, sweetie."
I pulled my hand from hers. "I-I'm just going to go upstairs," I sighed, wanting nothing more than to cry into my pillow. I rerouted to the kitchen and took a tub of ice cream out of the fridge. I grabbed a spoon and trudged up the stairs. I sniffled, wiping my nose of the back of my sleeve.
Gross. I know.
I shoved the door to my bedroom open, ready to jump into bed, but what I saw surprised me. On my bed laid dozens of flowers consisting of several different kinds. I now understood why both mama and Dylan wanted me to go to my room.
In the middle was a piece of paper. I recognized the piece of paper; it was from my sketchbook, well the sketchbook he gave me.
Dylan managed to convince me he was a great artist, so we decided to sketch portraits of each other. I flipped the page over, and there it was. A sketched portrait of me. I turned it back to Dylan's messy, but readable writing.
Lia,
You probably hate me. I hate me too for pushing you away. You keep pushing away, and I'll never stop pushing back, because I still love you, Lia. I won't stop showing you how much I love you, even if that means in showering you in flowers, ice cream or kisses every day.
I know it's tough at the moment, and I want to be here, to support you and to love you unconditionally. I want to help you with whatever you're going through; we can get through it together.
Meet me tomorrow at the first place I took you to tomorrow? I'll be waiting at 8:00. I hope to see the sunset with you.
With love, Dill Pickle
By this time, my ice cream was sadly abandoned on my dresser, my hands going through the flowers on my bed. There were several types, and I wasn't surprised. Dylan was always sentimental. He liked things with meaning behind them.
The sunflowers, my favourite. Amaryllis, his favourite which he mentioned that symbolized beauty. Orange lilies meaning passion, and other flowers, the only other one I recognized was daisies.
I felt my heartache. I slammed my eyes shut, letting the tears fall freely, staining my cheeks all over again. He planned this before I ripped out his heart and stomped on it several times over.
I gathered the flowers in my arms, but there were too many. Instead, I moved them to the side of my bed. I clutched the piece of paper, running my hand over his messy but readable writing, breaking into a sob.
Fuck, I loved him so much.
--
Well, the cat's out of the bag, I guess?
My exams finish Thursday, so expect another update soon!!
Don't forget to vote and comment on your favourite part of the chapter!!
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