I taught him how to do it at the airport while we waited, just in case I was too tired or too weak to do it myself.
When he’s all finished, he slips out of the room, allowing me to change into my pajamas. I call for him when I’m done, sliding beneath the cool, puffy sheets and snuggling with the pillows.
“All good?” he asks, one eyebrow piqued.
“I might need the pink pill.” He squints his eyes at me, confused. “It helps me relax.” I point at the vanity and he looks back, going for the case of pills on top of it. He pulls out one of the pink pills, digs in the fridge for a bottle of water, and I down the pill, smoothing the swallow with a swig of water. “Thanks.”
“No problem. You all good now?” he asks for the final time.
“Yes,” I whisper, revealing an innocent smile as I curl beneath the blanket. “All good.”
“Okay. Well, goodnight, Shakes.” He walks to the connecting door again, flipping the light switch as he passes it. “I’ll see you in the morning.” The room darkens, but there are wisps of light seeping in through his room. He’s not gone yet.
“Max?” I call.
“Yeah?”
“Today was great. I didn’t mind getting lost with you.”
He laughs softly. “I didn’t mind getting lost with you either, Shakes.”
I’m quiet for a moment and he remains in place, unsure if he should proceed to his room or stay.
So, I give him a choice. “Do you think you can stay in here with me for at least an hour, monitor my breathing?”
“Oh—right.” He shuts the door, walking back to the bed. “Tessa told me about that. Just listen, right?”
“Yeah. But don’t be like Tessa. She runs a finger under my nose to feel my breath every five minutes.”
We both laugh. “Alright. You got it.” He takes the cushioned chair beside the bed.
“You can turn the TV on if you want. I don’t mind.”
He picks up the remote, flipping to a comedy.
I listen to him laugh and make smart-ass remarks about the shows until, eventually, I’m asleep and his laughter blends with my dreams.
The dreams are delightful at first.
A man is whispering to me as he stands behind me. His voice is deep and warm and comforting. I turn and the man is holding me in front of the Eiffel Tower, his arms wrapped around my waist while mine are wrapped around the back of his neck.
The man is Max. Our eyes are locked. We’re too close together but it doesn’t feel wrong.
John appears during the dream, searching the city for me, asking everyone if they’ve seen a woman who looks like me. He finds me and when he does, I’m kissing Max in front of the tower.
John calls my name and I gasp. Then he charges up to Max, ready to tackle and fight him, but before he can make it, Max vanishes into thin air.
I wake up, panting heavily, looking at Max who is now asleep in the chair, slouched with his head slightly turned to the side. The TV is still on. He hasn’t left my side.
Tucking my hair back and controlling my breathing, I grab the remote control, turning the TV off and relaxing again. I take off my tubes and flop back down on the pillows, blowing out a steady breath and staring up at the canopy sheets.
I shift around constantly, which eventually causes Max to wake up and reach for me. “Hey.” His voice is thick, groggy. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just can’t sleep.”
“Uncomfortable?”
“No. I’ll be okay. You don’t have to stay in that uncomfortable chair all night. You can go back to your room if you want.”
He sits back in the chair, lips twisting, his body adjusting in the dark. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”
“Kay.” I cuddle with the blankets, listen to the clock ticking on the wall. “Max?”
“Yeah?”
“Think you can sing that song for me? The one you used to sing when you spent the night at my place?”
“Aw man.” He laughs and I grin. “Okay. One sec.” He sits up, grabbing my hand and stroking the back of it as he starts to sing I See Fire by Ed Sheeran.
Don’t get me wrong, Max has a horrible voice—it’s all crackly, deep, and awkward—but it has always comforted me.
He sung it one night during karaoke at a bar that had two dollar drink night. It was great. Since then, this was the song he’d sing whenever I needed a pick-me-up or a good laugh.
While he sings, I drift to sleep again.
I dream, but this time it’s a peaceful dream. I’m surrounded by the people I love.
John.
Tessa.
Danny.
Max.
My friends from Capri.
Even Grandma Lane, Aunt Jessie, and my father, Abraham Hales. The only thing is I’m not actually there. I’m gone already, but in my heart, I’m glad to be gone. Instead of weeping at a funeral, they’re celebrating the fact that I’m no longer suffering while they cradle mugs of coffee or hold plates of cake.