Pieces of Your Heart

The Question

The beach house was just as Elodie remembered it when she had been there at Christmas, lovely, and warm with the sunlight that streamed in from the large bay windows. The two of them sat on the leather sofa together, not a word between them. Ian's heart pounded in his ears as he pulled together his last remaining bits of courage. He suddenly felt like the walls were closing in on him. He stood up and took Elodie's hand, and without saying a word, pulled her to her feet and led her out to the beach.

"Ian, what's going on?"

He sat down on the sand and stared out into the horizon, breathing in the saltiness of the ocean air. Elodie sat down beside him and put her hand on his arm.

"Are you ok?" she asked hesitantly.

"Elodie," he said, his voice low, keeping his gaze fixed out over the ocean. "Elodie, I'm so happy that you've found a home in San Francisco, playing in the orchestra. When I heard you play last night, I --- well, I couldn't believe it. You're so much more than you think you are. You're a gift, your very existence is a gift and I am so honored I got to be a part of your life for a while."

"What are you saying?"

He looked at her for a moment before turning his face away again. "Just let me finish, ok?"

She nodded. "Ok."

"You know that part of the reason I told you to go was so that you could live your life. But that wasn't all of the reason. I've been wondering for a long time if I should tell you, how I should tell you..."

Elodie felt a knot forming in her stomach as Ian's voice wavered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a prescription pill bottle, giving her a momentary flashback of that night at his house when she had opened the medicine cabinet stocked neatly with similar bottles of medication. He took her hand and placed it in her palm, wrapping her fingers around it with his own.

"Read the label," he said, his eyes locking with hers.

"Cyclophosphamide."

"Do you know what that is?"

Elodie frowned as she searched her mind's inventory of information. The name sounded so familiar and yet...

"That's something that Alex took for a while," her voice trailed off as her mind raced to put together what it was he was trying to tell her. "Ian, are you sick?"

"I have cancer." The word left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Elodie felt a giant tear roll down her cheek. "Oh God, Ian. How long have you known?"

He hesitated. "A long time."

"How could you keep this from me? How could you let me leave without telling me?"

"I didn't want you to stay with me because of this. I didn't want you to stay and give up all that you've accomplished, all that you've lived so that you could see me sick and throwing up and losing my hair and coughing up blood. I didn't want you to give up living so that you could watch me die."

Elodie suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe. His words rang in her ears, drowning out everything else in her world. So that you could watch me die.

"So why are you telling me now?" she asked when she finally found her voice.

"Open the bottle," he said simply.