Free Out of Reach by Missy Johnson

to have bad days. If it were me, every day would be bad. Give him some space, and he’ll come around.” Only he was running out of time.
    Anxiety began to consume me. Was it a coincidence that he was acting like this after finding out how I felt? Was he punishing her for my feelings?
    Andy, what the fuck are you doing?
    He thought that by pushing her away, he could spare her the pain. Only it was too late for that. What he was doing was only going to make things worse.
    “You take these out,” I said, handing her our lunch. “I’m just going to use the bathroom and I’ll bring out some drinks, okay?”
    I waited until she’d left and then headed to Andy’s room. He looked up when I entered without knocking.
    “What’s up?” He lay on the bed in his green flannel pajamas with the covers over the top of him. His eyes were heavy and dark, making his pasty, white skin look even paler.
    Fuck, he looks bad. I swallowed, forcing myself to focus on why I’d gone in there. “Emily,” I replied, crossing my arms. “I know what you’re doing. And all you’re going to end up doing is hurting her more.”
    Andy laughed. “Right. I forgot you’re the expert when it comes to my girlfriend.”
    What the hell did he mean by that? Was that was this was about?
    “I don’t care if you’re dying, man. You don’t get to punish her. She needs you. She needs this time with you. Don’t push her away.”
    “I’m not, for fuck’s sake.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Did she tell you I shat myself this morning? Or that she had to clean me up because Marta was out getting my medications? Or how my catheter leaked so the whole fucking bed stank of urine? I don’t want those to be the memories she’s left with.” Andy sighed, his face creasing in pain as he struggled to sit up.
    I didn’t know what to say. I was so caught up in protecting Em from feeling unwanted that my best friend going through his own private hell had somehow become an afterthought.
    “I didn’t know that,” I said quietly. I sat down in the worn, leather armchair, struggling to think of what to say. There was no winner in this conversation: he was dying, she was watching him die, and I was watching her watch him die. We were all suffering. How do you move past that?
    “Look, if I feel up to it I’ll get up later, okay?” he muttered. “But right now, I can’t be around anyone. But you need to be there for her, because she needs someone.”
    I nodded. “Andy?” He waited for me to continue. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you. And I’m sorry for how I feel. I just . . . you have to know I’ve never acted on it, because you’re like a brother to me.”
    “It’s okay, man. I’m not angry.” He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, a bitter laugh escaping his mouth. “I love you for being there for her. She’s going to need you when I’m gone.” He paused, his expression serious. “You know, I’m okay with dying. I’ve come to terms with that. It’s the thought of leaving her that I can’t stand.”
    I nodded, because I got it. I really did.

Chapter Thirteen
    Emily
    “What do you think happens when we die?” I turned to Seth, my eyes searching his. I didn’t want the truth; I wanted comfort. I wanted him to tell me everything was going to be okay.
    It was Monday afternoon, and we lay on the deck, staring out at the sea. The gray, overcast sky looked threatening as the waves crashed over the rocks, sending a foamy mess racing along the sandy bank. It was such a beautiful place, but at the same time the formation of the rocks and the way the water collided against them with angry fury was scary. Unpredictable. Kind of like how I was feeling.
    Seth breathed out, his face creased, his blue eyes clouding over as he thought about my question. I studied him for a moment. There were so many little details about him that I’d never noticed, like the way his jaw twitched when he was deep in thought, or the way the left