Tapestry of Scars

The Art of the Truth

Chapter 15:

The Art of the Truth

Emily couldn't believe her luck. They had just found their stride and now she felt like she was belly-flopping into the water without any control.

They'd been through this song and dance before. Only this time Alison hadn't gone looking for her medical records. Some idiot at her doctor's office had fucked up, and the information fell into her lap.

"When the hell were you going to tell me?" Alison looked at her in disbelief. "Were you even going to tell me or were you just planning on dying on me in the middle of the night?"

"I was trying to protect you..."

"This isn't something you can protect people from!" After all they'd been through together, especially with Emily's health, she couldn't believe that the brunette would keep her in the dark. "How could you not tell me your liver was starting to fail? How could you hide that from me?"

"I didn't want you to worry." Emily reached out to her, but Alison threw her hands up and shook her head. "I've been fine. It's early stage at this point. And we both know there isn't anything I can do. I just have to keep taking my medications to keep me comfortable."

"There are things they can do. They have live donor transplants."

"I don't have any living relatives that could do that."

"Well, did you even consider a regular transplant? Early intervention is key. We could get you on the list..."

"Be reasonable. I'm not a viable candidate. Not with my history." She ran her fingers over the thick bulbous scar on her left arm. It was still pink and fresh.

"You're taking steps to better your mental health. You're not drinking or doing drugs. And you served this country. They would take you."

"I can't take a healthy liver away from anyone else." Emily sighed, looking down at her feet. "I did this to myself. There are people out there who are more deserving. Moms with three kids. Children with degenerative diseases. People who were struck down in the prime of their lives who deserve it. I'm not more worthy than they are."

"You are to me." Alison's voice cracked. How did she not get that? "You don't get to just give up. Not after everything...not with what we have..."

"I understand that you're angry..." Emily gently gripped her arm.

"I'm not angry." She ripped her arm away from Emily. It startled Emily, because Alison never pushed her away. Not even when she was at her worst. "I'm disappointed."

That's just another way to say you're pissed off.

"I know. I get that..."

"No, you don't. You never have." And before she could stop herself, the emotions she'd been holding in since Emily's suicide attempt started spewing out. "You don't know how exhausting it is to love someone who is buried in the dark...who doesn't care whether she lives or dies. You don't understand the impact you make...what you've done to my heart. Because it's like a piece of me belongs to you. And it hurts to watch you wilting away. And I know it's not your fault. But I also know that you feel something. And I thought that would be a reason enough for you to want to live."

"I do. It's just...my mind..." Emily grimaced, "...it doesn't work like that. It has nothing to do with wanting to. Because if I had my choice I would choose you every time. But there's a part of me...it takes over sometimes."

"I know. And I accept that part of you, Em." She moved forward, reaching out to touch the brunette's face. "What I can't accept is losing you. I jump every time my phone rings. I sit at work wondering whether or not you're okay. I worry every night that you won't come home. I spend every moment wondering if this moment is the last. Because I love you," she said tearfully. "And it's fucking exhausting."