I sat up and grabbed my jeans and underwear then pulled them on quickly as I looked for my shirt. “Oh, no!” I spotted it on a rock in the middle of the creek, soaking wet. Brock laughed as he stood up and buckled his jeans.
“Take mine.” He bent down, grabbed his anarchy shirt, and held it out for me. I pulled it on quickly, loving that it smelled just like him. His fingers entwined with mine, and we made our way through the trees to my bike.
“I’m afraid I won’t see you again,” I told him. Tears clouded my vision, and Brock’s hand slid over the side of my neck as he pulled me into his arms.
Covered in a thin layer of sweat, I awoke to the smell of coffee. I pushed my hair from my face as I glanced to the table beside my bed. There was a coffee cup, filled to the brim, and toast with jelly. I grabbed my cell phone, but it had died overnight, and in my hurry to leave the apartment, I’d forgotten to grab my charger.
I threw back my covers and grabbed a piece of the toast, taking a bite as I went into my bathroom and turned on the shower. Between bites I stripped down before tossing the crust into the small brushed‐nickel trash can beside the sink.
I showered until the water ran cold, trying desperately to wash away the memories of my past. I dressed quickly and made my way downstairs, where Greg sat in his recliner, iPad in hand.
“Thanks for the breakfast.”
“Where you off to?” he asked, as my hand landed on the door handle.
“I have classes, remember?”
As I looked at him in the daylight, my heart sank at his deteriorating appearance. He wasn’t good at taking care of himself, and I wished he had found someone to marry so I didn’t have to worry so much.
‘”That wasn’t breakfast. I assumed you had a hangover. Let me cook you something.”
I chewed on my lip as I thought about being late for class. I had a few minutes to spare, and by the looks of my uncle, he didn’t have much time himself. Regret settled in the pit of my stomach for my not having spent more time with him. He worried about me constantly, and the pain of my past had me avoiding him.
“How about I make breakfast for you? You were kind enough to let me stay with you.”
“We’re family, Lie. You’re always welcome here.” He grunted as he pushed himself up from his seat then shuffled toward the kitchen. My mother and Greg were night and day for siblings. Time hadn’t been kind to him, and I suspected most of that was due to his health problems. I followed him to the kitchen and gestured for him to sit at the large glass table.
“When’s the last time you saw a doctor?” I asked, as I pulled open the fridge and searched for food.
“Those quacks don’t know anything.” He laughed but soon had to clear his throat, fighting off a cough. “It’s just a cold.”
I stood with a bowl of sliced fruit and looked over at him. “A cold? You’ve been sick for a year, and you look like death.”
“Gee, thanks, Lie.”
“You know what I mean.” I placed the fruit on the counter and turned back to the fridge to grab some yogurt. “If I’d knew you were this sick, I would have come to stay with you sooner.”
“No one knew. I don’t need any of those assholes in my business.”
I shook my head as I kicked the fridge closed with my foot. “I can’t blame you there.” I grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and mixed the fruit into the vanilla yogurt.
“You should have heard the way they reacted when I said you’d come to stay with me.” He nodded as I slid a bowl in front of him and slipped a spoon into it. “They acted like I was crazy for having you stay with me. They said you were dead to them.” He shook his head, and a painful expression marred his face.
“It’s fine.” I waved away his worry. “What they think doesn’t bother me anymore. I have everyone I need here.” I gave him a weak smile and took a seat across from him, ignoring the thoughts of Brock that forced their way into my brain. “Good job at changing the subject.” I bumped my shoulder against Greg’s, and he rumbled with a low laugh as he took a bite of his food. “So…the doctors?”
“Lie,” he groaned, and shook his head. His eyes began to water as he dipped his head. “There’s nothing they can do. It’s part of life. Some are shorter than others.”
Suddenly all my problems paled in comparison to his revelation. “I can’t lose you too. You’re all I have left.” My hand shook, causing the spoon to rattle off a rhythm against the bowl, close to that of my racing heart.
He smiled weakly as his hand wrapped around my fingers to still them. “You have friends, and even if I do leave this damn place, you’ll still have me.” He used his other hand to point to my chest. “I’m in there.”