Chasing Abby(77)

Chris hangs his head for a moment and when he lifts it again, there are tears in his eyes. “I don’t want to be the one to break your heart. Please don’t make me do this.”
The heart-rate monitor starts beeping loudly as my pulse races. The nurse is at my side a second later, injecting something into my IV line. Within seconds, drowsiness overtakes me and I drift off with Caleb’s name on my lips.



THE FIFTH TIME I wake, my parents are there. My dad is standing like a soldier at my bedside, his hands behind his back, his chin dimpled with the effort of holding back his emotions. My mom stands right next to him, her gloved hand wrapped tightly around my fingers.
“Don’t lie to me,” I whisper through the tears.
“I won’t lie to you, sweetheart,” my dad says, his voice thick with emotion. “But I think Caleb would rather tell you everything himself.”
I open my mouth to curse him for lying to me by pretending that Caleb is alive, but before I can speak another word, he pulls a white envelope from behind his back. The sight of my name on the outside of the envelope in Caleb’s messy scrawl sends a bolt of pain through my chest.
“I wanted to wait to give you this later, but I don’t think Caleb would have wanted that.”
“Stop talking about him like… that.”
I want to tell my dad to stop talking about Caleb like he’s gone, but I can’t bring myself to say the words. I draw in a long breath as I take the envelope from my dad’s large hand.
“We haven’t read it. We just opened it to make it easier for you,” he assures me as he takes a step back.
“We’ll be right outside, honey.” My mom squeezes the words out through her tears.
I hold the envelope up in front of my face and stare at the letters A-B-B-Y and I imagine Caleb sitting at the table in the apartment he shared with Greg. I imagine his beautiful fingers curled around the pen as it slid across the paper. When did he write me this letter? What was he thinking?
I guess I’m about to find out.
I lay the envelope on my belly, then I struggle a bit to slip the folded piece of white paper out with just one hand. But a few seconds later, I have the paper out of the envelope and unfolded. I lay it facedown on my belly for a moment.
Caleb, wherever you are, please give me the strength to make it through this.
I sniff loudly and let out a long sigh. Then I lift the paper off my stomach and read.

Abby,

How do you thank someone for giving you a reason to live? I’ve thought about this a lot over the last few years since you came into my life. And for three years, I came up with nothing.Then my dad died and there you were again. My friend. My girl. My sunshine, bringing light to my darkest days. When the estate lawyer called me to his office to pick up the inheritance check in January after my eighteenth birthday, it got me thinking about what I wanted to leave behind after my death. Like my dad, I don’t have much to give, but I do have one thing I hope will still be useful when I go. Something you fixed up and made all shiny and new for me.My heart.Abby, the first time I spoke to you in the hospital, my heart danced. And I don’t think it ever stopped. You gave my heart quite a workout, sunshine. So I know that the moment they took my heart out of my chest and put it in yours, my heart danced its final dance as if nobody was watching. You can be anything you want to be now. Chase your dreams, Abby.

Always yours,Caleb

I throw the letter over the edge of the bed and try to breathe, but I’m in so much pain, breathing seems secondary. The nurse rushes in and injects something into my IV line again.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out except for a soft squeak.
“What did you say, sweetie?”