A Wish for Us by Tillie Cole
“Mmm.”
Cromwell got off the bed and reached for my guitar. My heart kicked to life when he brought it to the edge of the bed. He placed my notebook on the side table and placed his fingers on the neck of the guitar.
I held my breath for a second, waiting for him to play. And when he did, I knew it would sing to my soul like his playing always did. I knew he would play the music as well as anyone ever could.
But I never expected his voice. I never expected the pitch-perfect graveled tone of his singing voice to bring life to my words. I tried to breathe, but the beauty of his voice held any air I could have taken in captive. As I stared at this tattooed and pierced boy with a heart of gold, I wondered how I had been so lucky to have gotten this, at the end. I had made many wishes in my life, but Cromwell had been the wish that I never made. The granted wish that, in the end, was the one I cherished most.
Heart cold and alone, until it heard your song,
No symphony, no choir, not all notes, just one.
With a beat so loud, you brought rhythm to life,
With love so pure you turned dark into light.
For every breath I lost, I gained a smile,
I gave it all, just to sit with you awhile.
As the end grows near, I savor each kiss,
I pray for time, close my eyes and wish.
I wish to have a life with you,
And do the things I dreamed we’d do.
Chase the music, from dawn until dusk,
A wish for me, for you, for us.
You’d take my hand so tightly in yours,
We’d run over hills, over valleys and moors.
You’d kiss me by lakes, by trees and by skies,
I’d breathe you in, words, laughs, loving sighs.
Your fingers in mine would never let go,
I’d love you more than you’d possibly know.
You’d carry me home under stars and the moon,
And lay me down, in your arms, in our room.
I wish to have a life with you,
And do the things I dreamed we’d do.
Chase the music, from dawn until dusk,
A wish for me, for you, for us.
A whispered chance is what I hold dear,
My single last breath grows so very near.
I wish and I wish with all that I am,
And hold onto you for as long as I can.
I never dared hope for a love such as you,
With colors in your soul that you let me see too.
Now that you’re here, I vow to hold on,
For the life we dreamed, a life full of song.
I wish to have a life with you,
And do the things I dreamed we’d do.
Chase the music, from dawn until dusk,
A wish for me, for you, for us.
A wish for me, for you, for us.
I listened as the words washed over me. The lyrics that were me and him. That were us. I listened as Cromwell never played a note wrong, his voice expressing more in my lyrics than I could have done.
And I listened as Cromwell Dean, the boy I had seen on a grainy video all those years ago, reached my soul with his voice. As the music stopped, and the moment came to its natural close, I waited until Cromwell looked at me and said, “You’ve given me my dream again.” I smiled and replayed his performance in my mind. “I’ve heard my words played back to me. The most perfect of songs.”
Cromwell put my guitar down and crawled into bed beside me. He wrapped his arms around me as though he could protect me. As though his hold could fend off the inevitable. I wanted to stay this way forever. “There’s not a part that I regret.” I felt Cromwell still. His body was tense as his lips brushed over my head. “You . . . Cromwell . . . there’s not a part of us that I regret. Not the beginning . . . not the middle . . . and certainly not the end . . .”
I fell asleep like that, waking in his arms too. And I decided it was how I wanted to say goodbye, how I wanted it to be when the day finally came.
Because it was perfect.
He was perfect.
Like this, life was perfect.
And it was how heaven would finally greet me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cromwell
I walked down the corridor, each step heavier than the one before. And with every breath I took, the more my heart shattered apart. I saw the door closed and heard the low murmur of voices beyond it.
The call had come twenty minutes ago. I had left the hospital to grab a shower. The doctor had been coming to see her, so I said I’d be back soon.
The call told me that the moment I’d been dreading had arrived.
“Son . . .” Mr. Farraday had said on the other end of the phone. “The doctor has just been in . . . It’s time.”
I’d known it was soon. Bonnie was weaker than I’d ever seen anyone in my life. The color had disappeared from her face, but for her deep-purple lips.
I knew I was losing her . . . but I just couldn’t bring myself to let go.
My hair was wet and I had a lump in my throat that wouldn’t go. My feet led me to the room, but I didn’t want to arrive. Because if I arrived, it meant this was the end. And I refused to believe it was the end.
My hand hovered over the doorknob. My fingers shook as the knob turned. The room was quiet as I entered, Mr. and Mrs. Farraday sitting beside Bonnie, her hands in theirs. She was asleep, her pretty face perfect in slumber. I swallowed, my vision blurring with tears as I stared at her.
I couldn’t picture her gone.
I didn’t know what my life looked like without her, now that she was in it.
I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .
Mrs. Farraday held out her hand. I wasn’t sure if my legs would move, but they did. I slipped my hand in hers. She didn’t say anything. Tears streamed down her face as her daughter slept peacefully.
As her daughter lay dying.
As the love of my life slipped further from my grasp.
She could already have passed for an angel.
Mr. Farraday was on his cell. He shook his head, worry etched across his features. “He’s not answering. I can’t get hold of him.”
“Easton?” I asked.
“I told him to come back immediately. He said he was on his way. But he hasn’t come and I can’t get through to him.” Mr. Farraday ran his hand over his face, panic and stress evident in his eyes. “He went home for a shower. I should have gone with him. I—”
“I’ll go find him,” I offered. Then I looked back at Bonnie. “Is there enough time?” I rasped.
Mrs. Farraday’s hand clasped mine tighter. “There’s time.”
I ran to my truck. I tried Easton’s mobile, but it kept ringing out. I rushed to their house, but he was nowhere to be seen. I jumped back in my truck and flew to the campus. He wasn’t in our dorm room, and I tore across the campus, checking the quad, the library, the cafeteria. I couldn’t find him anywhere.
“Cromwell!” Matt’s voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Have you seen Easton?” I asked before he’d even had a chance to say anything else.
He shook his head. His eyes were downcast. “How’s Bonnie? Is she . . . ?” Sara and Kacey came up behind him. Bryce brought up the rear. I pushed my hand through my hair. “I need to find Easton,” I said, not knowing where the hell else to look for him, then . . .
I turned and ran when one last place came to my head. I made it to the hidden spot beside the lake in less than five minutes. But as I pulled up, my stomach fell to the ground. It was like I was seeing it from outside my body as I jumped from my truck and followed the flashing blue lights through the trees. I ran and ran, my breath echoing in my ears. My feet faltered when I passed Easton’s truck, and when I rounded the corner, only for a policewoman to stop me dead, I saw paramedics wheeling a gurney into an ambulance. My pulse thundered so fast in my head that I struggled to make sense of what was happening. And then I saw the rope dangling from
“No.” Dread washed over me as the ambulance pulled away. “NO!” I screamed and ran back to my truck. Fear like nothing I’d never known thrashed in my blood. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white as I got stopped at every friggin’ red light along the way.
I burst through the doors of the hospital and ran and ran until I got to Bonnie’s room . . . only to see a police officer talking to Mr. and Mrs. Farraday outside. My heart was in my mouth as I waited, a statue on the ground, for what would happen next.
Mrs. Farraday’s hand flew to her mouth, and her knees gave out. Mr. Farraday shook his head, “No” slipping from his lips as he followed his wife to the floor. My body shook at what I was seeing, at what was sinking into my head.
“Easton . . .” I whispered, dread cutting deep. “No.” My head shook, and my stomach felt like it had been hit with a lead pole. Mr. and Mrs. Farraday were ushered to a private room. Mrs. Farraday looked at me as they passed, excruciating grief shining in her eyes.
As if by a magnet, my eyes were pulled to the door of Bonnie’s room. She was alone. She needed me. I wiped my face and walked numbly to her door. She looked so small on the bed. Tears that I couldn’t help but shed spilled over my eyes and crashed to the floor. I moved to Bonnie’s bed and took hold of her hand. She stirred, her brown eyes opening and flicking to mine. “Cromwell,” she said, no voice to her words. “You’re here.”
“Yeah, baby.” I pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth. Her weak hand lifted to my cheek. She must have felt the wetness.
“Don’t . . . cry . . .” I leaned into her hand and kissed her palm. “Stay with me . . .”
“Always,” I replied and sat beside her on the bed. I pulled her close to me and held her in my arms. It wasn’t long before Mr. and Mrs. Farraday walked through the door. They were walking ghosts. I swallowed, and I couldn’t fight back the tears. Because in that second I knew.
He hadn’t made it.
A doctor followed behind. Bonnie opened her eyes as the doctor addressed her. “Bonnie, we have a heart.” Bonnie trembled in my arms as the doctor told her what was going to happen. But none of it registered as the truth hit me like a boulder.
Easton . . . it was Easton’s heart.
With one glance up at her parents, I saw the truth staring back at me. After that was a rush of activity. A team of doctors came in and started prepping Bonnie. When I could, I held her hand. Her eyes were swirling seas of confusion and fear. Her mum and dad moved to her and gripped her other hand.
“Easton?” I heard her ask, and my heart splintered apart into millions of pieces.
“He’s on his way,” her dad said, the lie so needed right now. We all knew Bonnie had to fight. She couldn’t know the truth.
“Need . . . him . . .” Bonnie whispered.
“He’ll be with you soon,” her mum told her, and I closed my eyes. Because he would be with her soon. More than she knew.
“Cromwell.” I opened my eyes. Mrs. Farraday was looking at me, her eyes haunted and broken. She moved aside to clear the path to Bonnie.
Bonnie held her hand out. I moved across the room and took it. Her fingers were so cold. Bonnie smiled at me, and it destroyed my soul. “A heart . . .” Her smile stretched as wide as it could, her purple lips showing the well of hope that was springing inside her.
“I know, baby,” I said, forcing my smile.
“I’ll survive,” she said, more determination in her slight whisper than any shout could boast. “For us . . .” I closed my eyes and dropped my head to her chest. I heard the labored beat of her heart and remembered the recording of Easton’s. Which soon would beat in her chest. I raised my head and stared into her brown eyes. And I knew that that new heart would destroy her when she learned the truth.
The doctors came in. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her lips one last time. “I love you, baby,” I whispered as she was wheeled away.
“I love you too,” came her faint reply. Bonnie’s parents walked with her as far as they could go. When Bonnie had disappeared though the double doors, I watched, emotions ripping me in two, as Bonnie’s parents fell apart for the son they’d just lost.
The son whose heart might just save their daughter’s life.
I dropped to the floor, the cold of the wall supporting my back. And I waited. I waited, with hope in my heart, for Bonnie to pull through. Then dread followed, because I wasn’t sure how she would ever get over this.
One twin died so one would survive.
My best friend, gone.
The girl who held my heart, fighting for her life.
And me, helpless to do anything to fix it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cromwell
I stood, staring at her through the glass window. She had a ventilator in again, and chest drains that took the fluid from her body. But I had hope again in my heart.
Because she’d survived the operation. And so far, the doctor told us it was a success. But as I stared at her face, her closed eyes that today the doctor told us should open, I knew it wasn’t that easy. Because today she had to wake up and be told that the heart that had so seamlessly melded to her body was that of her best friend, her twin . . . Easton.
I ran my hands down my face and turned to see Bonnie’s parents on the sofa. They were holding hands, but their faces were vacant and destroyed. Everything had happened so quickly. Too quickly, so everything was just hitting them now. They’d cried when they’d seen Bonnie brought back from surgery, but they hadn’t spoken much.
I had no idea what to say.
I looked at the spot beside me. Where Easton normally stood. My chest constricted as I thought of him. As I thought back to the first day, when Easton had taken me under his wing. As he paraded us through campus, larger than life. His vibrant paintings that had over time dimmed to darkness. And the colors that surrounded him, the bright colors that muted to grays and blacks.
Guilt swam strong in my veins. Because I’d seen the colors fade. But I thought it was because of his sister.
The police had come by today. They had ruled Easton’s death a suicide, which we knew. And they’d brought a letter. A letter they had found in his truck, addressed to Bonnie. Mrs. Farraday was clutching that letter as if it would somehow bring her son back.
I walked out of the hospital and pulled out my smokes. As I brought one to my mouth, I suddenly stopped. I glanced up at the sunny sky, at the birds singing mustard yellow and the leaves rustling bronze, and threw the cigarette to the ground. In fact, I walked to the bin and threw the whole pack away.
I slumped on a nearby bench, and everything hit me. Emotions built so high within me that they choked me. I wanted to run to the music room and pour it all out. But that made me think of Lewis, and I had to push that anger back down or it would destroy me too.
Patterns of music appeared in my head when I thought back to the first time I played the piano, when the colors showed me the way. I heard violins play pizzicato, heard a flute come in next. Then the piano would lead, telling the story of a musician born. Of a father sitting beside him, spurring him on. I saw my father fade in a solo cello. I squeezed my eyes shut. Then the story continued.
A hand squeezed my shoulder. I started and looked up. “She’s awake,” Mr. Farraday said.
I swallowed. “Does she know?”
He shook his head. “She comes off the ventilator tonight.” He nodded, showing a strength I admired. “She’ll know soon enough.”
I got to my feet and followed Mr. Farraday down the corridor to Bonnie’s room in intensive care. I washed my hands and stepped through the door. Bonnie’s brown eyes landed on mine. She had a tube down her throat, hiding her lips, but I saw the smile in her eyes.
She’d kept her promise. She’d made it.
“Hey, baby.” Taking hold of her fingers, I leaned close and kissed her forehead. My lips shook, hating that I had knowledge of something that would destroy her. Bonnie’s hands tightened in mine. I
Her eyes started to close. Tiredness pulling her under. I stayed beside her as long as I could. I waited in the waiting room as her mum and dad visited with her too. Then, when night fell, the doctor made us all wait outside as they took her off the ventilator. When the doctor came back through to get us, I felt a damn canon explode in my chest. I followed her parents to the room. Bonnie’s mum ran over to her and gently held her in her arms. Her father followed, and I hung back.
When they moved aside, Bonnie smiled at me. She was covered in machines again, but her smile was huge. I came close, then kissed her on the mouth. Her breathing hitched. “I love you,” I whispered.
Bonnie mouthed it back. Her eyes lifted to the room again. My heart plummeted. I knew who she was looking for. Her eyebrows pulled down and she blinked, the question clear in her eyes.
Where is Easton?
Her dad stepped forward. “He couldn’t be here, sweetheart.” He was trying to shield his sadness from her, but it wasn’t working. Bonnie watched him like a hawk. Mr. Farraday stroked her hair back from her face. But Bonnie looked at her mum slowly falling apart on the chair beside her. Then she looked to me, and her bottom lip trembled. My hands clenched into fists at my side. I felt useless, unable to stop her feeling what I knew she was about to feel.
“Easton?” she said, her voice croaky from the tube. Water brimmed in her eyes. “Where . . . is he?” I dropped my eyes, unable to watch this unfold. I tried to breathe, but the boulder in my chest wouldn’t let me. “Hurt?” she managed to ask.
Her mum sobbed, unable to keep it held back. Then I looked up and saw that Bonnie was looking at me. I had to go to her. My legs carried me forward and I took her hand.
Mr. Farraday stood. “There was an accident, sweetheart.” His voice broke on the last part.
Her hand shook in mine. “No.” The tears that had been brimming in her eyes tipped over her lashes and fell down her cheeks. And I watched, as her free hand slid from her mum’s and painstakingly slowly made its way to her chest. She closed her eyes over her new heart, and her entire body started to shake. Tear after tear fled down her cheeks and onto her pillow.