Chapter 3 The Things We Leave Behind

"You should stay in the hospital and take care of yourself. You need to be in good shape for the wedding. I'll bring you a wedding present, so be good and wait for me."

I looked down from the window. Lachlan climbed into the passenger seat like he belonged there. Lexi leaned over and fastened his seat belt for him, the two of them moving with effortless familiarity.

Lachlan pointed at the glass music box I had given Lexi. Without a second thought, she picked it up and tossed it out the window.

Glass shattered on the pavement.

The little music box that had been part of our lives for five years broke into pieces.

'Lexi, I'm dying anyway. We won't be getting married. You can be with Lachlan now. Nothing's stopping you.'

I stepped away from the window and went to see the doctor about being discharged.

"Could you prescribe me some painkillers? I don't want the time I have left to hurt quite so much."

I did not want to spend the final stretch of my life lying in a hospital bed, waiting for the end.

…

Not long after I was discharged, Lexi called. "Why did you leave the hospital? Didn't I tell you to stay there and rest?"

I answered flatly, "I was getting sick of being there. I didn't want to stay anymore."

"No. Your health isn't good. You have to—"

Lachlan's voice came from the other end. "Lexi, my incision really hurts. Could it be infected?"

Lexi immediately turned her attention to him. "What happened? I'll take you to the hospital right now."

It was a long while before she remembered I was still on the phone.

"Just take care of yourself. Call me if there's a problem."

Then, she hung up.

I gave a self-deprecating laugh and hired a few cleaners by the hour to help me clear out everything Lexi and I had accumulated during our relationship.

The pottery, glass decorations, and little model house we had built together—I threw them all away.

Then there was half a drawer full of prayer cards she had collected for me. Those gave me pause.

…

Back when we truly loved each other, Lexi had gone to extraordinary lengths for my health. She searched everywhere for good doctors and donated to churches and charities, praying that God would protect me.

Later, she heard about a church known for its prayers for the sick. She bought an overnight train ticket and traveled for 36 hours just to pray for me there and bring home a prayer card.

After that, she went every year to pray for my health. I could not even remember how many times she had traveled long distances and spent hours on her knees praying for me.

The woman who had once loved me that much could now be so cold that she had forced me to donate part of my liver, pushing me toward death.

Throwing away prayer cards she had gotten from churches along with ordinary junk felt wrong somehow. After a moment's hesitation, I decided to keep the half drawer of them.

Once everything was cleared out, the bedroom felt noticeably more spacious.

I spent the night at a hotel. The next day, I contacted a funeral home and paid for a full-service funeral package. It included the funeral arrangements and removal of my body when the time came.

I was so impressed by their professionalism that I praised them extensively. Delighted, they even offered me a free gift set—a miniature collection of funeral items, including tiny wreaths and a coffin, so I could get a better idea of what everything would look like.

I happily accepted.

I had no idea the funeral business could be so accommodating.

…

Once all that was taken care of, I decided to live it up.

I rode roller coasters one day, got drunk at a bar the next, and even shared shots with a few pretty girls.

That very night, Lexi called. "Ryder Brooks, get your ass back here and explain yourself!"

I snorted and hung up.