Aftermath

Part XIII: Christine

Sunlight was streaming in through the curtains when I woke up.  Adam sat cross-legged on his bed, eating a banana.  I looked over at him and smiled sleepily.

“Morning, princess,” he said brightly, grinning.  He scooted over towards me and smoothed my hair.  “Feeling any better?”

I hummed in response and looked around the room.  My brow puckered.  “Where’s Tommy?” I asked.

“He, uh…he went home,” Adam said, flinging the banana peel into the trashcan.  His eyes darted to a random spot on the wall.

That’s when I knew something was off.  “Something’s wrong.  What happened?”

Now, if there’s one thing I know about Adam, it’s that he’s a terrible liar.  He shook his head.  “Nope.  Everything’s fine.”  His ears reddened—a dead giveaway.

I arched an eyebrow.  “You’re lying.  And I always know because your ears turn red.  Now, look me in the eye and tell me the truth.”

Adam closed his eyes and took a deep breath before saying, “We had a fight.”

“Oh, Jesus, Adam!”  I rolled my eyes in frustration.  “What is it now?  It’s not about me, is it?”

“Well, actually…”  He cleared his throat and looked away briefly.

“I knew it,” I said, shaking my head.  I couldn’t hide the incredulous chuckle that escaped me.  “I just knew it.  When are you ever going to learn that this is probably the stupidest thing to argue about?  I swear, the last time I had two guys fighting over me, I was fifteen.  Are you guys really that immature?  Does he honestly think that you don’t love him anymore because you’re busy taking care of me?”

“It appears that way,” Adam said quietly, looking down at his hands again.

I was silent for a while as I sat up and scooted to the edge of my bed, letting my legs dangle over the side.  “Well.  All I can say is that you’re not gonna be fighting for much longer.”  I paused, gathering up all the courage I possessed to say what I had to say next.  “My kidneys are failing.”

Adam did a double-take and he gaped at me with wide eyes, stunned.  “Christie, that’s nothing to joke about—”

“I know that, and I’m not joking.”  I sighed deeply.  “The doctors told me earlier when they were on their morning rounds.  You were still asleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?  W-what about dialysis?  Can’t they try that?” he asked desperately.

I shook my head sadly.  “It’s too late for that, Adam.”

“How did this happen?” he whispered.

“That was one of the risks of the transfusion,” I explained.  “The doctor told me before that the chance of anything like this happening was only about five or six percent, or something like that.  But it still happens.”  I shrugged.  “And my number just happened to be up.”  I watched as tears leaked from his eyes and his breathing became ragged.

His blue eyes were void of emotion, completely blank.  “How…how long do you…?”

“A week, maybe,” I replied, my voice trembling and just as soft as his.  “But I’m ready.  And I’m not afraid as long as you and Tommy are here.”

“This can’t be right.  It…it—no.  Just no!  I want a second opinion!”  By now, Adam was up and pacing in front of me.  He raked his hands through his hair in frustration.  Then he stopped pacing and, clenching his fists at his sides, shouted, “NO!  They’re wrong!”  He took a big, shuddering breath.  “I want a second opinion,” he repeated, quieter this time.  “I promised—”

“I know you promised me that everything would be okay,” I finished for him and I stood and gripped his upper arms.  I forced him to look at me.  “Adam, listen to me: there is nothing you can do.  I know you would move heaven and Earth to help me, but in this case, you just can’t.”  He hung his head in defeat.  “There’s no such thing as promises when it comes to one’s health.  I think”—I briefly looked down at my feet—“I think I always knew that something like this would happen.  That I wouldn’t come out of this alive.”

Adam shook his head insistently.  “But…”

“No buts.  We have to accept this.”  By we, I meant you.  I swallowed hard then, trying to force down the impending tears.  “Adam, you’ve been so strong for me this whole time, which was something I needed, and I can’t thank you enough for that.  But it’s time for you to just let go now.  I’ve let go already, and now it’s your turn.”  He remained silent, still staring at me with tears streaming down his face, his eyeliner flowing like little black rivers.  “Can you do that for me?” I asked.

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, then opened it again, and finally said, “I—I don’t know.”  He looked so broken in that moment, so vulnerable, and I hated seeing him like this.  So I did the only thing I knew to do.  I sat beside him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Adam, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, running my hand over his thick, dark hair.  “So sorry…  I didn’t know how else to tell you, I really didn’t!”  He wept into my shoulder and I, too, choked back a sob.  “Oh, Adam, please don’t cry.”  I kissed the top of his head and wrapped my arms tighter around his neck.  “I’m so sorry.”

Then he spoke.  “Why should you be sorry?”  His voice was monotone, without emotion.  “It’s not your fault.  If anyone is at fault here, it’s me.”  I looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes.  “If I had been at home, this would not have happened.  I just can’t believe that they wouldn’t have caught it in any of the tests—”

“Or maybe it was just supposed to happen,” I replied calmly but firmly.  “I doubt that anything went wrong with the tests.  These are my kidneys we’re talking about, not my blood.  This kind of stuff can just…happen sometimes, with little or no reason behind it.”

I saw a faint glimmer of determination in his blue eyes.  “Then I’ll give you one of mine.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, no matter how bitter it sounded.  “Okay, now you’re just talking crazy!  You are not giving me a kidney.”  My expression and tone sobered and I added, “Adam, you’ve given me so much already, never mind your own blood.  I can’t believe I’m even saying this now, and-and please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you to help me anymore.  Your role of hero and savior…that’s over now.”  I sighed then and placed my hand over his.  Tears flooded my eyes.  “I just want my friend,” I whispered shakily.  “That’s all I want, that’s all I ask for.  Please.”

Adam inhaled deeply, closing his eyes again for a second.  “Alright.”