Drawn to Life (21 page)

Chapter 52

Samuel—So That Was It?

Graz, July 2012

I was very glad Mia had decided to return to her family. I wouldn’t have been able to deal with her not wanting to go back. Her parents must have been worried to death, not hearing a word for three weeks. And it seemed she had a great relationship with them. But now, finally, she was back.

“Samuel?” We were cuddling in her bed. I shifted so we were facing each other. “How long do you want to stay?” She pushed some strands of hair from my forehead.

“As long as you want me to, sweetie.”

A smile curved at her lips. “As long as I want you to?”

“As long as you want me to,” I repeated. “I’ve already told you that I will always be here for you.”

Mia snuggled closer and murmured against my chest, “You’re my boyfriend. I still can’t believe it.”

I raised her head with my index finger under her chin. “What is there not to believe?”

She rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows. “You’ve seen how I can be, Samuel. I mean, three weeks ago I wouldn’t even let you touch me, and now this.” She beamed. “You’ve conquered my heart. You’ve made me feel again.”

I shook my head. “No, Mia. It wasn’t me. It was you. I was just there to accompany you. You did it all yourself.” With my fingertip, I drew small circles on the bare skin of her back. She was wearing only a bra and panties. I could see her flesh goose bump. How I loved it when my touch made her shiver.

“I did it. I made it,” she repeated my words, rolled toward me again, and began caressing my chest, then kissed her way across it and up to my mouth. She nibbled my lower lip. I tightened my grip around her. Then she licked the crease between my lips. My hands wandered down her spine until I cupped the flesh of her nicely shaped butt.

A soft moan escaped her. She climbed on top of me, her hips soon undulating. Hard now, I clasped her tighter. She seemed to like the strength of my grip. I could tell by the way she pressed against me. “If you go on like this”—I panted—“it will be over soon.”

She wore a broad grin and shifted until she was kneeling next to me. I started to speak, but she shushed me with an index finger over my lips. Her eyes shone brightly. She opened her bra and then removed her panties. Hardly able to stand it, I sat up and pulled her close. I enjoyed the warmth of her bare flesh. She softly caressed my skin and kissed every inch of my body. Then she slid one hand around my penis and gently moved her fist up and down. After awhile, unable to take much more, I rolled us over so she was now the one lying on her back. Softly, I stroked her inner thighs. I drew a nipple into my mouth. She moaned, and I released it only so I could kiss a path down her torso to her core. I let my tongue tend to her sensitive flesh. She arched against my touch. Her hands tangled in my hair. Then she pulled me up and devoured my mouth. I positioned myself between her legs and tenderly penetrated her. Then there was only our panting, and the mad beating of our hearts. We grew oblivious, lost in each other, and then we came. Shudders still gripping me, I finally relaxed against her. As her hot breath singed my skin, I smoothed her hair.

“I love to feel your heart beat so wildly,” she murmured, and as I slid off her, she let her lips glide across my chest.

“My heart beats wildly because of you, Mia. It lives through you. I live through you.” Mia seemed to focus all her attention on me. “I felt so empty. Now you are here, and I’m filled with life.” I caressed her cheek. “I’m so happy I found you,” I whispered. This was more than love. This was life itself.

“I know what you mean.” Mia wrapped her arms tightly around me, then she drew back and captured my gaze. “I feel the same.” Her eyes grew wet, but no tears escaped. She seemed to be holding them in. “I live through you, Samuel. And so much more.”

“I know, Mia.” My eyelids drooped. It had been a long day, and I felt so awed, so replete lying here with her.

“I wish I had met you sooner,” I heard her say. This time, I knew I heard her correctly.

The sun woke me, shining directly in my face. Mia was sleeping, her back to me. I let my fingers run down her spine. She didn’t react. The trip home must have exhausted her. I moved closer, wanting to hug her, but drew back alarmed when I noticed her body was cool under my touch. Something was wrong.

“Mia? Mia, can you hear me?”

I shook her shoulder, and she tumbled onto her back. Panic coursed through me. With trembling fingers, I felt for her pulse. It was far too weak. What was happening? No, no . . . This must be a dream. I shook her again, but she still didn’t respond. I jumped out of bed. I needed my phone, now. Where was it? In my backpack. Frantically, I grabbed it up, searched through it, and finally found the instrument and punched some numbers.

Everything was taking too long! It must have rung ten times before someone answered.

“I need help!” I blurted. “My girlfriend, she’s hardly breathing. Her pulse is too slow.”

“Calm down. Did she take anything?” the dispatcher asked.

“No, no, she didn’t. I have no idea what’s going on. Please send an ambulance. Now!”

“We need your address.”

“I—I only know the name of the street but not the number.” I gave it to them. As for the number, I didn’t want to leave Mia alone to run down and look. Nobody else was home. Her parents had said they both had to leave for work early today, and her sister was at her internship.

“Stay calm. Do you know approximately where the house is located?”

“Yes . . . near the end of the street. A brown front door. No fence. Next to an empty lot,” I stammered.

“We’ll be right there. Stay with your girlfriend.”

Quickly, I jumped into my clothes and covered Mia with a sheet.

“Everything will be fine. The ambulance is coming any minute,” I said over and over again. I touched her cheeks. They were cold. She was cold. And she wouldn’t wake up.

The paramedics arrived promptly and pulled me away from Mia. “Please step to the side. You can meet us at the hospital.”

I didn’t want to leave her alone. “Let me come with you, please. I’m not from here, and I don’t have a car,” I begged. “Please.”

“OK,” one of the paramedics agreed. “Hurry up.”

It was chaos. They gave her artificial respiration, but her heartbeat apparently slowed even more. Then they began cardiac massage, relaying what they were doing into a radio, using terms I’d never heard and hadn’t ever wanted to hear. I only wanted my Mia back. She couldn’t die.

Chapter 52 ½

Mia—I’ll Just Run Away

Graz, June 2012

I was very nervous that day, knowing I would receive the results from my most recent checkup. After the previous exam, everything had looked good, but I always felt awkward meeting with Dr. Oberbichler. He had been my doctor since the beginning, but I didn’t like him. It wasn’t his fault—it was just that he reminded me of the day my life had shattered.

I knocked and entered his office. My knees were weak.

“Take a seat, Ms. Lang,” he said, indicating a chair across from his desk. “I’ll be with you in a minute. Just need to sign these papers . . .” When he finally looked up, I knew he had bad news. He was frowning, and his jaw was tense. He repeatedly clicked the end of his pen, which made me even more nervous. I picked my cuticle. It hurt, but I knew that what I was about to hear would hurt even more.

“This is the most difficult part of my job,” he began.

Wanting to deny what was coming, I shook my head. I knew it. I covered my mouth to suppress a sob.

“Listen to me.”

I just kept shaking my head. But I could hear damned well what he was saying.

“I am really sorry to tell you this, but unfortunately, your therapy hasn’t been entirely successful. A new tumor has begun to grow, and—”

“No, don’t tell me where,” I interrupted. “I don’t want to know.” My words sounded faint, even to me.

“Ms. Lang,” he sighed and straightened in his chair. “We can get rid of this with another operation and a new round of chemo.”

I shook my head. My heart was beating loud, the sound of it pounding in my ears. “How long?” I asked bleakly.

“Nobody talks about dying here. You can live—”

“How long?” I interrupted again, this time in a much sharper voice.

“If we don’t act, I can’t guarantee anything—days, weeks, months. The tumor must have grown fast, otherwise we would have discovered it during the previous exam. But it needs to be removed. It’s pressing against—”

I raised my right hand. “I told you I don’t want to know.” I moaned. I would not be able to endure going through everything all over again.

“Ms. Lang—”

“No,” I snapped. “No, Dr. Oberbichler. Do you have any idea how much I suffered? Do you know what I’ve been through? No, you don’t,” I hissed. “I don’t want to be like that again. Nauseated all the time. Nobody knows how to deal with me. I hate myself. I’m trying to accept what life remains for me, to make sense of everything that has happened. I had even begun to think that maybe, maybe, I might return to normalcy.” I lowered my voice. “But, no. No, it’s not meant to be. It was never meant to be. The only thing that’s meant is for me to vanish from this earth. You don’t get a second chance. I had mine, for one year. One more year to live.” I bit my lower lip and tasted the blood on my tongue. “If you can call this living. And now . . .”

Dr. Oberbichler looked at me intently before he continued. “It would give you even more time. The prognosis is very good, provided we act soon.”

I got up. “From now on, I will be in charge of my life. Not a tumor. And not you.” I headed for the door.

“This is not our last conversation, Mia. I won’t give up on you,” Dr. Oberbichler called after me. “Take some time to think about it. But I won’t give up on you.”

“But I do,” I whispered and walked out the room.

My gut feeling had been right. I’d just known things would not end well. I had to leave. I didn’t want to be a burden to my family again. I wanted them to remember me as Mia. As the Mia I had once been. Maybe even that wasn’t possible anymore, but at least they could remember me as someone with a future. Someone who was healed. I would not tell a soul.

That same day, I finally took Dr. Weiß’s advice to heart. He was right. I had to go away. I didn’t want to. I now hated change, and this trip would be nothing but change, day after day. In my old life, I’d loved tackling challenges. Not anymore. But I also knew I wouldn’t be able to hide my secret if I stayed. My mother would realize something was wrong. The only solution was to run off and embark on the “trip of my life” as soon as possible.

Chapter 53

Samuel—Nothing

Graz, July 2012

I’d been sitting in the bleak waiting room for more than an hour, my head buried in my hands, wondering what on earth had happened. Just the night before, everything had seemed OK.

Two doctors had been waiting when the ambulance pulled up in front of the hospital. They tore open the doors and yanked on the stretcher as the paramedics jumped out. The doctors busied themselves over Mia, feeling for her pulse. I was useless. Watching helplessly as Mia was rolled away from me, I remained inside. I’d never forget the sight of her lifeless body. The image was burned onto my retinas. She’d looked as if she were already dead.

No, no. This couldn’t be. They had to revive her. They had to. I couldn’t.

“I need to go with her,” I said, suddenly regaining some sense. I jumped down from the ambulance and started after her, but a paramedic grabbed my arm.

“You can’t go that way. Go through that door, to the waiting room.”

I stared at him. I couldn’t stay with her? At least wait outside the operating room or wherever they took her?

“Go to the waiting room,” he repeated. “The doctors know what they’re doing. Everything will be OK.”

I nodded and went where he’d pointed.

Not long after I took a seat in the waiting room, Mia’s parents rushed in. “What happened?” her mother asked. Her cheeks were smudged with black mascara from her tears.

I shook my head. “I have no idea. This morning when I woke up, she was just lying there, unconscious. She was hardly breathing.” I ran one hand through my hair and rubbed my face. Just the thought of it . . . I was about to cry.

“Oh my god, I am so glad you were there.” Irene hugged me, and I patted her back. “Who knows what would have happened . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence and burst into tears. Mia’s father neared and grasped his wife’s shoulder. She turned around and buried her face in his chest. Peter held her tight while guiding her to one of the chairs, then embraced her until her tears subsided. I felt so alone—Mia had been taken away from me.

After a long time, a young doctor entered. Peter looked up as she started toward them and jogged Irene’s shoulder to get Mia’s mother’s attention. The doctor sat down next to Peter.

“Are you Miss Lang’s parents?”

Both nodded, apparently beyond speech.

“I am Dr. Ramhofer,” she said. I moved to a chair that was closer to them. Peter was holding Irene’s hand, stroking the back with his thumb. The doctor’s expression revealed nothing. “Your daughter is unconscious. We are giving her artificial respiration.”

A sob escaped Mia’s mother.

The doctor squeezed her hand. “We are doing everything we can, Mrs. Lang. Is there any medical history we should know about?”

Mia’s father summarized what had occurred over the past twelve months.

The doctor nodded. “Thank you. I will contact the oncology department.” Then she stood. “We will keep you updated.” She left.

Irene wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck. He whispered something in her ear.

I ran after the doctor. “Dr. Ramhofer, please, wait a second.”

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I’m Ms. Lang’s boyfriend,” I said. “Was that the whole story? There must be more to it.”

The doctor just looked at me.

I lowered my voice and asked, “What’s really going on?” My despair must have been palpable.

But the doctor only smiled at me sadly and turned.

“Please,” I begged.

She paused. Waited. Hesitated. Then she shook her head, looked at the floor, and walked away.

This couldn’t be happening. My mouth was dry. It felt as if all the blood had rushed to my head. My heart was racing. No . . . no! I must be dreaming. The world that had opened up for me over the past several weeks was annihilated.

Mia had become the center of my life. She’d encouraged me to visit my mother’s grave. She’d made me come alive. She was the stronger one of us. She was my love.

Mia had to breathe.

Mia had to live.