Susan kicked off her shoes as soon as she walked into her apartment and collapsed on the sofa. Today had been one of the toughest days of her life.
Mark was dead.
She knew it had been inevitable. The day he had left, she caught his eye before he walked out the door, and she had known then that she would never see him again.
"Can't I just pretend he moved to the South Pacific and lived happily ever after?" she had asked Carter. It was easier that way; she didn't want to face the reality that he had gone. Not yet.
Mark had been her best friend, especially during the early years of her residency. They had clicked the moment they had met and Mark soon became her friend, mentor and confidant. They could be silly together, pulling pranks like putting Carter's leg in plaster; they could be serious together, like the time Mark made a fatal mistake with Jodi O'Brien. She could depend on him when she needed a friend; she could cry on his shoulder when she was upset.
But not anymore.
Susan's heart sank as she realised they would never share those kinds of moments again. She would never hear him laugh or see him smile; he would never be there to help her through a stressful shift or support her when she was arguing with Kerry. They would never save a life together again. They would never talk over coffee and reminisce about 'the good old days'.
She thought about the day she had left Chicago to follow Chloe and Little Susie to Phoenix. The day she had broken his heart; the day she had broken her own. Would she have gone if she had known what the future held? What was that phrase? 'Hindsight is a wonderful thing'. No, it wasn't. It made you sad when you realised the choices and the decisions you made were the wrong ones.
Susan shook her head. What use were regrets now? They couldn't change anything.
She sighed. On the table in front of her lay the post that she had flung there this morning in her usual rush to work. She picked it up and started to flick through the bills and junk mail, hoping to distract her mind, when she found a letter. The writing was scribbled, almost like a child had written it. The post mark was from Hawaii.
Mark.
She knew immediately. Her heart skipped a beat as she ran her hands over the envelope. She was almost afraid to open it. She knew he would be saying goodbye, and, inside, she wasn't ready for that yet.
'I wouldn't want any of you to think…that I didn't have things of a more personal nature to say to you,' Mark's letter had said.
Susan closed her eyes. So many things had gone unsaid between them. She wished she had been brave enough to say them before he had left, but she had put it off time and time again, trying to pretend that it wasn't real.
Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, Susan carefully tore open the envelope. With a deep breath, she began to read…
Susan,
By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I know I should have said goodbye in person, but, to be honest, it was too hard.
As I write this, you're in New York looking for Chloe and Susie. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not there for you, like you have been for me the past month. Because I don't think I could have made it this far without you. You've been my strength, not just during my illness, but ever since you walked into my life.
I've been thinking a lot about my life recently – choices I wish I had made, decisions I wish I hadn't. But, reflecting back on my life, I realise I had a good one. No, a great one. Marriage, kids, a career. Sometimes life was hard, but I was one of the lucky ones. I had everything I ever wished for.
Except you.
Looking back, my biggest regret is that you and I never had our chance to…I don't know. I don't know what might have been, but I know it would have been amazing. I don't blame you for leaving – you had to go, I understood that. Sometimes I wish I had got on that train and followed you. I think that not knowing what could have been between us is the hardest part.
Am I making sense? What I'm trying to say, is that I love you, Susan. I always have. And there will always be a piece of me that belongs to you.
I want that to make you happy, not sad. Don't cry for me. Elizabeth, Rachel and Ella are going to need you to be strong. I need you to be strong for them.
I know you're going to be happy in life. You deserve to be. I'll be watching over you, I promise.
Goodbye, Susan. Thank you for being my best friend.
Love MarkSusan read the letter, over and over again, until her eyes were so full with tears she couldn't see any more. She dropped her head into her hands and let the tears fall. She had spent the day at work trying to be strong, not wanting the others to see how upset she was. Only Carter had found her crying, but even his words of comfort couldn't take away the feelings of guilt and regret that she was carrying with her.
Yet, in a simple letter, Mark had taken it all away. There were no bitter words, only kind ones. He told her what she needed to hear…what she wanted to hear. He loved her, despite everything.
Susan got up from her seat and wandered over to the window, opening it wide. Night had fallen and the sky was littered with stars. When she was a young girl, about six, her grandmother had died, and Susan remembered her father telling her that every time a person dies, a new star is created. She had always believed it, despite her scientific nature. She leaned out of the window and looked up at the sky now, her eyes searching for Mark's star.
"How will I know which star belongs to who?" she had asked her father innocently.
He had looked down at her and simply answered, "You'll just know."
Susan's eyes settled on a star in the north-west sky. It wasn't the brightest star, but it had a glow around it that caught her attention. She smiled – that was his star. She stared at it, filling the night air with the clouds of her breath.
"Goodbye, Mark," she whispered into the quiet night.
She hoped that, wherever he was, he could hear her words.
"I love you."
