I've Got Nowhere to Hide

I was a coward. Simple as that. One word, and I immediately left, not even waiting to hear what else she had to say. One word, and I was instantly on a flight halfway across the country. Eight months later, and I still regret it. It was the worst mistake of my life, and there's nothing I can do to change that now.

I still remember that day as if it were yesterday. Leila and I had been dating for the past year, but we'd been friends for the seven years before that. She was the second love of my life, but she was the only one that mattered to me. She came into my apartment that day so casually, just like every other day. She didn't make it seem like she had any news that was about to change both of our lives.

I was sitting at my piano, writing a new song that I was hoping to record when the band went back into the studio in the fall. I was so into the music, excitedly scribbling down notes onto the pad of paper I had in front of me, that I barely even registered when the front door opened and Leila walked inside.

I didn't even glance up as she walked around me to the other side of the piano, just staring at me as I continued to write the music. She'd learned by now not to interrupt me when I was in one of these types of moods, and I was grateful that she understood that about me.

I finished up the song, and I finally looked up at her to see she had a huge smile on her face. "Ethan, that was amazing," she told me. "Do you have lyrics for it yet?" she inquired.

"Not yet," I shook my head. "But, I'm sure they'll come soon enough," I shrugged, standing up from the piano and making my way into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. "What have you been up to today?" I asked her before taking a sip of water.

"I need to talk to you," she said suddenly, biting down on her bottom lip, a clear sign that she was nervous about something.

"Leila, what's going on?" I asked her as she walked into the living room, pacing back and forth across the room. "Leila," I said, reaching out and grabbing her arm to stop her in her place. She spun around towards me, but she didn't say a word. "Leila," I repeated, softer this time, beginning to really worry about whatever it was that she had to tell me.

"I saw a doctor today," she began, and I tilted my head to the side, giving her a curious look. I hadn't even known she was sick, let alone that she was going to see a doctor. I waited on her to continue, as she looked down at the floor, refusing to look up at me, and I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach, knowing that whatever impending news she was about to spring on me wasn't going to be good. "I have lung cancer," she stated.

I stood there frozen, repeating one word in my head. Cancer. She had cancer. Just like my mother had. Just like my sister had. I felt my chest constricting, and my throat tightening up, and I knew I needed to get out of my apartment and into some fresh air.

So, without saying a word to Leila, I turned around and walked straight out of my apartment door and continued down the sidewalk, not stopping until I was nearly five miles away. I didn't go back to my apartment until hours later, and I felt relief rush over me when I realized Leila wasn't there. Not thinking things through fully, but knowing I just needed to get away from Leila and anything to do with cancer, I immediately threw everything I could into a suitcase and drove to the airport without even a word to Leila.

Five hours later, I was landing in Los Angeles, ready to start a new life for myself. My band joined me out in California, and I made them all promise not to tell Leila where I was. She called me countless times those first few weeks, never giving up, even when I refused to pick up the phone. Eventually, the phone calls began to slow down, and she would only call about once a week, and after a couple of months, she finally stopped calling altogether.

I never forgot about Leila, as much as I wanted to. I often wondered how she was, whether she had defeated the cancer, unlike my mother and sister, and whether she had moved on from me. The record my band was currently recording was filled with lyrics pertaining to Leila and her cancer. It was something I just couldn't get my mind off of. I had thought about calling her, and the urge to do so had become greater in the past couple of weeks, not that I really knew why. Maybe it was because her birthday was coming up or maybe it was because our record was about to be finished recording and every single song made me think of her. I didn't really know, but every time I'd pick up the phone to call her, I'd talk myself out of it at the last second.

My phone started ringing, and when I saw the name flashing across the screen, I had to do a second take to see if I had read it correctly. "Hello?" I choked out, trying to find my voice.

"Ethan," I heard Leila say, but it didn't sound like she normally sounded. Her voice was weak, and I could hear her wheeze when she exhaled, and I wondered if that was from the lung cancer. "I know we haven't talked in a long time," she began.

"I'm sorry," I said the one thing that I had wanted to say to her since I had left.

"Ethan," she tried once again. "I wanted to see you again. I know you're busy with the band and everything, but I really wanted to see you one last time."

I repeated her last few words in my mind. One last time. What exactly did that mean? "Leila, how bad is it right now?" I asked, not even being able to say the word cancer out loud.

"I just really want to see you," she said, not answering my question, and I knew it was bad. "Is there any way you could spare a day or two and come back to Chicago?" she asked.

"Of course," I said without even thinking about it. Eight months, and I was still willing to drop everything for her.

***

Walking into the hospital, I immediately wanted to turn back around and take the next flight back to Los Angeles. This was the same hospital both my mother and sister had been in when they both died from cancer. This was the hospital that supposedly had the best oncology staff in the United States. But, they hadn't been able to save my mom from breast cancer or my sister from cervical cancer. What made them think they'd be able to save Leila from lung cancer?

I tried to push that thought to the back of my mind as I walked down the hallway, staring at the room numbers, trying to find Leila's room. I saw it at the end of the hall, and I stopped a few feet away. Did I really want to enter the room? Sure, I still loved her, but I had left all that time ago for a reason.

There was no way I couldn't walk in that room, though, and that's why I took the few steps and stepped into the room. I saw her sleeping in the bed, and I took a few moments to really look at her. Her hair was almost completely gone, and it was obvious that she had had chemotherapy, the treatment route they had taken for my sister that hadn't worked. She had an oxygen mask on that was helping her to breathe, and my heart sank for her.

I moved closer to the bed, and I saw her eyes flutter open. She moved the mask off of her face, smiling at me. "I was worried you weren't going to come," she spoke as I sat in the chair that was sitting next to the bed. I didn’t say anything to her, not really knowing what exactly to say. "I'm glad you did, though," she added.

"How bad is it?" I repeated the question I asked her on the phone. "Did the chemo work?" I asked.

"How'd you know I went through chemo?" she asked, and then her hand went to her head.

"I remember Maya's hair falling out when they put her through chemo. She hated it. She thought everyone was going to look at her differently after it," I told her, closing my eyes and recalling Maya's time in the hospital. She had found out about her cancer less than two years after our mom had died from breast cancer.

"I've gotten used to it by now," Leila said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Obviously the chemo didn't work if you're still in here," I said, and I immediately regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.

"No, it didn’t," she admitted.

"Is that why you called me?" I asked, realizing that the words were much harsher than I had intended them to be.

"The cancer's spread," she stated, and I closed my eyes. "They were going to take out part of my lung when they realized it's spread to other parts of my body. It's bad, Ethan," she finally admitted out loud. "That's why I called you. I know it's not fair. I know that you left because you didn't want to be around the cancer. I know that you had to watch your mom and your sister go through all of this, and that's why I finally let you go and stopped calling. And, I know that I shouldn’t have called you and asked you to come back here. But, I needed to see you one last time."

"I'm glad you called me," I admitted, and I could see the look of surprise on her face. "I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened and I hadn't gotten to see you again. I shouldn't have left," I told her, finally saying all the things I had been wanting to say to her for the last eight months. "I shouldn't have left you all alone. I was scared, and I ran."

"I don’t blame you for that," she told me.

"But, I blame myself," I responded. "Leila, I can't have another person die from cancer. I just can't," I said, tears springing to my eyes, threatening to spill over. "You've got to beat this."

"I don’t know if I can," Leila said, and I could see the tears dripping down her cheeks. "Ethan, I think it's too late."

"It's not too late," I told her, refusing to let her give up. "You've got to fight this," I said, and she nodded her head.

The next few weeks were rough on both of us. I decided to stay in Chicago with her, after the band had all agreed to put the record on hold. The doctors decided to continue chemotherapy, though they had been blunt when they said there was a very small chance that it was going to do anything since the cancer had spread to so many different parts of her body.

I could see Leila growing weaker every day, and all I was able to do was think back to when Maya had had chemotherapy and the hell it had put her through. It was doing the same thing to Leila, and part of me wanted to convince her just to stop it, wanting her to enjoy the last few weeks that she had left to live. But, I knew the chemotherapy was her only shot at living longer, and I couldn’t say no to that.

We had grown close again, and I found myself falling more in love with her every day. Every moment I was with her, I regretted leaving her for those months, wishing I had them back. I sat at her bedside as she slept, not wanting to leave her even for a few months. I knew that the end of her time on earth was drawing close, and I wanted to be by her at all times. I listened to the beeping machines, all which created this melody that I wasn't able to get out of my mind.

As I continued watching her, I suddenly heard one of the machines start beeping wildly, and I knew exactly what was happening, even though I wished it wasn’t actually occurring. I felt like I was having an out of body experience as the doctors pushed me out of the room and into the hallway. As soon as the doctor took the pads to the defibrillator off of her chest and took a step back, I felt my heart sink. This time she had left me, and there was no way she was coming back.

***
Three Months Later

I sat behind my piano up on stage. This was the first concert we had since Leila had died, and I wasn't sure if I was really ready to perform yet. I thought back to my first performance and how Leila had been in the front row. Now, as I looked out into the crowd, I saw nameless faces.

"As most of you know, I just lost the love of my life just a few months ago to lung cancer," I spoke into the microphone, and I heard the crowd quiet down, listening to what I had to say. "This song we're about to play, I wrote right before she died. I hope you guys like it," I told them as I started to play the opening notes, the same exact melody that the machines in Leila's room had made in my mind. I closed my eyes, getting into the song, as I sang the lyrics that held hidden messages about Leila. I knew no one else was going to understand just how much this song pertained to Leila, but I knew she was looking down on me right, understanding exactly what the lyrics were saying.