'even if that while is forever'
Troye's POV
We get back home late that night, Jacob’s childhood home, to retire for the night. As we walk up the path to get to the front door my arm is wrapped tightly around Jacob’s torso, the envelopes weigh heavily in my coat pocket.
He places his hand on my lower back as we walk in and then shuts the door behind me.
“Do you want something for dinner, Jake?” I offer my tone soft and gentle.
“No, I just want to go to bed, Tro,” he tells me, his voice sounding exhausted. “But you must eat something if you want, I will be upstairs.”
“I’m just going to get a glass of water, I will head up just now,” I tell him. He squeezes my hand one last time and I make my way, rather warily, to the kitchen as I only hazily remember how the house is mapped out from the last time we were here.
I get to the sink and drink a glass of water with no problem though, without breaking any glasses deeming it a success, and up the stairs to Jacob’s room with only minor confusion but then I hear him call me, to guide me. As I walk in, I shut the door closed and I shrug out my clothes. I put on my sweatpants and a t-shirt from my suitcase. I take the envelopes from my coat and I walk over to the bed with them.
“Jake, your mom’s nurse handed me these,” I say as I sit beside him, he pulls me close to his side by the waist and takes the envelopes from me without a word. “She told me while your mom was awake she got the nurse to write them for her to give to us. Read it,” I urge, passing his one to him.
“Okay,” he says and I hear him open up his while I keep my own in my hands for now.
He is silent while he reads but I know whatever he is reading makes him agitated.
“What is it, love?” I question warily.
“I just want to know why she feels the need to blame everything on herself. And she writes here that everything in her will goes to me but I don’t want any of that Troye,” he chucks the paper across the room out of a sudden rage but then he cuddles closely to me, “I just want her,” he says brokenly, softly, his voice muffled into my shirt. “I can barely even read the rest."
“Shh,” I coo. “No one is forcing you to do anything. You can read the rest tomorrow, yeah?”
“Okay,” he says. “When are you gonna read yours?”
“Now I guess,” I say softly. I reach for my envelope beside me and as I open it I feel that Jacob’s mom even went as far as to make sure my name was in braille on the front, I smile small.
I carefully tear it open and then I open up the folded piece of paper, I can feel Jacob watching my every move. I know that Jacob enjoys watching me read. He has told me on numerous occasions that he finds it fascinating to watch and that he wants to learn how to read braille too.
I start at the top of the page.
Dear Troye
I sure hope this letter got to you as I do not think I will ever have another chance to speak to you.
I will start by saying that you are by far one of the finest young men I have ever met. I personally adore you, not as much as Jake of course, I don’t think anyone could adore you more than him, but I do. You’re so compassionate, loving and so wise for your age. I don’t want to put any pressure of any kind on you but you are the only person I have to go to for this, for being there for my son when I can’t anymore. I trust you more than anyone in my own family to take care of him. Now this is not me asking you to never break up with him or marry him the second after reading this, this is me asking that even if you two do part ways that you will check up on him even if he never even realises it.
But getting rid of Jake will prove to be a challenge, he loves you so very much you know, he would do anything for you. If he ever wrongs you I apologise in advance on his behalf, he will never hurt you, or anyone else for that matter, intentionally. He just forgets how to use his brain sometimes.
Thank for all you have already done for him, I consider you as family.
Tears fall down my face. Her words are so sincere, I can practically hear her sweet voice as I read the words.
“Are you okay?” Jacob questions. I nod while he wipes away my tears with the soft pads of his fingers. I know he wants to question what she wrote to me as well but he does not. I roll over onto my side to cuddle into him more.
“I love you,” I tell him.
“I love you too, Tro, so fucking much.”
…
Going back to the hospital again today proves to be even more heart breaking than yesterday.
I sit silently on the sofa in the corner of the room, listening to Jacob mutter things over and over to his mother who by now, most likely cannot hear a thing.
He tells her stories of things we have done together and stories of uni and even stories of Bruno. He reminds her that he is keeping his apartment clean and making sure to check his jean pockets before he puts them in the wash.
He tells her he loves her after every second sentence.
He doesn’t stop talking for the two hour period we get to be with her and I listen intently because he sounds happier than he has been all week, just because he is in her presence.
He got two bouquets of yellow roses, and as we leave he places one in her limp hand.
…
The inevitable phone call comes in the middle of the night.
As the home phone rings Jacob bolts up and sits awake.
“No,” he whispers to himself, I sidle back to his side. “N-no,” he says, his breathing becoming laboured.
I want to stay at his side but I need to go answer the phone down the hallway. I pray that it is not what my intuition is telling me. I follow the sound and once I answer I recognise the doctor’s voice and I know what he is going to say before he even starts his sentence.
I feel numb and I only exchange small, empty words of 'goodbye' and 'thank you for all you have done' and I hang the phone back up.
I turn and make my way back but I collide into something else, I quickly realise it's Jacob, his chest to be more exact, and I instantly pull him close to me.
“She’s gone,” he says in my ear, not lifting his arms to embrace me back but I hold him as tightly as possible.
“Yes,” I say so softly I almost think he cannot hear me.
He nods against my neck and I expect him to start crying but he is stoic. He pulls out of my embrace and I hear him slide down against the wall of the hallway, I sit right beside him without a word.
I find his hand and take it in my own. I lace our fingers together and I squeeze once but he remains still and silent.
The moment brings me back to when I had a breakdown of my own in my own hallway back in New York after my nightmare, causing me to end up in a panic attack.
Jacob was there for me that night and now it is my turn to be there for Jacob and I know this is not something Jacob can get over within a couple hours like I could have that night.
This is going to take a while longer, and even if that while is forever, I will not let him fight this battle alone.
