25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Christian

I entered Mr. Samuelson's room carrying some more fudge and a picture of Darren and me together. I felt rather silly doing that, but he'd asked for one, claiming I was closer to him than his own children, which made me so sad. The older man and I had definitely grown close, and I made sure never to miss one of our visits.

He'd also grown less surly, which truly showed how valuable having a friend was. This program I worked for was amazing, and I hoped to continue something similar while in college.

"Knock, knock," I said, smiling.

He looked up from the book he was reading in the chair next to the window.

"Christian! Good to see you, boy."

"Hello, Mr. Samuelson."

"Do you have more of your grandma's delicious chocolates? "

"I do! And I have the picture you asked for."

I handed him the packages I'd wrapped as if it was his birthday and sat on the edge of his bed.

He opened them with a small smile. He pulled out a piece of chocolate and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he opened the present and pulled out the silver frame with the photo.

He coughed a few times, so I poured him some water that was sitting on a table and handed him a cup. He drank some down and then inspected the photo.

"Very nice picture. You boys are handsome young men. You two look good together. Happy."

He handed me the framed image. "Could you set it over on my nightstand next to the others?"

I gently placed the image next to an image of his ex-wife and one of his kids together. A pang grew in my heart that they were never here and abandoned him, never giving him a chance to make up for everything.

"Is everything good between you two still after you had your talk?"

"It's been perfect. God, he's so sweet. It hurts me when he has his insecurities, worried about being good enough, but I'll always be there to lift him up when he needs it."

He patted my arm with a trembling hand. "You're a good boyfriend."

I smiled shyly. "I try."

He set his chocolates down on his lap. "It's really hot in here."

When I looked at him, sure enough, he was beading with sweat. It didn't feel hot to me at all, but I was always cold in the air conditioning.

"Do you have a fan? I can plug one in for you."

He shook his head. "I don't, but there's probably one here in the facility."

"I'll go ask."

I quickly left his room and hunted down one of the nurses. "Hello, do you all have a spare fan?"

"We do. Does someone need it? "

"Yes, Mr. Samuelson."

"I'll bring one right over."

"Thanks so much."

When I came back into his room, I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart suddenly beat so fast and heavy that it made me nauseous.

Mr. Samuelson was sprawled on the floor, the chocolates scattered around him.

"Mr. Samuelson!" I cried and rushed to his side. "No, no, no…"

I quickly rushed out the door. "Help! Help! Emergency!"

I dropped back by his side and eased him up. "Please," I whimpered.

He was moving, so he wasn't dead, but he didn't look good at all. His skin was so pale.

"Chris…"

"I'm here."

"Don't… don… don't let me… die… alone."

I choked back a sob. "You're not going to die."

"Pl-please."

"I'm going nowhere."

The nursing staff scrambled in, and I moved away to let them do their thing. They put him into a comfortable position and made him slowly chew an aspirin.

"9-1-1 has been called. The ambulance is on the way."

I nodded, though they probably weren't talking to me at all.

Once he was comfortable, he reached a bony hand to me. I crawled over to him and grabbed it.

"I'm not leaving you," I said as the tears spilled, despite my efforts to hold them back.

He nodded and closed his eyes.

God, his hand was so cold.

"I'm sorry… I'm not… going to… enjoy your… picture."

A sob escaped me, but I swallowed it all back. "You will. You'll be fine."

He shook his head.

As soon as I heard the ambulance in the distance, Mr. Samuelson slumped over. He was wrenched out of my grasp as they gave him CPR.

I stood, holding myself, watching the horror unfold, feeling helpless and useless, wanting to be there to hold his hand, but I couldn't get in their way.

The EMS rushed in, lifted him, and placed him on a gurney.

"Can I ride with you?" I asked as they rushed him out.

"Are you family?" one of them replied as I followed them out of the building.

"Yes," I lied. Maybe it wasn't such a stretch.

"Come on, then."

I had to sit in the front as they treated him in the ambulance, but I talked to him, in case he could hear me, to let him know I hadn't gone anywhere.

A few minutes later, we reached the hospital, and he was rushed off, probably for emergency surgery, and I was left behind to worry.

I wrapped my sweater around me in the cold waiting room and called Darren.

When he didn't answer, I texted him to tell him where I was and what had happened.

I woke with a jolt as someone lifted me into their arms, staring up at the beautiful sight of my boyfriend's face. I curled into him and started crying again.

Darren sat down on the waiting room sofa and held me as I cried it out.

He reached over to the table next to us and grabbed a fistful of tissues, handing them to me. I blew my nose and wiped my face. "Thanks. "

"How is he?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"I'm sorry I missed your call, baby. Dillon was struggling, so I went to see him."

"It's okay."

I sat up and rested my head on his shoulder as he rubbed my back, inhaling his addicting and familiar scent, putting me at ease.

"Are you hungry or thirsty?"

I shook my head.

Who knew how long we sat like that before a doctor came out looking for me?

I stood as my heart thundered in my ears, grabbing Darren's large hand in mine, needing to be grounded.

"Are you Christian?"

I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I'm sorry to say he didn't make it. Does he have any family we can reach?"

I gasped and sobbed. "Maybe the nursing home has information, but I… I don't. Oh, god. Poor Mr. Samuelson."

"And who are you to him?"

"A friend… a close friend."

"Then I'm sorry for your loss. We'll try to reach out to his family to make arrangements. Just to let you know, he asked for you, and we told him you were close by."

I nodded. "Thank you, doctor."

Darren drove me home since I'd left my car behind at the nursing home.

Darren carried me all the way inside the house. I could walk just fine, but I loved how he took care of me and wanted me to be as close to him as possible.

"Oh, baby," Mom said. "What's happened?"

"Mr. Samuelson died today. "

"He didn't tell you?" Darren asked.

She shook her head. "No. Why didn't you text me, honey?"

I shrugged. "You were working."

My grandparents came out to talk to me, too, but I just couldn't. Not now. I talked a bit with them, but I was so tired. I left them behind as I slowly walked upstairs to my room, got undressed, and lay in bed.

Darren spooned me from behind and held me tight. His strong arms and warm body made me feel safe and not so alone.

"I've never seen anyone die before," I whispered, my eyes still watering.

He kissed my head and pulled me against him tighter. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"God, I'm going to miss him."

"You were there for him when no one else was."

"I'm not sure I can do this again… go back, meet someone new, form a bond, and have them die, too."

Darren breathed a long sigh in my hair. "That's up to you. It's the price you pay getting close to people who are already close to dying. Try not to think about losing out, but what they gain from your friendship. Mr. Samuelson didn't die alone because of you."

I stifled another sob as I nodded. Darren was right, though. Mr. Samuelson benefitted from my being there, and others would benefit from it too. I just needed time to recover.

"I'll try."

"You don't have to try to do shit. It's your life and heart. I just want you to understand that you did a lot of good, but it's also okay to step back if it hurts too much. You're a good soul, baby. You have so much empathy and forgiveness in your heart. That was exactly what that man needed."

I rolled over in his arms and put my face into his throat, inhaling my comfort, my safety, my home.

"Thanks for being here, Dare."

"I'll always be here."

I wasn't invited to the funeral, which was somewhat disappointing, but I didn't know his family, and they didn't know me. They probably didn't even know about me. I supposed since he was in the military, they'd give him some special ceremony, hopefully.

"Christian?" Grandad called from the bottom of the stairs.

I opened my bedroom door and came down. "Yeah?"

"There's a box for you that's been delivered. It's still on the porch."

"Thanks."

Who could've sent me something? Did Darren send me a gift? Usually, he liked to give me things in person.

I opened the front door and found a medium-sized box that wasn't too heavy, so I lifted it and carried it inside, placing it on the floor in the foyer. The mailing label said it was from the nursing home that I volunteered at. My heart suddenly beat harder as I rushed into the kitchen, grabbed some scissors, and sliced the packing tape open.

Sitting on the floor, I pulled out the carefully wrapped items. Tearing away the tissue paper and bubble wrap, I gasped at what I held. My eyes watered, feeling entirely unworthy to be holding Mr. Samuelson's folded flag. The tears spilled as I reached into the box to find another box holding a couple of military medals.

"Oh, god…"

His family should've gotten these. They belonged with them, whether or not they got along.

I hiccupped a sob as I pulled out an envelope with a letter inside, covered in shaky handwriting that I struggled to read. Reading cursive wasn't easy, let alone by someone who struggled to write .

"What do you have there?" Grandad asked. He looked down and saw me crying. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Mr. Samuelson… he… he… left me his important things. I don't deserve them. God, he was so nice and lonely. Why couldn't his family forgive him?"

Grandad sat next to me, wincing at his bad knees, and wrapped an arm around me. "You also only know the new version of Mr. Samuelson. You've never met the old him. Sometimes, it's hard to forgive when things are bad for a long time."

"I suppose, but he tried so hard."

"I know, Chris. Take these gifts for what they are… gifts to a friend from someone who appreciated you."

I nodded and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. "Can you read this? They don't teach us cursive at school."

He chuckled, took the letter from me, and read it as I played with the watch Mr. Samuelson had given me on my wrist.

Dear Mr. Mallory,

No words can express what your friendship has meant to me. I know I come across as a sourpuss, but you saw through all that. With your kindness and understanding, I've had some joy in my life. For that, I thank you.

I don't have much to give, but I'd like you to have these things. They're important to me, and I think you would treat them better than my family would.

Your friend,

George

Grandad folded the letter and handed it back to me. "Seems you made quite the impression on him."

"Yeah… I don't know if I can go through this again."

He squeezed my shoulder. "It's up to you, Chris. But he clearly got some value out of it. Decide for yourself if that's worth it."

I nodded. "Thanks, Grandad."