thought about it for a minute. “Actually, you know what’s weird? I haven’t dreamt about Kristen at all lately. Not inthe hospital, or here at home. The only thing I’ve dreamt about so far is Vincent. Violence. And death.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he said.
“Dreaming about violence and death?”
“No. I meant not dreaming about Kristen.”
“Why would that be a good thing?”
“Because aren’t the dreams you have about her sad? They seem that way.”
“Yeah. But I don’t know …” I shrugged. “It’s a way to keep her close to me, you know? I’d rather have sad dreams about her than not have any dreams at all. At least that way I still get to see her.” Then I shuddered. “Although, I’d like to
not
have the dream about her dying again. That one I’ll gladly skip.”
Caspian nodded sympathetically.
“What was it like when you died?” I said suddenly. “I know you told me what happened right after your car crash, but did you feel any pain?”
He sat up straighter and glanced down at his hands. “Abbey, I—”
“Please? Please tell me? I want to know if … if I’m ready.”
“You can’t
be
ready,” he said with an exasperated look on his face. “No one is.”
“I know, but I can try to prepare. Right? At least be moreready than the average person who doesn’t know it’s coming.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked. “Set your affairs in order? Write notes to your family?”
“Maybe I am,” I said. “So?”
“So don’t you think that might freak them out? If you start giving them ‘Dear Mom and Dad, I won’t be alive much longer’ letters, they might think you’re going crazy.”
“It’s not like I’m going to give it to them
now
. Just, you know … Get them ready. For after.”
He shook his head. “It’s not healthy, Abbey.”
“Why? What’s so unhealthy about it? How different is it from someone knowing that they have a terminal illness and getting everything ready for when they pass on?”
“It’s just different. You’re not sick,” he said.
“But I am. I’m terminal.”
“No. You’re not. You have no idea when—”
“But I do!” I exploded. “I
do
know, Caspian. I know I’m going to die soon, and there’s nothing that I can do to stop that. So why can’t you just support me on this?”
“I can’t,” he said quietly. “I just can’t.” He let out a shaky breath. “If the situation were reversed, you’d feel the same way.”
“
I
would support you in anything you wanted to do. I’d help you do it.”
“Why?” he asked suddenly.
His question threw me off guard. “Because I love you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want us to be together.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to have the one person who makes everything around you come to life start talking about her death,” he said. “It’s just …” He spread his hands and looked at them. “I don’t even know how to describe it. But to know that you’re talking about being like me, like
this
…” He clenched a hand into a fist. “How can I want that for you? You’re beauty and light and color and smell, and I’m darkness and ash and shadows and death. Cold and alone.”
“But you won’t
be
alone. Don’t you see that? We’ll be together. And then it won’t matter about everything else, as long as we’re together.”
“Is that the only reason you want to be with me, Abbey? So I’m not alone? It’s different. Different from anything you can ever imagine. What if it’s not what you think it is? What if you come to regret losing the chance you had at life? The chance to be surrounded by the people you love?”
“
You’re
the person I love,” I insisted. “All I need.”
“What about your shop? What about Abbey’s Hollow? The opportunities you’ll miss to go to Paris and study with the artists there. Or London, to go on shopping trips to buy new bottlesor perfume supplies. Are you so ready to give up that
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he said.
“Dreaming about violence and death?”
“No. I meant not dreaming about Kristen.”
“Why would that be a good thing?”
“Because aren’t the dreams you have about her sad? They seem that way.”
“Yeah. But I don’t know …” I shrugged. “It’s a way to keep her close to me, you know? I’d rather have sad dreams about her than not have any dreams at all. At least that way I still get to see her.” Then I shuddered. “Although, I’d like to
not
have the dream about her dying again. That one I’ll gladly skip.”
Caspian nodded sympathetically.
“What was it like when you died?” I said suddenly. “I know you told me what happened right after your car crash, but did you feel any pain?”
He sat up straighter and glanced down at his hands. “Abbey, I—”
“Please? Please tell me? I want to know if … if I’m ready.”
“You can’t
be
ready,” he said with an exasperated look on his face. “No one is.”
“I know, but I can try to prepare. Right? At least be moreready than the average person who doesn’t know it’s coming.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked. “Set your affairs in order? Write notes to your family?”
“Maybe I am,” I said. “So?”
“So don’t you think that might freak them out? If you start giving them ‘Dear Mom and Dad, I won’t be alive much longer’ letters, they might think you’re going crazy.”
“It’s not like I’m going to give it to them
now
. Just, you know … Get them ready. For after.”
He shook his head. “It’s not healthy, Abbey.”
“Why? What’s so unhealthy about it? How different is it from someone knowing that they have a terminal illness and getting everything ready for when they pass on?”
“It’s just different. You’re not sick,” he said.
“But I am. I’m terminal.”
“No. You’re not. You have no idea when—”
“But I do!” I exploded. “I
do
know, Caspian. I know I’m going to die soon, and there’s nothing that I can do to stop that. So why can’t you just support me on this?”
“I can’t,” he said quietly. “I just can’t.” He let out a shaky breath. “If the situation were reversed, you’d feel the same way.”
“
I
would support you in anything you wanted to do. I’d help you do it.”
“Why?” he asked suddenly.
His question threw me off guard. “Because I love you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want us to be together.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to have the one person who makes everything around you come to life start talking about her death,” he said. “It’s just …” He spread his hands and looked at them. “I don’t even know how to describe it. But to know that you’re talking about being like me, like
this
…” He clenched a hand into a fist. “How can I want that for you? You’re beauty and light and color and smell, and I’m darkness and ash and shadows and death. Cold and alone.”
“But you won’t
be
alone. Don’t you see that? We’ll be together. And then it won’t matter about everything else, as long as we’re together.”
“Is that the only reason you want to be with me, Abbey? So I’m not alone? It’s different. Different from anything you can ever imagine. What if it’s not what you think it is? What if you come to regret losing the chance you had at life? The chance to be surrounded by the people you love?”
“
You’re
the person I love,” I insisted. “All I need.”
“What about your shop? What about Abbey’s Hollow? The opportunities you’ll miss to go to Paris and study with the artists there. Or London, to go on shopping trips to buy new bottlesor perfume supplies. Are you so ready to give up that
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