Meredith's sister

47

Mia's POV

The house felt quieter than usual. The ticking of the clock on the wall was louder than I remembered. The silence between Teddy and me had settled into a heavy stillness that neither of us knew how to break. I could feel the weight of her gaze on me whenever she looked my way, like she was waiting for me to say something—anything—that would promise her that I was still here, still fighting. But I wasn't fighting anymore. I was too tired.

I had spent so much of my life trying to be strong for everyone else. For Allison. For Teddy. For my sisters. I had carried so much, had pushed through so much, that I thought I could carry it all forever. But the reality of it all was that strength had limits, and I had reached mine.

I had stopped looking for answers, stopped hoping for miracles. I had come to terms with the fact that no matter what we did, no matter how much love and care I was given, the cancer had already won. It was in every fiber of my being, slowly consuming me until I felt like I was fading into the background of my own life.

The pain had become a constant companion, dull but present, like a dark cloud following me wherever I went. My body no longer felt like mine. My muscles ached, my bones felt brittle, and the nausea never let up. I had become a ghost in my own skin.

It was late one evening when I sat in the chair by the window, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that feels suffocating. Teddy had put Allison to bed and was probably in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner, but I couldn't bring myself to join her. I couldn't find the energy.

I stared out at the horizon, my thoughts swirling, all of it too much to carry anymore. I was so tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of holding on. Tired of pretending like I had anything left to give.

"Mia?" Teddy's voice broke through the silence, soft but filled with concern. She was standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself like she was bracing for something she didn't want to face. I didn't look at her right away. I couldn't. I didn't know what I would say.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely a breath. The words slipped out before I could stop them. "I'm so sorry, Teddy."

Her footsteps were slow as she walked over, kneeling in front of me so that she was eye level with me. Her hand reached out, but I pulled away instinctively, too exhausted to pretend.

"You don't have to apologize," she said, her voice a little shaky. "Mia, please... don't do this."

I felt the pressure in my chest, the overwhelming ache of it all, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let the tears fall. They came slow at first, but soon they were pouring down my face, uncontrollable and endless. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I didn't want to hold it in.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, Teddy," I sobbed. "I can't... I can't keep pretending. I'm so tired."

Teddy's face crumpled, and she reached for me, pulling me into her arms despite my resistance. I didn't fight her. I let her hold me, let her feel the weight of my surrender.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered into my hair. "Please, Mia, don't give up."

But I had already given up. I hadn't wanted to, but I didn't have the strength to keep fighting anymore. The fight had drained me, worn me down until there was nothing left to give. All I could do now was wait, wait for the inevitable, wait for the end to come and take me, and let those I loved have the peace they deserved.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice cracking with guilt. "I wish I could be the person you want me to be. I wish I could be the person I used to be."

"You are," Teddy said softly, though her words were thick with emotion. "You're still her. You're still my Mia."

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to hold onto those words, to hold on to any part of me that hadn't yet disappeared. But it was getting harder to remember who I had been before this. All the memories felt distant, like they were from someone else's life. The laughter, the moments of joy, the strength I had once had—it felt like it belonged to a person I no longer recognized.

"I'm so scared," I admitted, my voice small. "But I'm also... I'm also just tired of fighting."

Teddy didn't respond right away. She just held me tighter, her hands running through my hair in a rhythm that had always been soothing.

"I know," she said after a long pause. "I know. I just... I don't want you to be alone."

I looked up at her, my vision blurry with tears. "I'm not alone. I have you."

And I did. I had Teddy, and Allison, and my sisters. I had so much love, so many people who would carry me even when I couldn't carry myself. But there was a part of me that felt like it wasn't enough anymore. I couldn't fight for them anymore. I couldn't keep pretending that everything would be okay when I knew it wouldn't be.

The pain in my body was nothing compared to the ache in my heart, the ache of knowing that the people I loved the most would have to let me go. That they would have to live without me.

Teddy stayed with me that night, holding me through the hours until I finally fell into a restless sleep. But I woke up the next morning with the same hollow feeling in my chest. The same weariness, the same exhaustion.

I knew I couldn't keep going. I knew that no matter how much I loved them, I couldn't fight anymore.

It was time to let go.