The Promise of Tomorrow - 10

She fell asleep in my arms. Silky skin against silky skin. My hands were behind my head, but she had pulled herself up so her head and hand rested on my chest.

I watched her sleep. She was adorable. Her lips were parted slightly, and her chest rose and fell with an easy rhythm. She stirred a few times, and her legs locked around mine in a way that made my stomach jump and my heart skip a few beats.

Her mother would be worried, but I just couldn’t bear to let her go just yet. The night before was indescribable … it was the height of my life, and I really mean that. It was the best life could get, and I was reluctant to let it go. Which was why I had cradled her in my arms and whispered how much I loved her until she fell asleep, just so I could have the excuse of holding her for that little bit longer.

As the sun rose and cast a golden light over the pool, I suddenly longed to get into the water again. Careful not to jostle her, I slipped Ella out of my arms and lay her in a pile of grass. She looked stunning, lying there in all her bare beauty, the only thing she wore being my bracelet. The jolt in my chest was almost enough to make me lie down next to her again.

But something in the pond called to me. I slipped in and doused myself in the warm water, smiling as the clean rivulets washed all my worries away. Leukaemia didn’t always kill people. She knew about it, so she must be taking treatments for it, right? It would be all right. It would be all right.

Minutes later, as I just stood there in the water smiling like a crazy person, I felt warm arms wrap themselves around me underwater. I turned. Ella, in all her sleepy glory, stood there, her own smile almost as wide as my own. Almost as if I couldn’t help myself, my fingers reached up and retraced all the delicate planes of her face that I had already memorized but a few hours before.

"Good morning," she murmured happily, her beauty devastating even through the light shadows beneath her eyes and slightly hallowed cheeks.

Now that I knew, I wondered how I hadn’t realized before. She looked like my mother had right before … right before she passed away. Maybe I had realized it, registered some similarity, but couldn’t bring myself to face it.

"Morning sweetheart," I replied sadly, fighting to keep the lump in my throat from becoming larger than it was already. It felt like a constant inhabitant now – I was always on the verge of tears, when even the slightest thing could push me to succumbing to them. "Did you have a good sleep?"

I said the question to be polite – I knew that she had had a good sleep; she had hardly stirred even once.

"Mm - the best. Full of dreams, though, and angels…I saw angels." My breath hitched in my throat and my chest felt tight. She looked at me with pure, unbridled love shining from her eyes. "You were the brightest from them all."

I crushed her to me, wishing I could keep her safe from the horrible world that we lived in, filled with death and disease and war. She deserved better than this. She deserved better.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked her quietly - there was something in her eyes that told me she would lie.

"Absolutely fine." She chirped, but there was something fake in her tone. A tear spilled from my eye. I wiped it away dismissively.

"Can you walk?"

She stood, and then swayed unsteadily. I caught her before she fell. It was here. It was taking her away from me, just like it had taken my mother. Her eyes were full of the sadness that my heart was trying to bear.

"No," she whispered hoarsely, and I finally registered how sick she really was. She was slipping away. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t. She deserved better.

"I’ll call your mother. We’ll take you to hospital together." I told her, ignoring her vehement protests. I finally got her calm enough to dress her, and then myself. Then, with a heavy heart, I picked her light frame up and hugged her tight to my chest. She was so frail that it was effortless.

Somewhere in my mind, I realized that I was holding her like I would hold a bride.

"I would have liked to marry you." The words slipped out before I could stop them, and she looked up at me with wide, beautiful eyes.
"Marry me?" she repeated in a whisper that sounded saturated in disbelief. Despite myself, I smiled.

"Yes." I said simply, holding her tighter. The awe-inspiring smile that lit up her face was almost enough for me to convince myself of that hope again. God couldn’t take something so beautiful, could He? She didn’t deserve it.

I drove more carefully than usual, conscious of every bump and crack in the road that would jolt her. Glancing over at her, I saw a smaller version of her beautiful smile playing on her lips, and her head lolling against the window like she didn’t have the strength to hold it up. I blinked back the tears and reached for her hand, lacing my fingers through hers and locking them in tightly.

She glanced over and beamed, but her head was soon back against the seat and she was closing her eyes.

My eyesight was suddenly blurred by the tears that pricked in my eyes. We pulled up outside her house, despite her fervent protests; I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the porch. I knocked, and the red wooden door set into the whitewashed walls of the cottage swung open immediately.

"Ella! Oh baby, what’s wrong?" her mother was pale and drawn with worry – her hands were fluttering helplessly around Ella’s head. We had contacted her the night before to tell her that Ella would be with me and I had marveled at how surprisingly cool she was with it - now I saw that she had been sick with worry the whole time.

"She’s weak. I think we should get her to the hospital." I said, and my voice cracked so many times that I wondered where the gushing tears were. I knew where – hidden away, locked in a forbidden drawer, so that I could appear strong for Ella. Nevertheless, a few solitary tears still slipped down my cheeks. They were hot and salty.

"Oh. Oh. Ella." Her mum whispered, her fingers resting on her daughter’s cheek.

"I’m fine, mum," Ella whispered back, in her new, quiet voice. "Just fine." As she said the words, her voice trailed off and she snuggled deeper into my chest, clinging to me, locking her fingers around my shirt and smiling contentedly.

I swallowed hard, and raised my head away from her. My eyes locked with her mother’s, and we shared a few tears together.

"Let’s go," her mum said, and I took no more encouragement. We were in my car and zooming towards the local hospital within seconds. As we went, Ella’s mother told me her story. "Ella was diagnosed with leukemia two years ago. She started getting unusual bruises on her body, having night sweats, things like that. I thought it was your average fever at first, until I saw the unexplained marks on her skin. We took her to the doctor, and went through many, many tests.

The first few times came out clear. We were so relieved. Then the unusual things started up again, and she was retested. That was when they told us she had cancer.

I have to say, my baby took it well. She shrugged her shoulders, made room for treatments in her schedule, and carried on with life. Her friends treated her differently though, especially when she got really sick. It got to a point where all the nostalgia in our old home was bad for her - made her even sicker than she was. So we moved.

About half a year ago, the treatments stopped working. Nobody understands why, but her body started rejecting her medication. They decided to try stronger healing things, but none of those worked. And then Ella just got sick of it all. And we decided to move her.

Ever since we did, ever since she first met you, in fact, she’s been glowing with happiness and health. You’ve been so good for her, the antidote to all her problems. I thank you for that - I can’t express how much it means to me, or how much you mean to her. Thank you."

Her voice broke on the last few words, and I was sure she was crying freely now. We were in the hospital car park by then, and without another word, I picked a weak Ella up in my arms and made my way to the accident and emergency entrance.

As soon as I was there, and they saw her, a stretcher was wheeled up and she was taken from me, surrounded by her mother and at least a dozen doctors and nurses. I didn’t move. I didn’t feel I could. It felt like if I would, my legs would buckle and I would fall and curl up on the hospital floor, close my eyes and never get up again, because I didn’t have the strength to.

So I stood - eyes burning with water, hands curled into tense fists that turned my knuckles white, jaw clenched tight against my tears - and watched people I didn’t even know wheel away the reason for my existence.