The May Irwin Kiss [Tayvis Fanfiction]

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

Five Days later
October 10th; 2026
Taylor Swift's Point of View
As I step into the hospice house, the weight of the past few weeks seems to press down on me with even greater force. My due date has come and gone, leaving me in a state of anxious limbo as I await the arrival of my second child. Viola arrived a few days early, but this baby seems content to remain nestled within me, defying all attempts to coax it out into the world.

The uncertainty gnaws at me, fueling a sense of restlessness that I can't shake. Travis and I are trying everything to jumpstart labor, from long walks to indulging in spicy foods, but nothing seems to work. Even sex has proven useless, leaving me feeling frustrated and defeated.

And then there's Cameron. The unexpected arrival of Travis's son has thrown our lives into disarray, leaving me grappling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I want to be happy for Travis, to embrace this new addition to our family with open arms. But every time I look at Cameron, I can't help but feel a pang of resentment. He is a constant reminder of Travis's past, a living testament to a part of his life that I will never fully understand.

As I make my way to Grace's room, the heaviness of the situation seems to settle around me like a suffocating shroud. And now, as she lays bedridden in the final stages of her illness, I can't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over me. I have done nothing to ease her suffering, nothing to repay the kindness she has shown me over the years.

When I enter her room, I instinctively move to hover near the doorway, desperate to avoid the uncomfortable silence that hangs in the air. But Grace's voice, weak and trembling though it is, draws me in like a siren's call.

"I want to talk to you," she says, her words piercing through the silence with unexpected clarity.

I freeze, my heart lurching in my chest as I meet her gaze. There is a haunted emptiness in her eyes, a stark reminder of the frailty of life and the inevitability of death.

Swallowing hard, I force myself to cross the room and take a seat beside her bed. "What is it?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Grace's lips twitch into a ghost of a smile, and for a moment, I can almost forget the pain and suffering etched into the lines of her face. "You're a great mom, Taylor," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Viola is...so lucky."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I blink them back furiously, unwilling to let my emotions betray me. Grace has always been a pillar of strength, and now, as she lies on her deathbed, I can't help but feel a profound sense of loss.

"Thank you," I murmur, my voice catching in my throat. "You've been doing a great job with Cameron." I notice a full tray of food across the room and the water next to her bed that is almost overflowing without condensation. "You should be eating and drinking."

But Grace shakes her head, her gaze drifting past me to the empty space beyond. "I'm not hungry," she says, her voice barely audible above the hum of the machines.

I bite my lip, struggling to find the right words to say. Grace's condition is worsening by the day, and I can't help but feel a sense of helplessness wash over me. All I can do is sit by her side and offer whatever small comfort I can, knowing that it will never be enough.

"Have you picked out a name yet?" she asks, her voice fragile yet filled with curiosity.

"Yep. We're naming her-" I start, but my words are cut short by Grace's interruption.

"Hey, I don't want special treatment. You said you wanted to keep it a surprise," she says, her tone gentle yet firm.

"Okay, if you want," I respond, trying to hide the uncertainty in my voice. Truthfully, I wasn't sure if she'd live to learn her name. Otherwise, I wouldn't have tried to tell her.