Keegan shook his head, pleading with his eyes. He was all talk when it came to his anger with me. I think deep down, Keegan knew it was he who created the fall-out of our relationship. "No, no, baby, don't leave me. I'll sober up, please. Just give me a little longer."
He didn't get it. He didn't realize he had said those same words to me repeatedly throughout the years.
"I can't do this anymore."
He stepped into the shower with his clothes on, wrapped his arms around my neck, and cried. "Please. You're my world, August. I can't live without you."
I can't live without you.
He pulled away, took my face within his trembling hands. "I still love you. I need you," he whispered before kissing me.
I felt nothing through the exchange of our interlocked lips; no warmth or comfort. It was as if I was kissing a dead body.
"You're going to have to figure out how to live without me," I promised myself I wouldn't do this to him—leave him when he was going through a low point in his life. He had been through enough with his family and personal turmoil. It's why I was still with him. I feared who he might become without me. I was worried he'd fall deeper into a hole he would not be able to escape. I felt responsible for his well-being.
I couldn't do it anymore.
"Let's talk again when I get home from work, okay?" I said, running my hand down the side of his face.
"Please, don't leave me," he begged.
I felt pain for him. I knew he couldn't change who he had become. The disease took over his brain, stole his personality, and his heart.
For a while, I thought about moving out. Then things felt like they were evolving in a new direction. Yet, it was always a motion of revolving in an endless cycle of disaster. Still, I'm not one for drastic decisions, and I knew we would need to have a long talk before the next step.
"Just focus on work today and try and relax. We'll talk more when I get home. Okay?" I didn't want to push him to overdo the drinking that day, so I tried to alleviate his stress and pain by masking the situation with a fake smile and a hug.
"Promise me, we'll work this out?" he asked.
I don't lie. I sometimes cherry-coat the truth, but I will not lie. I wouldn't lie.
"I can't make that kind of promise, Keegan. Just like you can't promise me you'll stop drinking."
A tight-lipped smile stretched across his lips, and he kissed me on the cheek. "I understand. We'll talk more tonight."
"Sounds good," I told him.
"I love you, Auggie," he said, leaving me to my shower.
I didn't respond.
He left this world, believing no one loved him.
No wonder he didn't want to stay.
"I can't live without you," he said. "He told me the truth, and I ignored it," I tell Chance.
"He made the decision," Chance replies.
The pain of remembering that morning wipes out the last of my remaining energy, and I fall asleep to the beeping sound of a heart monitor and the white noise of Chance's calm breaths.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chance
The detailsof what happened between August and Keegan are sporadic but enough to help me understand their story. August was his caretaker, and when she couldn’t do it anymore, he gave up on the only thing he was hanging onto.
Now, she must live with that demon.
