The Ending I Want

“When I was getting my stuff to take to Marie’s, I realized my lucky hoodie was dirty. My dad had gotten me it from Harvard. I’d had it for years, and good stuff always seemed to happen when I was wearing it. Once, when I was wearing it, Brian Packer asked me to winter formal. Then, I was wearing it when I made the softball team. Stupid, but I was young, and I thought good stuff would always happen when I was wearing it. Before I left to go to Marie’s, I asked my mom to wash it for me, so I could wear it on the flight. I was nervous to fly, and I figured nothing could happen if I wore my lucky hoodie.

“But I was wrong. It wasn’t lucky at all. My mom must have put it into the wash after I’d gone to Marie’s and forgotten to put it in the dryer straight after. She must have realized right before bed. The dryer was on…it was faulty…and it caught fire.

“Taylor…”

“They didn’t know the downstairs was on fire because they were all sleeping, and the fire alarm didn’t go off.

“A few weeks prior, the fire alarm had kept going off, and it was driving me nuts, so I complained to my dad. He took the batteries out. Said he’d buy another.

“He hadn’t gotten around to it…and the smoke got to them first. The fire marshal told me that they didn’t suffer…”

“Taylor,” I say her name again, moving toward her.

She lifts a hand, stopping me. “I should have died from the first tumor. This is my second chance to get it right.”

“That…no, that doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It does to me.” Her eyes lift to mine.

The grief and pain in them almost bring me to my knees.

“I need to see them again,” she says softly, agonized. “I need to tell them how sorry I am. I need them to forgive me.” Tears run from her eyes and down her cheeks.

I want to go to her, but I know she doesn’t want me near her.

So, I stand here, helpless.

“Taylor…your family…they wouldn’t want this. They wouldn’t want you to die.”

With her arm, she brushes the tears away. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” I say with certainty. “They loved you. They wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself. When you love someone, you only want the best for them. This isn’t the best.”

“Yes, it is. This is the best for me—paying my penance and being with them. That is what’s best for me.”

“Taylor…please. You need to listen to me. You can’t just give up on life like this.”

Her eyes come to mine. “I’m not giving up on life. I just want to be free of the pain of missing them…free of hating myself for what I did. I want my family back more than anything. And…I need their forgiveness.”

Tears are falling again, running down her beautiful face. And I don’t care if she wants me close or not. I have to be near her.

I sit on the edge of the bed beside her. “Taylor…what happened…it wasn’t your fault. It was a tragic accident. But it wasn’t your fault.”

She shuts her eyes and dries the tears from her face with her hands. Then, she opens her eyes back up and says, “No.” She shakes her head, determined. “It was my fault.”

“I don’t believe that. And I know your family wouldn’t think that either.”

“You didn’t know them, so you can’t make that call,” she snaps.

“No, I didn’t.” I keep my voice gentle. “But I do know you. I know the person they raised you to be—loving, warm, caring, and amazing. So fucking amazing that I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”

She closes her eyes again, but I keep talking, “And I might not have met your parents, but I do know those two people you talked about that day at the university, those two people who fell in love and fought to be together, because I saw them through your eyes, babe. I don’t believe for one second that they would want you to die. They gave you life. They raised you. Loved you. They sat by your side and fought with you through that first tumor when it threatened to take you away. They would want you to fight now.”

“That was before I killed them.” She opens her eyes but doesn’t look at me.

“It was an accident, babe. A tragic accident. Please…don’t do this. Fight to live. If not for yourself, then do it for me. I know you care about me—hold on to that, fight for that. Please. I’m begging you.”

My heart is beating hard against my chest, fear shaking my body, my mind praying that my words will finally reach her.

She looks at me with a flicker of warmth in her beautiful eyes, and I’m reminded of all the times I’ve stared into her eyes and seen that warmth and the hope and happiness that it made me feel.

And that tiny bit of hope I have left clings to that warmth in her eyes and silently begs her to live.

She exhales slowly. “You’re right. I do care about you, Liam…so much.” Her breath catches, and a tear slides down her cheek. She catches it and brushes it away.

“Taylor…”

She brings her eyes to me, and she doesn’t need to say anything. I know from the look in them that I’ve lost her.

She’s gone.

That tiny piece of hope I had left is crushed, right along with my heart, and I don’t stop the tears that fill my eyes. I let them be. And I let them fall.

She turns her face away from me and stares out the window. “I’m sorry, Liam. It’s too late. I want this. I want to die. I want to be with my family. It’s the ending I want.”