Filthy Beautiful Lies(#1#2)

Sophie

I never thought I had to fear an infection. Cancer – the big, nasty C-word was my enemy – not some illness that crept in uninvited at the eleventh hour. It isn’t fair. And I don’t understand. She’d been doing so well.

I hate how empty and lifeless our shared bedroom feels. Yet I can’t help myself from laying on Becca’s bed since it’s the only place in the house I can still feel her.

I can hear Colton and my dad downstairs somewhere talking quietly. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He is my rock and my love for him has only quadrupled in the past two days.

My mom comes in when the sun begins its descent across the sky.

“Honey?” she taps on the open door and enters.

“Hi, Mom.”

She sits down on the bed beside me. “As soon as we got to the emergency room, Becca asked one of the nurses for paper and a pen.”

I wonder why she’s telling me this, until she pulls a square of paper from her pocket and hands it to me. “Even though we assured her she’d be fine once they got the antibiotics into her system, she seemed to know something we didn’t. She wrote this in a fury while they attached her to an IV drip and removed her port. Then she folded it up and told me to give it to you. I haven’t read it.”

I hold the paper in my hands. It’s still warm from my mom’s hand and I savor the image of a determined Becca in her one last rebellious act against the fucking sickness that took her.

“Can you leave me alone?” I ask my mother.

She nods and rises from the bed, giving me privacy for what is sure to be an emotional moment.

I unfold the paper and laugh at the drawing that jumps out at me from the bottom of the page. It’s a poorly drawn penis with large balls and squiggly lines of hair jutting out from them. I smile for the first time in two days. Tears dart to my eyes and my love for her grows, if that’s even possible. I haven’t read a damn word of her letter, and my mood has already lifted. She knew I’d need this. She knows me too well.

Sophie,This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

Thank you for taking me to Rome. Holy shit those Italian guys were hot. Thank you for being my best friend, thank you for every sacrifice you made for me, big and small. Thank you for always giving me your pink Starbursts.

I blink down at the words, recalling the countless packages of Starbursts I bought from hospital vending machines over the years. The pink were Becca’s favorite, and even though they were mine too, I always forfeited them to her. Every single time. Without question. Without hesitation.

I love you without end. Don’t you dare think for a second that that love is gone. Don’t you dare mourn for me. Miss me. Every day, just as I will miss you. Then get on with living. Do it for me. Because I can’t. I will be there in every starry night, in ever whisper of breeze against your skin when you jog, I’m in every package of Starbursts, smiling down at you when you eat the pink ones.

A single tear slips from my eye and I brush it away before continuing.

Whatever happens, please know that I am with you. ALWAYS. Go love that hot man of yours, you lucky girl, you. You two are going to make some damn fine babies one day. And that makes me so happy.

At the bottom is the penis drawing and her name along with a heart. That’s it. The whole letter. I read it twice more, then fold it neatly along the same creases and carry it across the room, tucking it into my purse for safe keeping.

My mom taps on the door and enters again. Her face is open and expectant. “Well? What did it say?”

I take my time, considering how to answer. “Everything.”

She nods. “Good.”

Crossing the room to sit beside me again, my mom reaches for my hand. “What are your plans after the funeral tomorrow?”

We’re having a luncheon at the house after the funeral, but I know that’s not what she means. I think we’re all wondering the same thing – how do we go on living in a world where my bright, lovely sister no longer exists?

“I figured I’d stick around here for as long as you needed me. Colton probably has to get back to work, but…”

She shakes her head, stopping me. “Your dad and I will be okay. We’ve known this is a possibility for a long time.”

Was I the only one so blind that I didn’t see what was going on, didn’t understand the risks? Becca continued wasting away while everyone fed me lines that the experimental treatment I’d miraculously funded did nothing. That word resonates far deeper than I’d like. Nothing. It’d all been for nothing. The auction, selling myself, meeting Colton…

No. As soon as I think that last part, I know it’s not true. I’d be lost without him right now.

My mom continues, “Dad and I have each other. You don’t need to stay here, Soph. You should go home with Colton. Becca was so happy you found him.”

I pull in a deep breath and nod.

***

When we leave Northern California it feels so wrong driving away and knowing that my sister is in that cemetery. Part of my heart has been buried in the cold, hard earth. She doesn’t belong there. But then I remember her letter. She isn’t there. She is in every ray of sunshine that shines too bright, in the whisper of the wind against my skin as we board the plane. I know for certain that she is still with me. I see her in my mirrored reflection of the plane’s window, in the stray thoughts that are too feisty to be entirely my own. I feel her presence in the squeeze of my heart and I feel whole again. Colton pulls me close and tells me he loves me, and I think maybe, just maybe I will have the strength to do this.