Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

get that out before I had to either hang up the phone or drop it.
    I sat on the ground with my back against one of the large rocks and I hugged my arms around myself, shivering violently, as I waited for Andrew to show up.
    I was near to unconscious with cold and pain by the time he crested the rise and spotted me in the dark. The bright beam of his flashlight passed over my face once without stopping before it swerved back and stayed fixed upon me.
    Since the last time we had seen each other, I'd shaved my head (as a preemptive strike against losing my hair) and lost about 30 pounds due to the nausea from my treatments. I am sure I looked like a pale, gaunt ghost of my former self, if his reaction was anything to go by.
    He rushed towards me, stumbling over the uneven rocks in the dark. He stopped mere inches from grabbing me up into his arms, apparently unsure of how or if he should touch me.
    "Oh my God, Shawn. What happened to you?" He asked, in a hushed whisper. Even spoken that quietly, his words flew out on the cool air, over the flat surface of the lake below and seemed louder than they were.
    I was shaking so badly at this point that I could barely get words out. "C-c-can you t-take me home?" I saw a brief battle in his eyes as he debated pressing me for details, or just doing as I asked. In less than a breath, though, he said, "Yes, of course."
    He leaned over to help me up, but as I tried to stand, bracing myself on his arm, my legs gave out completely. I was surprised when Andrew merely lifted my emaciated body and carried me like a baby, with one arm under my shoulders and one under my knees. I felt warmer already, as his body heat seeped into my left side. With a sigh of relief, I let my head fall against his shoulder, feeling safe for the first time in so long. I was asleep before he got to his car at the bottom of the stairs.
    CHAPTER 2
    I woke up, momentarily startled to find myself piled under blankets and in my own bed. I took a minute to shuffle through my memories of the night before and groaned when I remembered calling Andrew and then passing out.
    I sat up slowly, surprised that I hadn't needed to puke in the middle of the night. Usually a bad treatment left me nauseated for a couple of days. I thought I was safe enough for the time being, until I began my stumbling walk towards the bathroom. After the first step, it turned into a falling dash to the toilet. I made it just in time to empty the non-existent contents of my stomach into my porcelain goddess.
    I leaned my head against the toilet seat as my stomach calmed, attempting to will away the tears in my eyes and the burn in my throat. It didn't work. The solid clanking of glass against the counter nearly startled me out of my skin, and the motion caused another round of dry heaving before I was able to look up and see Andrew staring at me with unreadable eyes.
    "Give me a minute." I rasped through my raw throat. He hesitated briefly and then left the bathroom as I had requested. I began my morning ablutions, thankful for the glass of water he had brought me.
    It took me twenty minutes or so to put myself together. It was just as well because I needed that time to figure out what I was going to say. I knew we were over as a couple, and that it was mostly my fault. I didn't blame him for breaking up with me, but now I needed someone . I was so tired of trying to do this alone, and he'd said he'd always be there if I needed him. I hoped "dying of cancer" counted as needing in his book.
    I took one last look in the mirror trying, and failing, to remember the pale blond hair and bright green eyes that used to look back at me before I went out to meet my fate in the living room. Andrew was sitting on my couch, looking deliciously rumpled in jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt. His curly brown hair stuck out in all directions, as if he had been running his hands through it over and over again. His deep hazel eyes stared at me, full of questions, as I settled in the chair across from him.
    I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times as I was overwhelmed with my first real sight of Andrew in six months. My heart seized in my chest, and that old ache reared its ugly head. I wanted to throw myself in his arms and beg him to love me again. I pushed back the tears threatening in my eyes and began nervously.
    "I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to call you on one of my bad days." I took a breath to continue but was cut off by an angry growl coming from Andrew.
    "So