My Love, My Drug, My Release

Chapter 62: Brandon

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Earl asked as he slowed to a stop in front of the address Brandon gave me over the phone.

"That's okay, I don't want to soak up all your time; I'll find my own way home."

I climbed out, running a hand through my hand, adjusting my peasant blouse, a gift from Pattie Boyd. I chose it because it hid my recent weight gain, and aired nicely in the summer heat. Why do I care what he thinks of me? I don't need to dress to please him anymore. But despite my internal rationale, I wanted him to think I looked pretty, I wanted him to want me back, even if I'd fallen out of love with him months ago.

"Um, excuse me?" I coughed twice, getting the attention of saggy-jowled man sitting in front of a welcome desk, bloodshot eyes glazed over. "I'm here to see Brandon Hathaway."

He blinked twice, looking down at a sheet of a paper in front of him. "Lorraine Foxwell?" he asked with a thick, cockney accent.

"Yes, that's me."

"Alright, I think he's waiting in the living room for you, third room on your right. If he's not in there, come and find me."

I mumbled a thank you, slowly inching my way down the hallway. This place smelled like sickness and decay- dirty catheters, rubbing alcohol, vomit- and I barely resisted the urge to pinch my nose. Everyone I passed was under thirty, some of them with shaved head wheeling around IV stands, others in jeans and t-shirts, looking perfectly normal. 

But they were all dying.

When I reached the living room, I debated turning back, not sure I could go through with this. But Brandon sounded so earnest, so... heartbroken on the phone. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. 

A dozen or so young adults sat around in the milieu, some playing board games, a few watching a grainy TV. I scanned the room, but couldn't find Brandon's shaggy hair anywhere. I started out towards the hallway to go back to the front desk and like the man told me to when someone tapped my shoulder.

"Lo?"

I turned around, shrinking back fearfully until I realized it was Brandon. I barely recognized him. His hair was buzzed close to his scalp, cheeks sunken in, shadows under his eyes, but at least he was still wearing a leather jacket and jeans- his usual style.

"Brandon," I breathed, pulling him into a hug so he wouldn't see the tears springing to my eyes, covertly wiping them away behind his back.

"You came." He held me at arm's length, examing my face. "I didn't know if you would."

"Of course I did."

We stood there awkwardly for a second before he put a hand on my elbow. "Let's go for a walk; it's stuffy in here."

I allowed him to lead me down the hall to a red exit sign, shoving the door open. A gust of fresh air hit me in the face, making me sigh with relief. I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath so as not to inhale the scent of chemicals and vomit. I immediately felt guilty for the assessment of a home for terminally ill people.

"How are you?" he asked, leading me on a walk through a small garden. 

"Um, I'm okay, how are-" I cut myself off, stomach turning over.

Brandon chuckled mirthlessly, sitting down on a bench near some sunflowers. "It's okay, you don't have to walk on eggshells around me. I called you because- well- I don't have much longer and I was so..." He swallowed thickly. "I treated you horribly."

"It's okay-"

"No, it's not, and I'm sorry. I abandoned you. When I got to France, I thought about you every day until..."

I sat beside him, keeping a foot of space between us. "How long do you have?"

"It might be a year, it might be two, but I will die, almost certainly."

"But there's still hope, right?"

"I don't want hope," he snapped, reaching up to ruffle his hair, his face falling when he touched his buzzcut. "I just want to be here with you." He turned to face me, puppy brown eyes softening. "Can I kiss you?"

"No."

But he didn't listen, leaning forward to press his lips against mine. It was like kissing a dead fish, I felt absolutely nothing, but I knew I'd never see him again, never visit this clinic again, so I let him slide his hand over my thigh and pretend we had a future together.

Sorry this chapter is short, and sorry it took so long to update. I feel like I've been apologizing a lot lately, but I've just been having a ton of writer's block lately, especially with this story. New chapters will be coming pretty slow for the foreseeable future, I hope you can all bear with me.