When I wrote Halo, that's what I imagined was happening with Sara. I always wondered whether people could see it, too. I put hints in Halo in the last four chapters, but I don't think anyone noticed. Enjoy Sara's P.O.V.
They haven't said anything besides that despicable question Sara asked when she got home. Jack was back. Jack, the man Sara loved, had had a child from; had had a strong relationship with, was back. Sara's ex husband. He's back. He's not only back but he was working with Sara, next to her. He was going to work with Sara and Tegan was going to graduate this month. How ironic was life! Why this place? Out of all places? He was chasing Sara again, Tegan knew, Sara knew, Stacy would probably say that, too.
So are you gonna leave me now? Sara asked as soon as she faced Tegan in the kitchen. She put her black briefcase on the floor and cupped her face. Tegan looked at her from her periphery as she stirred the chicken soup she was preparing.
Sara walked away before Tegan could speak. It was fear once again that dwelt in Sara's chest; the fear of being abandoned. So are you gonna leave me now? Tegan could not get the irksome question out of her head. That's how her lover dealt with relationships, that's how her past lovers dealt with her, that's what Jack and his likes did to her. They left her when she was hard to handle, when she made mistakes, when she couldn't express herself or what she wanted, when she had it tough and was reflecting it on them.
It was that after all the preaching and promises, Sara still felt that Tegan was going to leave. Tegan was angry and upset, but there was always discussion and talk as an option to solve issues and errors. Sara didn't have that in mind; it was either perfect or she was supposed to be dumped. It made Tegan feel sorry for this woman she was going to marry. How was she going to marry someone who was scared of their own actions and their own self? How was this woman going to become a mother?
Tegan remembered the notebook and what was written, she remembered Sara's thoughts and how hard it was to read them, she remembered the pain that was written in each page, she remembered and recalled what Sara felt…but she could never feel it. Life was cruel to her, that's why, Tegan thought. Life was not Sara's friend so she assumed that she would be left in every possible occasion.
She was curious about the silence in the apartment. She took careful and slow steps with her bare feet towards the bedroom. Sara was not there. She walked to the bathroom, the door was not closed and the shower was running. Sara was in there. She didn't want to let Sara know she was there but she worried Sara might be hurt or in pain when she heard the sobs of her lover. She took a quick look. Sara was alright. She was taking a shower and crying, something Tegan had done many times.
She could go there to comfort Sara but she wanted to support her decision of making Sara regret her past actions by being cold and hard-headed. She went back to the kitchen. She cooked for her lover and made a soup. Sara was still hurt from the previous day; she could see it in her walk. She made pasta; it's one of the few things she did well. She made it with a thick white sauce that she took its ingredients from Sara's recipes notebook. She put chicken and mushroom and broccoli; it was almost like a fettuccine but it did not have the same pasta. She used the Penne Rigate box Sara had in the cupboard next to the fridge. She wanted to brew coffee for Sara but didn't want to increase the stress the older woman was in. Sara never drank water, it was quite unhealthy. She didn't want to give her beer or a soda. She poured water in two glasses with ice in each. Sara never showed any aversion to ice before, but never showed any love for it, too.
She went into the room. Sara was on the mattress. A pout on her face and tears in her eyes. Tegan put the food on the nightstand beside Sara. Sara cried after making a mistake. Tegan couldn't understand this childish behavior but it reminded her of herself a few years back.
"I'm not leaving," Tegan said. "But one day I just might if you keep it like that." She didn't want to be harsh but that was the truth that stained Tegan's chest. "If you keep holding the remote control over my life, I might leave because I can't deal with being treated like that."
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry." Sara was begging; hands holding her lover's, face pleading with regret. "I don't know why I did it. I don't know."
"You don't know why you do a lot of things." Tegan sighed. "I can't believe a doctor suggested the idea. How unprofessional."
Sara cried more. "She didn't. I did. She only agreed." Her face was not down; it was at level with her partner's. They looked each other in the eye. Fear stood there and past haunted Sara's eyes.
"Still unprofessional. If my mother knows about it, her thoughts that you are using me for my body would be proved correct."
"I am not." Now Sara's face was down, eyes staring at pale hands in shameful regret. "My life seems to keep falling apart. My life seems to keep falling apart," she cried with hiccups.
"It's not falling apart. I'm…I'm not going to stop the drugs or the vitamins. I promised you we would start the process within a month, I'm keeping my promise."
It was not that. No. Sara cried for another reason. It was strange that Tegan seemed to have forgotten about it. Did she really forget? Or was there another blow?
"Jack is going to live here." Sara sniffled.
"I know."
The professor shook her head as more tears left her eyes. "It took me…it took me years to break away from the mental abuse I was put in. Years to stop seeing his face in each dream; as a monster, a joker, a ghost, a villain. It took me years to stop hearing his voice, to stop waking up in the night because I'm scared of him."
Was that the same Jack she described with a smile? Tegan moved closer to her woman.
"Tegan, Jack hurt me. He was not good with me. He hurt me. He cheated on me. I loved him, though. I truly did. He was only good when we dated. He was only good when I was pregnant. He never hurt me physically but he did emotionally and I thought I'd always be scarred because of his actions. It took me years to forget his lingering presence that made me want to vomit at times because of how terribly I loved him and how terribly it did hurt me being around him."
Tegan didn't know what she was supposed to say. What was there to say?
"I ran away from him. I ran away still loving him and I never understood why I did, why I loved such a man that wanted to see only the smile on my face, the happiness in my voice, the delicacy in my touches…he never wanted to see the image you're seeing now and it shocks me that you're so okay with me crying, bleeding, hurting like that. It shocks me that you're so okay with me being an asshole and an abusive person like that."
"No, no, no," Tegan talked. "You're not like that. Don't say that. You're not abusive. You're not. You're controlling and dominant, yes. You're not abusive and you're not an asshole."
"When I was sick, you know, you read it, when I was sick he stood by my bed, he caressed my cheeks, he cried for forgiveness. I was not in love with him anymore, only then I could see how badly he did hurt me. I never wanted to talk badly of him but then I saw, I saw, I heard. I was almost in a coma but I did see and hear. I had been enlightened in that state. I thought it was the light before death, where you finally see things; see them clearly…become aware of your surroundings, because just then I saw how badly I hurt you, too. I understood everything."
And to that, Tegan couldn't respond as well. She took the white porcelain bowl and stirred the soup with a spoon.
"But I didn't want to go back to him even when he promised he wouldn't do what he did, say what he said to me. He promised to love me right. I didn't want to go back to him. I told him about you and about how much I loved you. See, he's here to get revenge. He's here to try to come between us, to take my life away, to destroy my love and what's remaining of my happiness."
"Open your mouth," Tegan whispered. Sara wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She opened her mouth and Tegan put the spoon inside. Tegan hoped it's not too hot. "He won't come between us. He won't if you don't let him."
"Mmm," Sara's eyes closed like a kid would close their eyes when they were tired and sleepy. Sara was beautiful, so beautiful, breathtaking…in each state, she was always handsome.
"Do you like this?" Tegan fed Sara more soup. The older woman held her lover's sleeve tightly as she swallowed the warm liquid that appeased her angry stomach.
"Yes," Sara almost moaned. "It's delightful."
"Are you still in pain?" Tegan asked. She kept feeding the shivering professor.
Warmth spread through Sara's body. Being taken care of like that soothed her pain, whatever pain it was. She felt like she needed such caring actions, such tender touches, such calm words. She was glad Tegan didn't shout nor yell. She warned though, and she did it coldly. But it was better than the shouting and the screaming Sara was used to from different people.
"Are you still?" Sara asked.
It was strange though; Sara was the one who was supposed to take care of her student, attend to her needs, cook for her, feed her, give her all the motherly affection she had restored in her bosom.
"Do you forgive me?" Sara asked again.
She didn't want Tegan to leave her for being weak but Tegan didn't seem to care. She let her show her vulnerabilities and talked to her about them. In relationships (her friends at university told her) both parties should give an equal amount of attention to each other, should take care of each other the same way. It felt hard for her to see that with heterosexual relationships. It always felt like the man was the one who gave because he was dominant and the woman received and whined because it was adorable to be this way. Dana told her she was wrong and that's how a relationship would be broken. In same sex relationships Sara was still struggling with the gender norms. She never wanted to be the one wearing the pants and making the rules, but with Tegan she felt that it was necessary because Tegan was young and required care. Her friend Charlotte told her that this was not the same case; Sara was seeing herself as a mother to Tegan more than a lover and that's a worse destruction to a relationship. But Sara didn't know how to act in a different way. Her lover was small and dependent, she loved that, she loved it. Her lover was quite childish and it amused her. She knew that even if she had a child, she would still treat Tegan the same way.
But now in her state, with Tegan feeding her and wiping the residue of soup off her face; helping her drink water and stroking her hair, she began to understand Tegan's view. It did feel nice being treated this way, to her, but to Tegan it only felt nice once in awhile. To her it felt normal, she loved it, she craved it, she wanted it. It brought her back to her eight-year-old self in her mother's lap, her mother telling her a story and putting a small spoon in her mouth. While all the kids her age laughed at her. Stacy and Audrey made fun of her. No eight-year-old was still sitting in her mother's lap while her mother fed her. When Sara was in her mid twenties, she liked to joke about it. "Everything was always three years late with my mother. I think she thought I was an animated doll not actually a person." She almost laughed remembering so. She wanted to tell Tegan.
Tegan was going to feed her the pasta and her mouth was watering due to the smell. It looked so good. She looked up at Tegan in wonder.
"I'm not in pain. I forgive you. I understand you, Sara. I just want you to understand me, too."
"See, that's why I'm an asshole, because it's so hard for me to understand you at times. I act on what I think it would be right for me, but not for you. I don't get my brain."
"I want you to stop insulting yourself, please." Tegan tasted the pasta before Sara, just to see if it's hot or cold or needed anything extra. It was amazing.
Sara wanted a taste quickly.
"See? That's how I feel when you insult yourself and feel awful about it."
"Fair enough." Tegan held the fork to Sara's mouth and Sara took a quick bite.
Sara moaned. "This is so good," she said while chewing. "Who made it?"
"I did." Tegan smiled. She was not angry, that was good. It was great.
"Really? You're so good. How about you do the cooking from now on and I do the eating?" Tegan laughed loudly. It felt good to hear her beautiful laughter.
"I'm gonna deliver and feed the baby, you will do the cooking and cleaning."
"Deal." Sara grinned. "I wanna kiss you. I love you. I'm sorry."
"Come here, then." Tegan put the plate on the nightstand, held her professor's face and kissed her sweet lips, the taste of the pasta on her tongue.
"I love you, too," the younger woman whispered. "Don't do anything without telling me anymore. Don't take any decision I should take without me knowing first."
"I won't. I promise you." Tegan ate a bite from her plate and fed Sara after. "I like this."
"Me feeding you?"
"Yes." Sara tucked her hair behind her ears and rubbed her eyes. "It reminds me of when mother used to feed me when I was eight and Stacy and my cousin would make fun of me."
"Your mother used to feed you like that when you were eight?" It's weird, I know, Sara thought to say, but didn't.
"My mother's possessive. She did everything a little bit longer than other mothers."
"I'm kinda curious about when were you potty trained but I feel like I don't wanna know."
Sara laughed. "That's the only thing she did right as I've been told. Aunt Tara, Stacy's mum, told me she forced mum to potty train me when I turned two."
"And you make fun of my mum?" Tegan shook her head as she tsked. "How did your mum even let you have a life, Sara? She seems as if she thinks you're…"
"An animated baby doll," Sara cut her off.
"Yes, exactly."
Sara took a sip of water and Tegan did so, too. Her fiancée bit on the small ice cubes and chewed. Sara left them in the water; her teeth were very sensitive to crunch on ice. "When I hit puberty, I was ten, she was very shocked and I was not given the talk yet, of course, so I was shocked, too. I thought I was dying. She didn't know how to explain it to me so she drove me to Aunt Tara and told her to do so."
"Awww." Tegan had never thought Sara's mother was like that. When they were together two years before, Sara described her mother as if she was some type of a hulk that spread terror; a scary woman. Now it just seemed that Sara's mother was scared of letting go of the only thing that made her happy; her little girl who sought independence all her life due to her mother's actions. "That must have been awkward."
"It was. It was so awkward. But Tara's nice and she's like a mother to me, so it was okay. Stacy was sitting there eyeing me from the corner of her eyes as if I was a new person now because I started before her. That was the awkward part about it."
"Oh boy, I imagine that Stacy is like your mum when it comes to these things. She's so awkward. You'd probably find her outside our door with Ella in few years from now making us tell Ella why women bleed and where babies come from."
Sara took Tegan's wrist and dragged her closer when they were done with their food. She made the student sit beside her while she rested her head on her shoulder. "I think so, too. But you're kind of awkward as well."
"I mean, yeah…but not to the extent that my daughter doesn't know she has a vagina." Sara giggled and Tegan kissed her forehead.
"How was it for you? When you started your first period?"
"Oh, I knew. I was thirteen. I was waiting for it, thinking it's some kind of a magical experience." Tegan chuckled at the memory. "All my friends at school were talking about it and I just felt left out, so I was waiting."
"You regretted it then, I bet?"
"As soon as I knew why I was being stabbed in the back, I did." Tegan lay down and Sara lay beside her, put her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes. "Sara?"
"Mhm." Sara was thinking, thoughts troubled her. Sonia took a decision on behalf of her daughter two years before and she did take one on behalf of her two months ago. It was not right, how did a past experience that didn't end well motivate her to take a decision that she was not supposed to take without Tegan's consent?
"Are you in pain down there?" She heard Sara's faint laugh. "Because you were in the morning," she said hesitantly.
"I'm good. Only when I walk, it stings a little bit." Why were they racing like a train in her mind? The memories? The thoughts? She was scared of seeing Sonia once again, scared of calling her to discuss the small wedding dinner she had in mind, scared to face her and smile in her face. She could barely look Jeremy in the eye, how was she going to look at Sonia?
Tegan didn't know the exact words and precise actions she had done. Only Sara knew. She told Stacy but never wrote the details in her notebook. Tegan didn't ask; she was only angry at her mother. Sara was glad Tegan didn't ask.
How could she forget that day? The image was never to be erased. She remembered she was clad in a thin white shirt and her lover was in her underwear and a wife-beater. The mother was smartly dressed, looked elegant, looked a lot like her mother when it came to clothing. But when Sonia opened her mouth she could sense there was empathy in her tone and love in her eyes. There was only little judgment and even though that's bad, it's still better than what she had expected.
She was very ill back then. Her legs could barely carry her but she had to play tough because her lover was young and couldn't get it. She had to be a mountain in the morning because she was always melting snow at nights. Tegan carried her and loved her at nights when she fought and shrieked and said nonsense, but in the morning it had to be forgotten.
The pain in her lower abdomen scorched her as she sat with the mother who asked one question after the other. Her heart cried heavily but her eyes remained focused. Her anxiety was munching on her. She saw thin drops of red on her underwear and felt unfamiliar pain in her body; she sat with the mother of her lover and heard words that stung her deeply. Her world was crashing down and nobody could see it or feel it. In that moment she realized that, truly, she had nobody while everyone had someone to support them. Tegan was not there yet to see what was happening, she was being suffocated. Tegan had her mother for support. Everybody had somebody while she was dying. And she truly didn't know what was happening to her, how would she know when she was too scared to see a doctor?
"I gave Tegan the choice if she wanted to leave or stay, she chose the latter," Sara told the mother. She didn't want Tegan to go but never wanted to hold her captive in the dungeon of misery. Sonia was right, Tegan was just a kid. "I don't mean to make her life a living hell. I was fine one second and we were happy and now..." She was about to lose it and cry. She could feel her trembling lips and wrinkling nose, she could feel the thousands punches hitting her right where the pain in her cervix danced. "I love Tegan. I really, really do." She was desperate for support and care, for any type of sympathy and love, she was desperate for help but they all couldn't see it. She didn't know how to voice her needs.
"I know you do," Sonia said.
"You do?" Tegan asked.
"I didn't believe it at first but now I can see it."
"I…I need a moment." Tegan stood up like a little arrow shot in the air. Her eyes were circled with darkness and her lips were chapped.
"Are you okay?" Sara asked.
"Uh ya. I need to use the bathroom. Just...stay." Tegan left them; left her with the mother whose concerned face terrified Sara.
"Is my daughter alright? That's not how she looked when I last saw her. She had rosy cheeks and soft lips. She didn't have tired eyes."
"She…she is…" Sara's tears ran past her eyes. "She's fine…I'm just, I…didn't let her sleep last night, I've been hurting her without intending to, I swear. It's without my intention."
"Did you see a doctor?"
"I…I did a few tests, asked my friend…I'm scared."
"I am a doctor," Sonia said firmly.
"I know."
"What are the symptoms?"
"I…" She didn't want to talk about it to Tegan's mother. She didn't want to talk about it to anyone. Why didn't she have a mother like everybody else? Someone who would hold her and let her cry her heart out?
"I need to know what my daughter is dealing with, Ms. Clement."
"I had womb cancer. I removed it and removed my ovaries. I kept my cervix."
Sonia shook her head. Sara knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that her child was getting involved with an old woman who couldn't even keep her feminine parts, a woman who couldn't produce like every woman her age. "You should have removed your cervix. You should have." Sara didn't expect that response.
Sara cried.
"You bleed during intercourse?" the mother asked.
"I do."
"You feel pain during it." Sara nodded. "You need to go to the doctor. You need to hurry."
The professor wiped her tears. Strength was a goal she aimed for though she couldn't obtain, so she faked it for the sake of the woman sitting in front of her.
"I need a favor, Ms. Clement."
"You can…you can call me Sara." Ms. Clement felt too old; as if she was an old lady, and that reminded her of illness and death…she tried her best to neglect the ghost of death.
"Well, Sara, I need a favor. I'm asking for help and I know if you love my daughter truly, you will help me."
"What is it?" Sara was beginning to see the image; she was beginning to feel the departure.
"I want my daughter to spend the rest of the day and all night with me and I want you to tell her that. I don't want her to know that I asked you that. I want to talk to her; I have to know the story. I want to understand everything. I want you to convince her that you need some time on your own to think, please. I'm a mother; you don't know what that feels. It hurts."
"No," Sara whispered, "I don't." She felt the sharpest sting between her legs. They say that words could hurt more than sticks and stones—Sara was sure that was a correct saying by now. Sonia took Sara's number. Sonia told Sara not to pick up if Tegan called, not to respond if she texted. Sara felt as if her soul was on lead.
When Tegan took too long inside, Sara worried. She went there and found her lover on the floor. She fainted again. Sara could barely bend without groaning because of the pain she was in, but she did anyway. She helped Tegan get up and they went outside.
"Tegan, your mother and I think it's best if you leave with her today," Sara said when Sonia gave her the signal.
"What?" Tegan asked in confusion.
"Honey, I just need to catch up with you, that's all," Sonia said. "Just tonight."
No…you're lying. No. "Yes, Tegan. I need some time on my own as well." No. Don't go. I need you. I wouldn't want to break down alone at night. "And I think you need some time to rest your head away from me and my troubles." Please resist. Please stay.
"No, Sara, I didn't mean that. I wanna be there to help you."
"I don't need help. I just need time on my own." But it was all a lie. She knew it. She needed help, indeed she did. Her life was falling apart again; her love dying again. She was losing once again. It's the same old Jack tale once again.
Who would she call? Who would she cry to? She cried before her lover left. She kissed her, begging and pleading for the student to resist not going, to stay. She was going to die, was she? Oh, God, why did this happen to her? Was her father right? Was she an infidel? No…No.
She collapsed in tears and shrieks when she was left alone. Nobody heard. Nobody saw. Nobody felt. She slapped her face and pulled her hair. Her wails reached the seventh cloud and still her voice did not echo in sympathetic ears. Nobody cared.
Tegan texted and called—the temptation was too strong to respond but she did what she was told to. She sat on the floor and wailed loudly. With each loud cry the moon lost its shimmer and a star fell down.
She found a puddle of blood beneath her when she awoke. Her horror made her shriek in aching sobs.
She took herself to the ER with numb legs and a frozen heart. She could not cry, could not speak, could not project an emotion. She was examined by doctors she did not know and did not feel comfortable around. During examination she started to cry due to the pain she was put in.
She left the hospital with sonorous sounds imposing themselves in her brain—the sounds of reality, of the truth, of the facts she was trying not to face. Sick…sick, you're sick. Cancer…it's back…it's back…It's spreading.
"I believe it's too late," Sonia told her; bringing her back to the reality she was trying to protect herself from. The mother asked her to meet so they could discuss Tegan, the love of her life. How odd did it sound in her ears to have Tegan as a lover! How did she love her this much in a span of two months? Two months.
"I…" Sara could not speak a word. She felt too weak she could collapse. She needed aid. She needed somebody to hold her. She felt cold.
She took Sonia to the restaurant she and her lover visited a couple of months ago, they sat on the same table, she skipped university…all for Tegan. She was getting slapped by words that made her heart sting as she fought for her right to love the younger woman. "I love her; I can't stay away."
"I don't want my daughter to be put into this. This is so much heartache, Sara. It is so much heartache that I do not want her to get involved in. I don't want her to waste her youth mourning over your illness then mourning over your death. I don't want her to see a lover dying. That's not what's going to help her." Sara's loud cries brought the attention of the strangers to their table. "She's nineteen," Sonia's pleading sound rang in Sara's ear. Nineteen…not thirty-three. "She's a teenager still…why, why would you want to see her hurt if you love her?"
"I don't want that. I want her near me. I need her support."
"A nineteen-year-old, who does not even understand cervical cancer, is not going to help you when you are dying." Sara covered her face, slamming tears on her sensitive skin, feeling the burn on her pores. "I don't want to hurt you with more words, Sara. I just want you to walk away slowly. Please, Sara, I'm a mother and I am begging you. Think of me; think of your mother, of any mother."
"You want me to hurt her now?" Sara put her hand on her lower abdomen and wondered whether the missing part inside made a difference. Would she have felt what Sonia spoke of hadn't she removed her womb? Would she have been wiser if her daughter had lived?
"Better than later," Sonia mumbled. She took a small sip of her coffee as tears passed from her lids. Her hazel eyes looked much like her daughter's but they were lighter; emeralds. "I want you to tell her that you guys should…you know, take time for yourselves. Tell her it's temporary, for a short time. Tell her you want to leave, I don't know, make up anything so I can convince her to get back to the States with me this summer…and just then I'll, you know, I'll make sure she will forget you. Don't be cruel to her. Start slowly then ignore her. I know it might hurt you…"
"It will hurt me," Sara shot loudly. "It does hurt me," she said again, much softer and with a sniffle.
"I…I apologize. I want to protect my daughter."
Sara couldn't argue because Sonia was too ambitious to separate them; she was too strong and relentless, which made her think of Tegan and Tegan's insecurities. Almost everything made sense but also nothing did. Sonia wanted her to be mean to Tegan and then walk away, but Sara had another plan. Sara was going to convince Tegan they were together while staying away. She was determined to let Tegan see her mother's idea through actions. She was willing to try. She hoped Tegan would see it.
"If I heal, I will get Tegan back. I will marry her, I will. I promise."
"You don't know what you're dealing with," Sonia said. "But…if you actually heal and return and my daughter's still in love with you then I won't have a saying." And it surprised Sara how much Sonia controlled her daughter's life; an adult's life. "I just don't want my daughter to witness something she doesn't understand."
But death, death continued singing melodies in Sara's mind because everybody believed she was going to die. She, too, believed she was going to die. Her mornings became insufferable and, gradually, she was losing the ability to take care of her own. Some days she couldn't get her feet to take her out of bed and she would just lie there while she bled on the sheets she refused to change. Her visits to the hospital were recurrent. She visited twice a day at times in order to take shots and vitamins to pull herself through this last month. She knew by then she had to inform her parents because her cancer was spreading and she was not doing anything about it. Her turmoil and anguish stopped her willingness to get better. She also needed someone to be by her side when she removed her cervix. It was horrifying to think that it would be her own mother. She had dealt with that once when she lost her baby and she didn't want to deal with it again. And her best friend was going through a bad divorce; she couldn't disturb her with her cancer.
And Tegan…well, Tegan could not see any dot of pain, any phantom of tears, the restless eyes, the scarred chest, the screaming voice that howled for help and received no response from that hollow abyss that Sara was floating in. Sometimes Tegan looked like she had a halo around her head, angel wings behind her back, crystal eyes on her face—Sara drew her each night before the pain got the best of her and threw her into a fidgety slumber.
But Tegan couldn't see it was merely an act that Sara was pulling. She didn't want to hurt her yet she was doing what her mother feared. It was hypocritical and ironic. It was not what she wanted. In class they argued and she tried to remain calm, but at one point she couldn't because Tegan accused her love of having an expiration date. But it was her fault because she had said that. How did Tegan not see through each lie she'd told before? She was just trying to be strong. Tegan took her words and actions too literally and it was all her fault. It was her face, wasn't it? Was it that robotic in its expressions? Was it dead? Was she…dying?
"Some people love you so well and everything just vanishes when they're bored. Some people just can't hold onto love," Tegan clarified her point after Sara had asked her to in class. They were discussing the poem "Chess" by Rosario Castellanos and her lover was speaking daggers and spewing venom with each word that left her lips. Sara couldn't do anything but smile at the ironic state she was placed in.
"It's like, you know, you do everything, you give everything to those people. You love them, you are there for them, you sacrifice stuff for them, you put up with their issues, and you're so stupid because one day you wake up and you're pushed away. They don't want you there anymore. But you should have seen it, because no, it didn't happen one day all of a sudden, it happened so gradually and smoothly. Just like in the poem, it felt like centuries, you felt the hole that was growing bigger each day, you sensed the final blow, but, like, you convinced yourself that things will either get better, time will solve them, or everything will end when it'll end, and suddenly it ends and you don't know what's going on. What happened? Is it just over? Why is it such a cold ending for a relationship? Even the final blow seems so...emotionless."
"Is that what you think?" Sara asked with a low timbre. "Is that what you really think?" She could not process the words in her mind. She desired to fall down and weep, she wished she'd have wings and fly, she desired, just then, to die. Is that how her lover thought of her? That's how she made her feel? Flashbacks were bright in her eyes, recalling each word she'd said and each action she'd performed that made the student think it was a normal break up; an ugly one.
"Yes," Tegan said.
No, no. I'm sick, I'm sick. Couldn't she see it? What about the pain, the blood, the tears she had shed? Oh, no, no, she was dying. "Well then," Sara said coldly as she stared at each face in her classroom to avoid crying, "allow me to tell you that you are as you said: stupid." She had to leave this classroom, she had to go home, she had to think. "Class is dismissed."
Tegan left.
No, no…She had to chase her, to tell her, to reveal what her mother had schemed for them. She had to tell her. Yes, she was going to. She loved this woman, she loved her so much—she couldn't handle breaking her heart. And she knew that this woman was going to be the support she needed to stay alive. Did Sonia love? Did she even feel what a broken heart felt? Did any old woman love? Or did they forget about it with time?
Tegan was crying outside. She didn't want her to cry because of a ridiculous word she'd just uttered due to shock.
Sara gasped.
Tegan was kissing Emy…Emy was kissing Tegan. No…no…no. It was in front of her. One…two…three…no, no, no, no, no…why? Why? Her tears won, making her eyes water. Why? Oh, why? Why, God, why?
She had never felt such pain but once: when she was told she had lost her daughter. She never thought she'd feel such pain repeated, she never thought loss could come in different shapes and ways and forms. But it did and, God, not even the physical pain could compete with her bleeding heart. Her insides spasmed as if she was struck by lightning. In that moment she knew that Sonia's words were right; she was going to die.
I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
Sara's head erupted with melodramatic poems, sickening images of departure, sad songs of death, melancholic quotes from books she'd read in the past.
She rushed to her office to collect her things and go but Emy followed. She broke down in front of the last person she wanted to seem weak in front of. "Just go, go, go. Please go," she shouted and cried.
"Just listen to me. Just listen, I…" Sara pushed Emy roughly out of her office but Emy was stronger so she forced herself inside and closed the door, holding it with one hand so Sara wouldn't run away. "She told me you broke up with her. She said that. She told her mother that, too. That's why…that's why we hooked up. I didn't know…"
"You slept together?" Sara asked, fear like a veil covering her face. "Oh, my God, you fucked each other. Fuck you, fuck you and fuck her." She never thought she would lose it in front of someone she barely knew. She never thought she would.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I didn't know. She's hurting, I swear she regrets it. She does. I love her; I took the chance when I could get it. I didn't know."
"Get out. Get the fuck out. Leave, leave," Sara cried like a child, pushing her student out of her office.
"O Death, rock me asleep, bring me to quiet rest," she recited a poem stuck in her head since she was fourteen. "Let pass my weary guiltless ghost out of my careful breast." How she wished she'd hear her mother sing this poem once again. She had never realized the poem was written by Anne Boleyn till she got older. When she heard her mother singing it in the kitchen to herself one morning, Sara recalled feeling uncomfortable knowing her mother was singing of death; singing to death. She had fidgeted in her seat throughout dinner, and couldn't keep her eyes off her mum as she sat with her parents watching television after dinner. Till this day, she had no idea why her mother had sung such a depressing song about a woman who was going to be executed by her husband.
"My pains who can express? Alas, they are so strong. My dolour will not suffer strength my life for to prolong." Her mother's voice was dulcet and mellow. When she sang, she made the ears crave to listen. Even her father listened with ease when her mother had sung. She had a gift and it was her sweet, melodic voice that made the ears relax and the hearts cry. "Toll on, thou passing bell; ring out my doleful knell; let thy sound my death tell. Death doth draw nigh; there is no remedy…there is no remedy…"
Sara didn't want to go to that dungeon of distress that was once her apartment. She didn't want to see the bloody sheets, the empty rooms, the smell of sterilizers roaming in the air; her place smelled like a hospital yet it looked far from hygienic. It sickened her even more.
So she drove in the car, cried, sang to herself, listened to music she loved and cried more. What would she do now? Nothing, nothing. Do you know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember…nothing? Sara laughed loudly as her head remembered woeful words.
She listened to the lyrics of the song she had on repeat and remembered the happy times she had just began to fall in love with Tegan when Tegan was not aware of her existence.
Remember those walls I built?
Well, baby they're tumbling down,
And they didn't even put up a fight,
They didn't even make a sound.
She had always listened to this song, thinking it's silly how this song described how she felt when she never thought any song would. Poetry? Definitely. But music? Music never did until she heard this song one day on the radio while she was driving home from the bar.
I found a way to let you in,
But, I never really had a doubt.
Standing in the light of your halo,
I got my angel now.
Sara had already known this song when she heard it that day on her way home. She never really paid attention to it when it first came out, but that night…that night Tegan made her first appearance in Sara's mind as that type of ghostly angel that Sara kept seeing her as till now. That night Sara had her first dream of Tegan—nude, sweaty, trembling, shaky. It was a hot dream that she could not forget. In the morning she realized she was in love with this young woman.
It's like I've been awakened;
Every rule I had you breakin;'
It's the risk that I'm takin;
I ain't never gonna shut you out!
How was she ever going to get her out of her mind now? It's been years not just months. How was she ever going to forget about this heartbreak? Oh, she could never. She's been cheated on again. This time in front of her eyes and by the person she loved dearly. She's been let go of again. They all left her…they all did. She had only herself to blame. Only herself and her actions to blame. She was a person nobody could be around. Nobody could ever love her.
Everywhere I'm looking now,
I'm surrounded by your embrace;
Baby, I can see your halo,
You know you're my saving grace.
You're everything I need and more,
It's written all over your face;
Baby, I can feel your halo,
Pray it won't fade away.
She slammed her face against the steering wheel and sobbed when she parked in her street. Her wails were loud and embarrassing to hear. She moaned in fear and in pain and in misery. Nobody loved her. Nobody wanted to be with her.
Hit me like a ray of sun,
Burning through my darkest night;
You're the only one that I want,
Think I'm addicted to your light…
She couldn't hear the song anymore because her cries muted the hopeful vocals coming from her speakers.
She didn't expect to see Tegan in her apartment, but she wasn't surprised at all when she saw her lying on the dirty bed, hugging the teddy bear. Sara's heart softened at the sight but her face remained snow-like. Tegan begged and pleaded, cried and asked for forgiveness. Sara gave no chance, simply because Sonia was right: she was going to die.
Tegan couldn't stand being with her while she was dealing with mood swings and anxiety, how would she stay when her hair was going to fall and her body was going to require another person's full attention and care? Tegan wasn't different from Jack when he was sick of her after their loss. It was enough she was whiny and clingy before. But after their loss, she had lost herself and her looks to depression and grief. Jack couldn't do it and he was her husband, what made her think Tegan would when they only spent two months together and she was too young to know about such issues! Sonia was more than right. Perhaps mothers knew more and she was not one anymore.
Tegan did not look healthy at all, too. She looked way too thin, way too pale, way too bony. Her lips did not have the healthy color any human being would have, her cheeks were yellow, her eyes were sunken and all around them was dark. The girl was going to lose herself to anemia like Sara had done once when she was a little bit older than her. Sara didn't understand why younger women thought it was the key to project their misery; she forgot that depression played a major role in getting one's health to deteriorate this badly. She couldn't carry a child fully inside her due to incurable anemia that had stuck with her since her teenage years. She never took care of herself till she lost a piece of her. Even though she knew she was not going to see Tegan again, she didn't want her to lose a precious soul one day if she decided to have a family, and, most importantly, she didn't want her to lose herself and her health. She was gone and she was going to be forgotten, no need for the mourning. So she told Tegan to take care each time she saw her.
And when Tegan left, Sara collapsed on the floor, went into a tantrum that nobody could calm down. Stacy arrived that night to Montreal after Sara's hysterical call. Sara's state was slowly deteriorating when it came to both: health and emotional stability.
"Aren't you going to tell me 'I told you so'? Aren't you going to blame it on me?" Sara's tears fell on her friend's lap as she rested her head there all night and all morning, skipping university because she couldn't look Tegan in the eye.
"You have cancer, you're very ill and you're thinking of that? You're thinking of a little selfish girl who couldn't see you were suffering?"
"I am going to die, to die…I didn't want to die so I could get her back, but I don't think she loved me enough…nobody loves me enough," through tears, Sara spoke.
"Don't say that. Don't ever say that. People are the ones who are terrible, not you."
"I don't want to stay here. I want to go back to Vancouver. I don't want this place. I hate it. I hate it. I fucking hate it."
"Okay, okay," Stacy said. "We'll go back there. I…I live alone now. You'll stay with me and Ella. I'll take care of you till you heal and become better."
"I won't. You'll take care of me till I die."
"No, don't say that." Stacy started to cry.
"I have to hurt her to feel better. It hurts, it hurts. Nobody knows how much I loved her. Nobody knows how much I love her."
She wondered how she would hurt her. What would she do to hurt someone who was already hurting? Was she one of those people? She wasn't but she had to let her taste just a spoon of the pain she was devouring. She spent all night scheming till she figured out that the lowest she could go was making Tegan and Emy present the poem she recited while she made love to Tegan, to make her lover get a bitter taste in class as she stood there, to make her break down in front of people, to make her sense the ache Sara was feeling. Nobody did though, nobody felt it, nobody.
But her heart was not malicious; she wasn't evil— when Tegan begged her to change the poem because she couldn't present it in front of the class, she changed the poem for her. Tegan was already in pain, why add to it so they could be even? They were never going to be even because nobody felt her pain.
"Eww, mummy, look!" Ella pointed at the professor in a repulsed manner. Stacy gasped when she glanced at Sara sitting beside her daughter on the sofa. Her sweatpants were drenched with the red liquid but she didn't seem to notice.
"Sara, l…let's go…"
"Oh, my God," Sara shouted. "I'm gonna die."
"No, no." Stacy stood up. "Let's go to the bathroom. Let me take you to the bathroom."
"I'm drawing her, I have to finish."
"Sara…" If she stood she would fall and she knew it. The scene was horrifying to her, so she imagined how horrifying it must be to the child and her mother. She tried to keep herself calm and collected. She was panicking but she tried her best so Stacy wouldn't have to deal with her issues. She would take her own self to the bathroom and try to understand what was happening, but Stacy didn't have to.
"Come on, take my hand." She looked at the ink that formed the looks of her lover on her notebook. What kind of angel was Tegan that made her refuse to get treatment and die slowly? She was dying. Tegan was not an angel with a halo, was she?
"Ella, baby, can you wait for mummy and Sasa outside? Mummy is gonna clean Sasa's wound. She hurt her thigh with the pen." Sara almost laughed at the lie.
Her friend helped her take her clothes off in the bathtub while running water was turning red as she continued bleeding. She felt the pain rise in her body the more she looked between her legs, pain she had resisted and pretended it did not exist. "I still don't get why you're not getting immediate treatment. Are you waiting to die? It's spreading, Sara."
"It reached my kidneys. Do you actually think any treatment would stop it? I am dying, Stacy. Can't you see it? I'm just waiting to die in Vancouver not in here."
"Stop saying that," the friend shouted. She looked between Sara's legs and cried. "Why are you bleeding this much?"
"Because I'm dying."
"We should go to the hospital. You have to remove your cervix and kidneys now."
Sara laughed.
"Why are you laughing?"
"I told you I don't want to. I don't want to."
They spent all night waiting for the bleeding to stop and it eventually did in the morning. Sara couldn't go to university. It was the day Tegan was supposed to present her poem.
"You're going to remove your cervix and kidneys. You're going to start chemo right after. I have it all planned as soon as we land in Vancouver," Stacy said a week before their departure.
"You're wasting your time," Sara mumbled as she ate her breakfast.
She told her students she wasn't going to teach anymore because of her illness. Tegan cried in class and Sara wanted to cry, too. Most of her students cried, as well. It was a scene of pity and fear and she despised it. When she left, Tegan followed…or maybe it was her ghost. Tegan looked like one. How could her legs carry her? Sara wondered. Well, if I can still walk, she sure can, too.
"You're gonna die? Please tell me. Please let me be with you one more time," Tegan said. They were standing outside and it was quite sunny and the weather was beautiful, but Sara was cold.
"No, honey," Sara said with a smile. She didn't want to leave Tegan with a bad image of herself. At least, she thought, she should make their last encounters civil and calm. "I'm going to Vancouver next week. We can't be together."
"Let me be with you just this week." Sara wished, but she shook her head because she shouldn't. "Are you gonna die?"
"I don't know." She bit her lower lip to hold back all feelings. Sonia was right, wasn't she? Tegan wasn't supposed to witness that part.
"I love you," Tegan said.
I love you, too.
Sara didn't say it back because if she gave Tegan the tiniest hope, Tegan would chase and she would let her in and if she let her in, she'd see her in the miserable state that Stacy saw her in each night. Sara didn't want Tegan to see her in a tub full of her own blood, that's not a nice image to deliver.
Before Tegan could walk away, Sara told her to watch her health. And on the final's day, Tegan couldn't complete her test because she was too tired. Sara could see how terribly pale Tegan looked, she allowed her to leave her test unfinished and set a date for her to present the poem in her office. Just one last look into your eyes, just one last look where only you and I are present, just one last look at you even if at a distance, just so I can remember each feature when death takes control over my life.
That day Sara could barely get out of bed. The pain was acute she didn't think she could make it to the university. Stacy drove her after an argument and waited outside. The entire time Sara was hearing her student speak, she was losing more vigor and feeling worse pain. And when Tegan told her she would miss her, Sara knew that her days were going to be harder than she imagined. She cried on her way home, she wished she would hold her lover one last time, just one last time, but Stacy refused to drive her where Sonia and Tegan stayed.
"I can't look at her without wanting to cry. I love her, do you get that? I love her and it hurts me. It hurts having to show her that I don't."
"It's not a good idea. It's not. Do you even think her mother would let her see you? I don't think she would. Just stay away for now, just stay away."
Sara's health deteriorated to a great extent within two days. Stacy called Sara's mother so they could fill her in because Sara knew that even Stacy had lost hope. They were a little bit too late and there was no need for any type of treatment with her state. Flying back would end her, she knew it.
She lay in bed with a towel beneath her legs and a blanket that covered her feverish body. She listened to her mother's agonizing cries through the speakers. Stacy cried, too. Ella was frowning, knowing something was wrong but not knowing what it was.
"It's all my fault, it's all my fault," Evelyn cried.
"It's not, just shut up," Sara said groggily.
"It's my genes, those unlucky genes. I should have seen it. I should have known when you came here. I'm a terrible mother."
"Yeah…you are," Sara mumbled. "You are," she repeated.
"I'm coming down to Vancouver. I'm going to be with you."
"You don't have to. I don't want your pity."
"I am going to," Evelyn insisted. "I am going to."
Tegan knocking on her door was the last thing Sara would think of. She cried for Stacy to let her lover in but Stacy refused. She wished she could walk or even crawl, but she couldn't even do that. She sent Ella to call Tegan in, but her friend was determined not to let that happen. It made Sara fall asleep in tears eventually.
"What would one last goodbye do but hurt you more? You'll miss her more. It's okay, my darling. You'll heal and you'll get back. I promise you." It was the morning of their flight. Sara was feeling a bit better. Her cousin Adam had arrived to help Stacy with Sara. Stacy called him because he was Sara's favorite family member. Sara was happy to see him; it made her feel better.
"I will die. Don't promise something you don't know."
"You won't," Adam said. "You're strong. You won't. We'll help you keep an eye on that woman you love while you're there. I know how to do that."
And then Sara left Montreal, thinking it was the last time she was going to see her devilish angel; thinking love only took and never mended; thinking there was no hope after loss.
But there she was sitting in the arms of her lover, on their bed, in an apartment they shared. There she was being kissed tenderly all over her delicate body that craved attention and care. There they were chatting and discussing their life and their future, their marriage and the start of a family. Jack didn't matter, Sonia didn't matter—nobody did at this moment but themselves and the people who supported and loved their union.
"So what now?" Sara asked when Tegan stopped kissing her.
"Now we go pick Ella up." Sara groaned. "We'll love later." Tegan kissed her lips one last time before getting up to take the empty plates back to the kitchen.