Rachel Dyken - Toxic

I nodded. I couldn’t talk. Whatever words were forming in my mind wouldn’t make sense. They’d come out as a pitiful sob.

Without letting go of her hand, I leaned in and started to sing, while Tara went and slowly started pulling the equipment from Kimmy’s throat and body.

“I love my Princess, my favorite girl. Every time I hear her laugh, I want to save the world — cause she’s my, my, my girl.” My voice cracked and wavered as my mind replayed images of our times together.

Our first movie, her laugh, her smile, the way she kissed me, the love she gave me. The gift of her life was more than I’d ever deserve.

I kept singing. “My girl, my girl, she’ll always be my girl, and when the tears fall from her eyes, I’ll swear to never let her cry… never alone, never without me, never without us together. My girl, her and I will rule forever. My girl. She’ll forever be my girl.”

Princess smiled and closed her eyes.

Her chest stopped moving.

I knew she was gone — and I knew in that moment that God had received another princess into his arms. It happened so swiftly so beautifully that had I not been watching her face, I would have never known that she’d slipped away.

A vision of Kimmy running through Heaven brought a sad smile to my face — she was gone. And she was finally whole.

If I could take away his pain… If there was a way to transfer it from his soul onto mine. I would take it. Without hesitation I would take it all. Maybe that’s how you know you love someone. When you actually feel each tear they cry as if they were your own. When you feel each cut, each bruise, each hit as if you’re the one suffering. I bled for him. And in turn, he bled for her. Funny, how life comes full circle. —Saylor

Saylor

“She’s gone.” My mom said it softly, but it may as well have been a scream for as much as the announcement penetrated the room. “I’ll make the call to hospice.”

Slowly, Gabe released Kimmy’s hand and stood. “I need to call her family, make an announcement, get the funeral arrangements—” He staggered, nearly collapsing on the floor.

Without thought, I grabbed his hand and led him down the hall until we were in the music room.

I closed the doors.

I locked them.

And led Gabe to the piano seat.

“We’ll stay here…” I squeezed his hand. “…for as long as it takes.”

“What?” His eyes were glassy with tears.

“For as long as it takes for the sorrow and pain to transfer into acceptance. I’ll stay here. With you. By your side. I won’t leave.”

“Promise?”

“Vow.” I placed his hands gently on the piano. “I vow.”

“I can’t.” Gabe’s hand were lifeless against the keys.

With strength I didn’t even know I had within me, I put my hands over his and started playing. “Then let me play through you. Let me help you push through that pain until there’s nothing left.”

Gabe hung his head and let me help him.

Soon, his hands were gliding over the piano with such perfection, I was able to remove my own.

Tears collided with his hands. The drops caused his fingers to sometimes slip as he moved from one song to another.

Three hours we were in that room.

The only noise was the music Gabe played. Some sad songs, some happy ones, but in the end, sometimes words can’t express what’s in your soul. And talking to Gabe about what he just went through? Seemed silly compared to letting him bare it all to me with his music.

When the last note ended, Gabe stood.

I was sitting on the floor against the wall.

He walked over to me and dropped to his knees staring into my eyes for what felt like an eternity. Then he took my hands in his and pulled me to his chest. “I love you. If you remember nothing else for the rest of your life, if you fall and hit your head and can’t remember my name, if you get so sick you’re unrecognizable, if you hate me, if you’re on your deathbed and can’t manage to even lift a finger — remember this. I. Love. You. Always. Forever. Eternally. Is that kind of love something you can handle, Saylor?”

“I already am.” I choked back the tears. “I love you too.”

The room fell silent, only our ragged breathing kept me aware that time was passing. That it wasn’t a dream.

“Come on.” Gabe got up and held out his hand. “It’s a new day.”

I smiled and gripped his hand with mine. “It’s a new beginning.”

“That…” Gabe smiled and kissed my head. “It is.”

Death and love are the only two things that exist in this world that are strong enough to alter the course of your life, of your destiny. They either propel you or paralyze you. In the end, the choice is always yours. —Wes M.

Gabe

The funeral was over with before I even realized it started. I got up to say a few words and almost cracked. Then Saylor smiled.

And I was able to finish the eulogy.

I sang her song.

It was bittersweet. When I’d written her that song it had been during a time in my life when things were still so innocent. When she was still Kimmy to me, when I thought I would spend the rest of my existence in her arms.

If there was anything I learned in this situation it was that we weren’t promised anything. All we had was moments strung together. Each one is over in a blink of an eye. I’d understood this to an extent when Wes went through his surgery. God, I’d been so bitter about that. So angry because it hit so close to home. Because I’d known I was doing a crappy job of pushing away my demons.

But now? Now I just wanted to do right.

And doing right started with Saylor.

“Hey,” Saylor walked up and gave me a hug. We walked hand in hand out of the church. Oddly enough reporters had respected my wishes and laid off a bit. There were still cameras but the buzz felt different, as if they were mourning right along with me.

“You wanna go somewhere with me?” I asked.

Saylor shrugged. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, feeling the corners of my mouth turn up in a smile. “I really am.”

“‘Kay.” She squeezed my hand.

We said our goodbyes to Lisa, Wes, and Kiersten, and drove in silence down I5.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise.” I laughed. I actually laughed. Damn, it felt good. My hands were sweaty as I gripped the steering wheel and drove into downtown.

It was crowded for a Wednesday afternoon.

Saylor was silent as I parked as close to Pike Place Market as I could.

“Come on.” I laughed again and slammed the door. A smile formed at her lips as she grabbed my hand and giggled a bit.

My heart hammered in my chest as we ran down the streets. What started as brisk walking turned into a full out run. I had no idea why. It just felt — necessary.

Once we reached the bottom of the hill right in front of Pike’s Market. I held up my hand and went over to the spot.

“Fish.” I pointed to the sign. “Our first date was fish.”

Saylor burst out laughing. “So are you saying every date from here on out is going to involve fish?”

“Only the important ones.” I winked and went up to the guys working the seafood for the morning. “I need salmon, a big-assed salmon.”

The guy nodded. “Alright, you ready for it?”

“Oh…” I held up my hands. “I’m not catching it. She is.” I pointed to Saylor.

She gaped. “What if I drop dinner?” She held up her hands.

“Chill, Nemo’s not alive.” I winked. “Better get ready, Saylor, becauase they throw hard.”

The guys started counting. “One—”

“Ahhh!” Saylor clapped her hands and gave me a panicked look.

“Two!” I joined in.

“Oh, my gosh!”

“Three!” The man threw the fish.

Screaming, Saylor closed her eyes but still managed to catch the giant fish.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as Saylor lifted the fish in triumph. “I did it!”

“I knew you could.” I kissed her temple.

“Are we really eating all this fish?”

“Maybe not all of it.” I shrugged and offered a wink. “Unless you’ve suddenly developed the appetite of an NFL lineman.”

“Hey!” Saylor nudged me with her body. “You said you’d love me regardless…”

“Truth.” I nodded and pointed at her. “That’s the truth.”

“So the fish?” She lifted it in the air.

“Oh no, you can keep it.” I patted her head in teasing. “We’re going to cook it tonight, and I’m going to make good on my promise to strike out the very last tear.”

“How do you expect to do that?” Saylor’s shoulders lifted. “By feeding me?”

“You’ll see.” I rubbed my hands together. “Now, let me go pay for Nemo before we go back home.”

“Your car’s going to smell!” she called after me.

“So will your hands!” I fired back.

Her eyes narrowed.

By the time I paid for the fish and helped her carry it up the hill and place it in the car, my stomach was already growling for food.

“Hey, you do know how to cook salmon, right?” Saylor asked once we walked into the house that I was hoping, praying, she’d still want me after I said what I was going to say.

“What?” I dropped my keys onto the counter. “You mean, you can’t cook?” I threw my hands up in the air. “How can you even call yourself a woman? What have I gotten myself into! I’m going to starve!”

Saylor crossed her arms over her chest. “You done yet?”