Until You're Cured

The Last Day

A/N: So, this is the last chapter guys. There will be an epilogue, but after that, this story is over. There were many tears writing this.

Just want to say thank you, once again to my amazing readers, when I talk about you guys, I refer to y’all as “My Wattpad friends” and I hope that’s okay. I love you all so much, you’re wonderful.

Emmi

 

The Last Day

I wake up to the feeling of Scott’s body wrapped around me and his lips pressing to mine. It’s perfect in every possible way.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers against my skin.

“Good morning to you as well, handsome.” I whisper back. He pulls back to look at me.

“I’m really going to miss this when I’m Cured,” he tells me, a sad smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

A bitter laugh escapes my throat, “No you won’t. You’ll be Cured and you won’t care about me anymore. That’s kinda the whole point of being Cured.”

“Don’t say that, I will care about you. You’re more than my boyfriend, you’re my best friend. They may be able to take the love from us, but they can’t steal our friendship,” Scott insists. We both know he’s lying. But it’s a lie that we have to believe because we have no one else. Once you’re Cured, you’re friends with people like you. The rich with the rich. Upper middle class, like Scott, with upper middle class. Poorer people, like me, with poor people.

I mean, sure, I tested well and scored really high on my evaluation, high enough to get me Kirstie whose family had more money than Scott’s did, but even then, our jobs would keep us apart. Lawyers and psychologists don’t really mix other than when they briefly cross paths at the Crypts. You don’t become/stay friends with people whose lives are different than yours. It’s illogical, or so they want us to believe.

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” I whine. “They aren’t supposed to take away the only things that keep us wanting to live. They shouldn’t be taking you away from me forever.”

Scott is about to say something when there’s a soft knocking at the door. His eyes don’t leave my face as he asks, “What do you need?”

“Mommy says that if you don’t come upstairs soon, she’ll have to call the lab people to come get you.” The ominous words drifting from the hall sound strange when said in Miranda’s quiet, little girl voice.

“How long?” Scott calls back.

“Fifteen minutes and then she calls, I think she said,” Miranda answers.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” Scott starts to get up and get ready, but I grab his hand so he can’t walk away.

“Mitch, you have to let me get ready,” he insists.

“Oh, no. You are not going anywhere,” I tease and with a tug, he falls back next to me. I wrap my arms around him tight enough that he can’t get up. Gone is the sad, emptiness of yesterday. I’m going to try to enjoy my last bit of time.

“Babe, let me go. My procedure is in about an hour, so I gotta get ready. Do you want the Procedure Squad called?”

“Yeah, kinda. Maybe they’ll take me too. Then I don’t have to live loving you, knowing you don’t love me anymore.” I say.

He just looks at me, shock in every line of his beautiful face. I had never let him know that I would even consider trying to get Cured early. “No, Mitch, you can’t come with me. You get Cured and our love dies today. It’s the end of us.”