"Shame on me for changing. Shame on you for staying the same." Spotless mind by Jhene Aiko.
                         ⚠️TW-Death of a parent.

I was cold.

Freezing-cold.

Below-zero-degrees-Fahrenheit-cold.

A-minute-away-from-death-by-hypothermia-cold.

My body was instantly covered in chills at the mention of that name. The hairs on my skin stood erect and the muscles under them trembled in violent shivers. My heart continued plunging, but instead of the good old blood, it was pumping ice. Slush was circulating inside my body, freezing me to death, but somehow also keeping me alive.

Wrapping my hands around my middle, I parted my lips to speak. But my mouth stayed agape, releasing small gasps, stealing my breath away. I stayed wordless as I waited for his words to deliver the blow. To punch me in the gut and end me once and for all. I braced myself for the impact and waited for the same man who had built me up with his words to shatter me.

Noah's feet remained glued to the sheet vinyl floor beneath them and his eyes waited unguarded, ready to pop out of his head. He stayed unmoving, unblinking. After a minute-long futile stare-out, Noah's face fell as he let out a long breath. Running his fingers through his hair, a little too aggressively, "Mer" he whispered... to himself.

He looked distraught. Like he had been dragged through hell and back. That phone call couldn't have lasted over two minutes. What could've had him so worked up that quickly? What could've had him looking at me like I was going to break any second?

"Say something." He pleaded as he looked at me—at my parted mouth—expectantly. He was waiting for my non-existent words to come out and accuse him.

I stayed still, letting the silence stretch between us. Noah took a seat on the nearest bench. Head down, elbows on his knees, fingers clasped, and eyes trained on his feet.

A beat passed, and another.

The words floated in my brain before they slowly descended to my throat. I swallowed once, twice, three times. "That wasn't work, was it?" I asked in the smallest, saddest of whispers.

Noah's brown eyes found mine as his face contorted in pain. "No." He made a show to get up. But then sat back again.

The small sip of coffee I had drunk minutes ago made its way back to my mouth, leaving an acerbic taste on my tongue. "She wants you back, doesn't she?" my voice went up an octave.

Don't answer that, I pleaded silently. I wasn't ready to hear the answer. What if it was a yes? What if she wanted him back? What was I going to do? I couldn't compete with her, could I? My stomach rolled in fear. I loved that man too much. I didn't know what I'd do if I lost him. My heart wouldn't make it out alive—I wouldn't make it out alive.

Noah got up from the bench and walked toward me, stopping just an inch shy from my face. "No." His redolent breath fanned my skin.

"What's going on, Noah?" I looked up at him, vulnerability coating my words thick. "And please don't lie to me." My eyes felt heavy with my imminent tears stuck in a traffic jam.

Noah let out an uneasy breath and grabbed my inked hand cautiously. Both of our heads were hung down, our eyes following his thumb as it traced the upward and downward curves of my minuscule tattoo. The tattoo I had gotten to signify our love. "Ava's mom is dying." He whispered. His grip on my hand tightened as he continued. "She has stage four pancreatic cancer. She wants me to go say goodbye."

"Oh," my pharynx was narrowing in on me, crushing my voice box. "That's... that's unfortunate." I cleared my throat. It was, for the lack of a better word, unfortunate. Stage four of any type of cancer was alarming on its own, but pancreatic cancer? That was straight-up bad news. The worst news anyone could ever get.

"Mm." He hummed. "Very unfortunate. Carmen is a kind woman who deserves the world and everything good in it."

"I'm sure she is." I closed my eyes and nodded. Carmen. His ex's mother was Carmen to him. Not Mrs. González, Carmen. Just like his girlfriend's mom, my mom, was Nia and not Mrs. Van de Kamp to him.

"I'm sorry to hear that." I offered my sympathy. It took so much of my self-restraint to hold myself back from yelling and screaming. "But why the lie, Noah? Why the secrecy? I thought-" A ball of anger got lodged in my throat, clipping my sentence short. I took a step back, letting go of his hand in the process. He fisted them and let them dangle on his side.

The bitter cold air that prickled my skin was suddenly replaced with a wave of heat. My skin blistered, my blood boiled, and my vision blurred. I was burning from the inside out. The pores in my skin were serving as tiny chimneys, letting the smoke out. "I thought we didn't keep secrets, Noah. I thought we didn't lie to one another. What happened?"

Noah's loud sigh was powerful enough to flutter my eyelids. Just as he moved his lips to speak, my mom's voice came from behind, stealing his moment.

"There you are." She flung her hand in the air. "The doctor's here to discuss your dad's MRI results." She looked a bit agitated as she walked back to my dad's room without giving us another glance.

I took two more steps away from Noah before breaking eye contact and turning my back on him. Following my movements with his eyes, he sealed his mouth shut and exhaled through his nose. "I'll explain later." He murmured as he took my hand in his and walked me to my dad's room, where I was needed most.

The room was crowded... with people and equipment. Aside from my sleeping dad and the machines that were connected to him, my mom, Topher, a nurse, a doctor, Noah, and I, were all crammed up in the tiny room, making it seem even tinier.

Noticing the sizeable crowd, Noah told me he'd wait for me outside and walked out of the room, taking Topher with him. The nurse followed, leaving just my mom and me with my dad and Dr. Johnathan.

My mom and I took a seat while the doctor stood by my dad's bedside and gave us a quick post-surgery update. Overall, my dad was showing good signs of improvement and was expected to regain his consciousness, fully, soon. With physical and occupational therapy sessions scheduled for at least six days a week, he had a long but promising road of recovery ahead. Despite suffering from a massive stroke, my dad's age and otherwise healthy lifestyle were said to give him the advantage of recuperating relatively faster. After explaining my dad's MRI results and telling us he had a good prognosis, Dr. Jonathan wished us well and left my dad's room.

"I'm going to go have lunch with Noah. Are you staying here or will you go home?" I asked my mom, gathering my stuff from the chair I was sitting on.

"We're leaving." She replied, pulling my dad's blanket up to his chest and running her fingers through his hair.

"Okay." I nodded. "I guess I'll see you at home."

My mom tugged on my dad's hospital gown, eyeing me carefully. "Is he your boyfriend?" She tipped her head to the door.

"He is." I said, pursing my lips together, keeping my gaze on my feet.

Placing my dad's hand above the blanket, she let out a condescending chuckle and ambled to her chair, picking up her bag. "I like him. He's a well-mannered, good-looking boy. He takes good care of you; he takes good care of us." Walking toward the door, where I was standing, my mom continued. "He loves you and you love him."

I bobbed my head up and down, letting her know I agreed with everything she was saying. But I knew my Nia Van de Kamp well enough to know that she wasn't done. I could smell the but and the disapproving gaze coming from a mile away.

Stopping her stride right in front of me, she placed her hand on my hair and brushed my edges backward. Her accusatory eyes spoke before her mouth. They looked me up and down, serving me a bill of indictment. "But I hope he's worth all the things you've lost." She craned her neck to my sleeping dad and moved her head left to right, tsking me.

I could hear the blame in her voice. I could see the resentment in her eyes. I could feel the same old unanswered questions approaching. I wasn't fit for confrontation; I still had no answers for her. Not when my dad's future was uncertain. Not when Noah and I's conversation was unfinished. I had too much going on in my life.

Taking a step back from her, I patted the door, searching for the knob. Wordlessly, I pulled the door open and stepped out of the room. I needed fresh air. Noah and Topher were slouched on the bench, with their noses buried in their phones. Giving Topher a lingering kiss on his head, I told him I'd see him later and grabbed Noah's hand, needing him to take me away.

Right when we made it to his parked car, before I could open the passenger door, Noah turned me to face him and tipped my chin up. "What is it?" he asked. "Why are you upset?"

My chin quivered, but I held it together. "Take me away. Not to your apartment, just... away."

His eyes roamed my face, searching for something, before he nodded and opened the car door for me. After he made sure my seatbelt was fastened, he started his car, and we left the hospital parking lot.

Noah ended up taking me to the park behind our old middle school. As we pulled over, a bright wave of nostalgia overcame the dark air of melancholy I had brought with me from the hospital. Noah got out of the car and opened my door for me. I took his hand and we strode to the park.

I inhaled my first full breath of the day.

The yellowest sun, surrounded by the whitest clouds, was standing loud and proud in the middle of the bluest sky. Flowers of all hues were scattered all around the greenest land, reminding me of my monochromatic existence. I was standing where I didn't belong. I should've felt like an imposter prying on the land of make-believe.

But I didn't.

Because when I followed the trail of the hand that sheltered my hand, it led me to the whiskey eyes of the man I loved. Those warm brown eyes lit up at my dull existence despite being surrounded by every shade of color in the world. We were standing amid beauty, but his eyes were trained on little old me.

"How come, even when I'm the least beautiful in the room, you make me feel like the most beautiful one?" I whispered loud enough for my boyfriend, who was leading me to the bench, to hear.

Chuckling, Noah sat on the bench and pulled me onto his lap, with my back to his chest. "Because you are the beautifulest of them all." He murmured, with his chin on my shoulder and his arms around my waist.

Remembering our conversation from a few months ago, when he altered the same word, I leaned my head back and laughed. "That's my newest favorite word."

Noah gave me a knowing smile. "You're my favorite word."

I was basking in love. In so much love for him—from him. But I was also basking in fear. Envy. Uncertainty. Fear of losing him—to that girl. Envy for the year they had dated—the memories they had made. Uncertainty of my future with him—or the lack thereof.

Swallowing hard, I turned my head to the side and looked into his eyes. "Don't go."

Noah's eyes stayed stuck on my lips. "Mer," he whispered.

"Please." I begged. "I heard you tell her you'd go. Don't go. Stay here with me." Noah pulled me closer to him and held me tighter. "You will say goodbye to Carmen on FaceTime. You'll send her flowers and cards. Just... please don't go."

I knew I was being unkind. I knew I sounded insecure and insincere. I knew he'd be disappointed in me for asking so much of him. But a feeling I couldn't explain was gnawing at me. Something inside of me—my gut—was telling me to save our relationship. To fight for him. To stop him. To keep him. Red lights were flashing in my eyes.

When he stayed silent, I took a calming breath and continued. "I'm not gonna lie, Noah. I'm so angry at you. I feel like you betrayed my trust when you lied to me. I felt like shit when I heard you whisper with her, like you guys were in on a secret. You said the call was from work. It wasn't work. You lied."

The next words that came out of my mouth, I had no control over. All I knew was that at a time when my entire world was getting ready to collapse on top of me, I needed him. I needed him at all costs. "But I'm ready to forgive you and move on... if you just stay here."

Love is forbearing, even without an apology.

Noah sighed his troubled sigh. His eyebrows came together, giving birth to twin vertical lines between them. "Baby, I wasn't keeping a secret from you. I-"

"I don't care, just don't go."

Love is desperate, a forlorn sentiment.

He sighed again. He sighed an I'm-tired-of-you-May sigh. The type of sigh my mom sighed earlier. That made me feel miserable.

"I want to explain." Noah picked me up from his lap and eased me onto the bench. Sneaking one of his legs to the other side, he straddled the chair and faced me. "I love you. I would never lie to you. Especially to intentionally hurt you. I was honest with you when I told you I was done with Ava months ago when we were just talking. I was honest with you when I openly told you I loved her and she..." he threaded his fingers through his hair, "messed me up. I was honest with you when I told you that my love for her ended. I was honest when I said I moved on. I blocked her. I cut contact with her friends and family and moved on with my life. I've been honest with you, always, Mer."

"Until today." I murmured, picking a flower from its stalk.

Darting his hands to my waist and pulling me forward, he continued. "I had blocked her number ages ago. But Ava, she's fucking persistent. She tried to reach me using different digits so, I stopped answering unsaved numbers. But then the night your dad got sick, after I dropped your brother off at the neighbor's place, I got a call from an unsaved number. I thought it was your mom calling to check if Topher was home safe. I thought maybe you had given her my number. So, I picked up."

"It wasn't my mom. Was it?" I plucked one petal off the flower and let it fall to the ground.

"It wasn't your mom." He shook his head. "It was Ava's mom. She spoke to me in a weak voice. A voice I couldn't even recognize. She told me she had cancer and that her last wish was to clear up her daughter's karma by righting all of Ava's wrongs. And so, she apologized on her daughter's behalf. She's a traditional woman. She values these things. So, I told her I forgave her. And she was relieved. But then she asked me another thing. One I couldn't turn down even if I wanted to. She asked me to go see her. To say goodbye to her."

Taking a petal between his fingers, Noah ripped one out and threw it away, joining me in my game.

"Carmen is a good woman. Ava isn't half the woman Carmen is. She is kind and loving and generous. She raised Ava alone, working as a janitor for ten hours a day and seven days a week. She feeds the homeless. She loves animals. She goes to church." He had a reminiscent smile on his face that faded away as quickly as it showed up.

"Today, when I got a call from that same number, I thought she had died. When I picked up and heard Ava's voice, for the first time in almost a year, I thought she was going to tell me that her mom had died before I made it. And fuck, it killed me. I wanted to honor her wish. I was relieved to hear that she was still fighting."

"What did she say to you?" I asked, twirling the flower between my fingers.

"Ava?"

Grimacing at the mention of her name, I nodded. I had never in my life abhorred a person and a name that much. My hatred toward her was grand enough to bring a shiver through my body.

Love does envy. It resents the life your lover lived before you and everyone in it.

"She just told me that the doctors had ended her mom's treatment and she was sent home to die peacefully. She said Carmen had little time left and that I should go as soon as possible if I wanted to say goodbye. She treated me like her son when I was dating her daughter. She sent me a Christmas card after Ava and I broke up. She's a noble woman, whom I care for dearly. I want to say goodbye to her. I want to help send her home in peace. I want to hold her hand and thank her for everything. I want to do the right thing. For my conscience, at least."

He framed my face in his hands. "But May, right now, there is no one I love more than you. I would do anything you ask of me, even if it's wrong. I would go above and beyond for you, because you're it for me. So, think twice before you ask me for stuff like that. Think twice before you ask me to not go. Because I would do it. For you. But I won't be able to live with myself after that."

"Wh... were you going to tell me? Had I not caught you today?"

"Of course, Mer. I just didn't want to dump this on you when you were already dealing with so much shit."

"You really want to go." I deflated.

"I do. I really want to be able to say goodbye. But I won't go before your dad gets better. I won't go before I make sure you're well taken care of. I won't go when you need me the most. I found you when I needed you the most. I'm not leaving when you need me the most."

"I love you, Noah. Thank you for loving me and choosing me."

"Always." He kissed my tattoo. "I love you."

The thing was, he really wanted to go. The other thing was, I really didn't want him to go. Our conversation, while it melted my heart and filled me up with love, didn't bring a solution to our differing needs. He didn't say he wouldn't go. He said he wouldn't go while my dad was still in the hospital... but it was good enough for me. I pushed it back to be dealt with later. I'll cross the bridge when I get there.

Love is weak. It gets persuaded easily.

Noah and I had been in the park for hours. After our conversation, which had rendered me speechless, we ate the food we had grabbed on our way to the park as we talked, smiled, and laughed. All forgotten. Because love is...

We lay on the ground, gazing at the sky, watching it turn shades. The fluffy clouds were closing in on the yellow sun, tinting the blue-sky gray. Smelling the incoming rain from miles back, birds were frantically flying away, taking shelter under the bushes. A soft murmur of thunder could be heard from a distance, making it seem like the sky was growling.

A lone raindrop fell and landed on Noah's forehead. We giggled and waited for more. Drop after drop, the patchy drizzle started its descent on us. Noah and I scrambled, got up, gathered our stuff before it got wet, and ran to his car. Just as he made a move to open his door, I grabbed his hand and told him to wait. I fished his phone and wallet from his pocket and placed them on the center console, along with mine. Tugging on his hand, I ran to the rain, with him trailing behind me.

"What are we doing?" Noah yelled through the pitter-patter.

What are we doing? Good question, what were we doing?

Coming to a stop, I turned to face him. "Being young. The past few days have aged me mentally and emotionally. I have been..." Noah framed my face and wiped away the droplets of rain from my cheeks. "I've been sad and scared. I want to feel the rain on my skin, live my life with arms wide open and all." I smiled up at him and shrugged.

The rain seemed to intensify, droplets multiplying by the second. We stood in the middle of the park soaking in rain. Taking one of his hands on mine, I took a step back and twirled myself around.

Noah stood staring at me, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Now would be a great time to ask me to dance with you." I rolled my eyes.

He swallowed hard, his throat dipping low. "Your hair," he trailed off.

"It's just hair." I assured.

Taking off his flannel shirt, "only if you wear this." he said as he draped it over my shoulders. I just stood there and let him dress me.

Noah started humming a random tune. I started chanting random words. His melody wasn't harmonious. My words didn't rhyme. But it was such a Noah and May thing, it all made sense to us.

At first, our dance was uncoordinated—chaotic. We were jumping up and down, shaking our bodies, doing the shimmy, and just being silly. But then he pulled me to his chest and cradled my head with his hand. He stopped humming, and I stopped singing. Our heartbeats and the sound of the rain against the ground took over as music for us. We got lost in our world as we swayed slowly.

We were nose to nose, breathing each other in. Eye to eye, conversing silently. Our teeth were clattering, and we were shivering. "Race you to your car." I whispered before running away from him and getting into his car.

Leaning my head back on the headrest, I pulled my knee to my chest and turned my face to Noah. He pushed his seat back and turned his face to me. He blinked, I blinked. He swallowed, I swallowed. He leaned in, I leaned closer. He ran his tongue over his lips, I ran my tongue over mine. Resting his hand on the back of my neck, he pulled me forward. I went. His plump lips touched mine and my body went limp.

"I missed this." He said, gliding his nose all over my face, "I missed the way you smell."

"What do I smell like?" I asked, as I went on my knees and hopped around the center console to straddle his lap.

One of his hands sat on my back, as the other played with my hair and traced my ear lobes. "Like happiness and spring."

An unflattering giggle snuck out of my mouth. "So, nothing and pollen?"

"Peaceful and delectable."

The rain poured. Noah and I kissed. Fervently, greedily, desperately.

He eased me to the back seat and peeled my wet clothes away. His mouth showed me just how delectable he thought I was. My body showed him just how nonviolent it was as a hurricane ensued inside. My nails carved his leather seat. His teeth marked my gold skin.

The car windows fogged up.

"Don't go." I was curled up in his lap with my head on his chest, counting his heartbeat. I said it.

"I won't go."

"Promise?" I stole kisses on his neck.

"I promise." He stole kisses on my lips.

Our day ended like that. After the rain went away, he drove me home and gave me a lingering goodnight kiss. His promise brought me peace of mind. With that girl buried at the back of my head, I turned a blind eye on my mom's cold shoulder and went to sleep over at Topher's room. My little brother needed his big sister.

***

Over the next few days, things took a turn for the better. My dad regained his consciousness fully and started his recovery little by little. Because the stroke had left him unable to speak, eat, and move, my dad needed speech therapy, physical therapy, and occupational therapy, along with many medications he needed to take up to four times a day to be nursed back to health. His warm smile was crooked nonetheless warm, his eyes were tired but greener, and his pale skin beamed with color. My dad was feeling better, getting healthier, and I couldn't contain my gratitude and excitement.

Two of my big brothers, Eric and Liam, came and visited my dad at the hospital. My grandparents flew from the Netherlands to be with their son. My aunts and uncles sent us cards. Family, friends, and neighbors helped us in any way they could. My dad's colleagues called and checked in on us multiple times a day. We had a lot on our plates. My mom and I barely interacted. As the crowd got bigger, the wedge between us got thicker—we got busier. And so, I was spared from the guilt trip.

Noah went back to his work and stopped coming by to the hospital. As my family gathered, we felt like it would be awkward for him to just stick around without proper introduction. We wanted to meet each other's parents soon and as soon as my dad was in the clear, we agreed that I'd introduce him to my family and he would introduce me to his.

Until then, we channeled our inner juvenile and snuck around. Since I spent my days at the hospital and he spent his at work, the only time we could see each other was at night. When dusk fell, he would text me and I would sneak him up to my room and we'd spend the night snuggling... and more.

Life was beautiful. I was content. Everything was falling into place. Everything was—almost—perfect again.

Wednesday, September 4th, 2013

7:20 PM

My dad was set to be discharged from the hospital in less than an hour. The doctors said he could continue his treatment and therapy from the comfort of his home. All of his tests had come back good, and he was showing promising signs of improvement. We were elated, to say the least.

It was a busy day, as I had been busy planning for my dad's homecoming. My mom had ordered some equipment to help accommodate my dad, and I had spent the day rearranging them in our house and making sure it was ready for my dad's arrival.

Leaving my grandma back home to look after Topher, my grandpa, my mom, and I went to the hospital to pick my dad up. I was just talking to the nurse, asking her when the discharge papers would be ready, when I got a text from Noah saying he was waiting for me downstairs in the parking lot. I hadn't talked to him the entire day, so, when I saw his text, I all but ran there, leaving my phone behind.

Leaning on his car door, my boyfriend waited for me with his hands tucked in his pockets and a beautiful smile tugging on his lips.

"Hey you." I went up to my toes and kissed him.

"Hey baby." Smooch. "How's your pops?"

"Much better. He's getting ready to leave. They're signing the discharge papers."

"Awesome." His breath wafted down my face.

I scrunched up my nose and squinted my eyes at him. "Someone's been drinking." I poked his chest playfully.

He laughed and opened the car door for me. "I can't go anywhere. I have to drive my dad home." I said as I hopped into his car.

"I know." Sitting on the driver's seat, Noah cupped my neck and kissed me. "I just wanted to kiss you."

His mouth tasted like alcohol. I pulled back and looked at him. "Were you drinking?" I asked again.

"Just a little, not more than a few sips." He brushed it off.

Noah didn't drink often. And on the rare occasions he drank, he never drank in moderation. He was a no-drink guy or a drink-till-drunk-as-a-skunk guy. No in-between. (Cue that one week he was having problems with Zach.) So, I was mildly concerned.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, cautiously.

He nodded a not-so-convincing nod. I let it go, hoping that he'd talk to me when he felt ready.

"I can't wait for you to meet my family tomorrow." Changing the subject, I smiled from ear to ear. We were throwing a homecoming party for my dad and everybody was invited. I wanted Noah to meet my family officially then.

Noah's face fell, his eyes suddenly finding the roof of his car interesting.

My stomach did an impressive cartwheel. "What is it?" I asked, putting my hand under his chin and forcing him to look at me.

Something inside me, call it instinct or intuition, told me to turn around. I did. I craned my neck to the side, forcing my eyes to inspect the back seat of his car.

A suitcase filled my vision. Trepidation crammed my throat.

"You're leaving?"

And that was when I knew. Right there in the middle of the quiet hospital parking lot, right then with my heart on my sleeve, I knew. I knew that those plump lips that had kissed me breathless, rendered me speechless time and time again, would part to undo me.

Oh Noah, please spare me. Spare me for the sake of love.

He nodded. "Carmen's health is deteriorating. She doesn't have much time." He scratched his hair. "If I want to catch her alive, I'll have to leave now. I have to make the drive there because I can't fly. My doctor is on maternity leave and the new one is an asshole who thinks I want to abuse sleeping pills. He refused to write me the prescription. Anyway, to make it to her in time, I'll have to start going now."

My brows furrowed and my jaw muscles clenched. "You said you weren't going."

"Mer-"

"You promised."

"Well, I have to go."

Love breaks promises. It lies... to your face.

"You don't have to go." My voice had an edge to it.

He sighed a sigh. A sigh I knew so well. One that said, you can't change my mind. I got scared. I got desperate. "Please stay here with me." I softened my voice. "You said you wouldn't leave while I needed you... well, I need you!" I tapped my chest with my hand, emphasizing that it was me who needed him... not her.

"You don't need me, Mer."

My tears started rolling, I swatted them away. I was so tired of crying. I loathed crying.  "My dad's in the hospital, too. Why can't you stay for my dad?"

Noah gave me a disbelieving look and shook his head. "Your dad's being discharged. Carmen's dying." He intoned it like I was an idiot that needed to hear every single syllable slowed down.

"But you said you wouldn't go. You can't just change your mind." My voice cracked as I sniffled.

"Carmen is a good woman-"

"Oh, for crying out loud, enough with that." I spoke over him, covering my ears with my hands. "What about Nia?" My voice escalated and my eyes threw daggers at him. "Nia is a good woman, too. She loves you, too. She works hard, TOO."

"May, stop." He ran his hands over his face. Anger poured through him. "You're being so fucking selfish." He pointed his finger between us, "And this isn't us. Our love isn't selfish, remember?"

"Stop saying that, Noah!" I yelled, my temper spiking out of control. "My love is selfish. I love you too much. I love you selfishly. I want you all to myself. I can't share you! Not with a girl that has your past, not with her family that has your heart."

"You're not sharing me, Mer!" He yelled back, bringing his hand to my face and shaking me. Heat radiated from his skin; fury thrummed through his veins. "I love you so fucking much. I'm wholly yours. I just... I just want to do the right thing."

The argument wasn't going anywhere. I was defeated and deflated. "Do the wrong thing for me." I said in a small voice, clasping his hands that held my face. "Choose me, Noah."

"Mer." He let go of my face. Pain. His face was painted in agony.

Love is pain.

I exhaled and spoke with finality in my words. "I love you, Noah. I don't just say that—I show you. I put you first every day. I chose you time and time again. I need you to do the same for me. You've put your work before me and I understood. You've put your future first, and I understood. You've put your family first, and I understood. I am tired of understanding, Noah. I need you to choose me this time. I need you to show me you love me, not just say it."

There was a long stretch of silence between us.

"You're being stubborn." Noah shook his head. "This is not the May I know and love. You're being so fucking selfish."

Anger, rage, and fury controlled me. I yanked the car door open, excused myself out, slamming it in my wake. How dare he call me selfish for loving him? How dare he call me stubborn for wanting him? How dare he say I wasn't the May he knew and loved? How dare he?

I was walking. Brisking. Running away from him.

Noah caught up with me and grabbed my hand, halting me in my stride. I turned to him, breathless with anger, thick tears of ire running down my cheeks.

He stared at me; I matched his stare. He glared at me; I glowered ten times back.

"We're done, Noah." I tugged on his hand, urging him to let me go. "If you leave, we're done. You won't have a girlfriend to come back to. I am tired of paying all these sacrifices for you, for us, for our love when you don't reciprocate. Right now, you're not making me feel loved. You're making me feel like everyone and everything else comes before me. I love myself enough to know what I don't deserve. I don't deserve to feel like this. So, if you leave, make sure you take a good look at my teary face and my pleading eyes. And keep this image in your memory because it'll be the last time you will ever see me."

Everything that happened next played in slow motion.

Noah shook his head. His mouth let out a resigned sigh. His hand let go of my hand. His face inched close to me. His lips brushed my forehead. He gave me a lingering hug. He whispered in my ear. "I love you. I'll come back for you." He turned his back to me. He walked away from me. He got into his car. He backed out. He drove away. He left me.

I sat on the yellow and black rubber curb and wiped my tears away.

Love lies. Love lies bleeding. Love leaves you for dead as you lie bleeding.

A few minutes passed, my adrenalin waned, and my regret spiked up. Another few minutes went by; my regret intensified and prickled my skin. It took another few minutes for clarity to kick in. I knew Noah was a good man of good conscience right from the beginning. That was what made me fall in love with him. He lived life with calculation. He was a moral and ethical person. He knew right from wrong. He was right. I was wrong.

I was wrong. So wrong. Wrong for asking him not to go. Wrong for making him promise. Wrong for yelling at him. Wrong for telling him he didn't make me feel loved. Wrong for giving him an ultimatum. I was desperately wrong. Wong, wrong, wrong!

I wanted to take back what I said. I had to call him and apologize. I had to call him and wish him a safe trip. I wanted to tell him I'd be waiting for him. I'd still be his girlfriend.

I wasn't sure how many minutes had passed while I sat on the curb, but I knew he couldn't have gone far. Getting up from my seat, I ran upstairs to my dad's room to get my phone and call Noah. He was right; I was being insensitive and selfish and bratty. He was right; I wasn't being May. The elevator door opened, and I walked down the hall to my dad's room.

Light travels faster than sound. Maybe that was why I saw it unfold before I heard it. In front of my dad's room, I spotted my grandpa with his hands on his head. As I walked closer, I saw a nurse walk into my dad's room. Then another one followed, walking a bit faster. Then another one followed, jogging.

I just wanted to grab my phone and apologize to my boyfriend. I just wanted to pick my dad up and take him home. I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was.

I walked closer and closer and stood next to my shaking grandpa. My dad's room was wide open and crowded. Why was it always crowded? Surrounded by so many machines, so many people, I could barely see my dad. I went up on my tiptoes and adjusted my neck to get a better view. Everything was in disarray.

A nurse snatched my dad's pillow from under his head. Another nurse pushed the cart that held the defibrillator to his bed. Another nurse ripped his gown off.

That was when the sound kicked in. That was when I heard it all. The alarm blared, CODE BLUE, CODE BLUE as the doctor placed paddles onto my dad's bare chest. He yelled CLEAR as he shocked my dad to life.

CLEAR... SHOCK!

CLEAR... SHOCK!

CLEAR... SHOCK!

And then it ended as quickly as it began.

BEEP...

A continuous, never-ending linear beep filled the room, indicating my dad's heart had stopped—flat-lined.

The nurses ushered my mom out to the hallway. Her gut-wrenching scream overpowered the beeping sound of the monitor. My grandpa took off his hat and bent his head down. I slid down the wall and hugged my knees. The doctor walked toward us. He took off his scrub cap and cleared his throat.

"We've done everything we could."

A loud roar filled my ear, rupturing my eardrums.

Shouting. Screaming. Howling...

Love is cruel.

That night—September 4th—In just a matter of hours, my life fell apart.

My first-first love, my dad, crossed the life line without me. My second-first love, my boyfriend, crossed the state line without me. The two men who had promised me the world left me alone in it. The loves of my life, whom I had trusted with my heart, left it bleeding. The only men I loved and needed most left me shivering.

I was cold.

Freezing-cold.

Below-zero-degrees-Fahrenheit-cold.

A-minute-away-from-death-by-hypothermia-cold.

...

a/n- Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! ✨Emotional damage✨

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