They were childhood friends, best friends. He'd known her since the first day of second grade. But they were just friends. He knew he shouldn't have these kinds of dreams. Not about her. He'd rather one about a teacher, or any other friend, hell he'd rather one about one of his guy friends. Dominique was supposed to be off limits, not subject to his sex dreams. What was worse was it was a really nice dream. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't feel weird for enjoying it.
Logan tried his hardest to avoid her, but that was a little more difficult than he'd expected as they had nearly every class together. He avoided Dominique's gaze as long as he could, forcing himself to concentrate on what the teacher was saying. The only thing he learned was that he was so much farther behind on class work than he thought he was. Once the bell signaling the end of the first hour rang, he packed up his books as fast as he could, making sure he was the first out of the door. He cursed under his breath as he realized he needed to make a stop at his locker. There was no way he was going to be able to ignore her if she went there to talk to him. He sighed and made his way there anyway, figuring that he could just make up some lie. Maybe he'd say that his parents were getting divorced. No, that wouldn't work. She knew me when Mum left. He shook his head, trying not to be too worried. Chances are that she wouldn't even be there.
Logan opened his locker quickly, trying to get in and out as fast as he could. He hung his head at the feeling of someone tapping his shoulder. He turned slowly, letting out a small, nervous laugh at the sight of Dominique. "Hi, Dominique." He murmured before looking back into his locker.
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Logan honestly didn't know whose bed he woke up in. Some strange girl he no doubt met at the pub the night before. It wasn't until he'd put on all of his clothes and started the long walk back home did the full realization of what happened hit him. He'd gone out to drink because Dominique was mad at him and he slept with someone. He'd cheated on his fiancee. He couldn't tell her, no. He wouldn't. He'd torture himself enough, he didn't need that look of hurt, of disappointment, of betrayal from Dominique. He'd just say that he slept in the pub because he was too drunk to walk back home. It was this time and this one time only he'd ever let himself slip like this. Never again would he ever allow himself to even look at another girl.Â
He changed directions quickly, the more he thought about it the worse he felt. Sure, he might not tell her what he'd done, but that didn't mean he couldn't apologize. Not in his mind anyway. He bought a whole dozen roses from a few people on the street, almost instantly regretting it as he tried not to sneeze on it the whole way home.
He paused on the doorstep of their house before unlocking the door and stepping in slowly, hoping not to wake up Dominique if she was still asleep. He shut the door behind him a little louder than he'd meant to before moving to the sitting room and plopping down on the couch. He let his head fall back on the sofa and closed his eyes as he waited for Dominique to come in and yell at him for not coming home, holding the flowers tightly.
"You have been my best friend, mentor, playmate, confidant and my greatest challenge. But most importantly, you are the love of my life and you make me happier than I could ever imagine and more loved than I ever thought possible.... You have made me a better person, as our love for one another is reflected in the way I live my life. So I am truly blessed to be a part of your life, which as of today becomes our life together."
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Logan knew that he really shouldn't act on his impulses, especially not when he was drunk, but after an hour or so in a bar with a sonogram picture in his hand and a quick trip to the liquor store he just couldn't help himself and he had said that he would paint a room in their house with the primary colors. He didn't want to end up not honoring his word.
With empty bottles littering the floor, another few full bottles of beer sat next to him, all of the furniture pushed to one half of the room, and a third of one wall painted red, Logan sat against the small bit of still unpainted wall. He was trying to muster the motivation to finish painting the walls before Dominique got back from work. He looked up at the sound of the front door opened. He shook his head to himself. She wasn't supposed to get home until later.Â
He finished off the bottle he had in his hand and set it on the ground before grabbing another and popped it open before he saw Dominique walk in. "M'sorry." He mumbled. "M'gonna finish it in a bit." He pointed to the walls, taking another drink. "I'll put all the stuff back promise." Logan couldn't look up to see the expression on her face. He was afraid she'd be angry or sad and he didn't think he'd be able take either of the looks that could be on her face.
He'd had a plan. He hated to admit it, but a white picket fence sounded nice sometimes. He was going to get married, have a kid or two, grow old, meet his grandchildren, and sit out by that white fence and drink tea with his wife. He wanted to be the one to walk his future daughter down the isle, to be the one who hosted family get togethers. He had a plan, not a very organized plan, but none of his plans were very organized and it was a plan none the less. He'd even gotten on the track to checking things off the list, proposing to Dominique and trying to start planning the wedding. He was almost there, but life loved to throw curveballs.
Stage one: Denial
Logan felt like his ears were ringing. Tears had been building up in his eyes for a little more than half an hour. They’d said just a few words to him, and he immediately felt like he couldn’t breath. Acute Lymphoid Leukemia is what they had said it was. He had a few months left, a year if he was lucky. Logan had never been lucky.
He had almost dazed of as he made his way home. What was he going to tell Dominique? He didn't know. He didn't want to. He didn't want to go through that. To see her face when he told her. Plus, with a little treatment he'd be fine. There was no reason to worry. He wasn't going to die. No way. He was positive that he'd come out to be alright.
"Do you want kids Dominique?"
"Erm..I suppose. Why?"
"Lets make a baby, right now."Â
"What? Why? What's wrong honey?"
"Nothing I just...if something ever happens to me I want you to have something to remember me by." and a small smile up to the woman he loved
Stage two: Anger
Logan shouted. He couldn't believe the doctor. He wanted to scream until his voice left him. He'd gone back to ask about any kind of treatment a week after learning about his malady. No treatments developed as of that time. He just couldn't understand why there would be no way to heal. He pushed the man in front of him wearing a white coat away and stormed away.Â
Of course. He just had to get the illness that he couldn't possible get healed from. Logan slammed through the doors to the parking garage of the hospital. He went straight for his car and yanked open the drivers side door. He was furious. He wasn't ever going to tell anyone about this. He wasn't ever coming back to the hospital either. If they couldn't help him, he didn't need him.Â
"Dominique!"
"Logan? Are you drunk?"
"Maybe...a bit. Are you pregnant yet?"
"No, I'm not...what's wrong honey?"
"Nothing. Why aren't you pregnant?"
"Because it takes time."
"Maybe I don't have any fucking time!" Â and a slam of the door as he stormed away from the woman he loved
Stage three: Bargaining
No more than four months later, Logan was back at the hospital, nearly on his knees as he begged the doctor who had told him that there was no treatment. There had to be. He pleaded, his eyebrows pushed together. Tears were starting to fill his eyes again.Â
He didn't know what he was asking for. Please let there be a treatment, a cure, a way around this, tell me you're lying, anything. He'd do anything, he'd pay anything. He didn't want to die. He had a plan after all.
"Logan, where were you today?"
"Hospital. I was at the hospital."
"Why were you there?"
"Just a check up is all. Not much." and a fake grin at the woman he loved
Stage four: Depression
Logan hadn't gotten out of bed in days. It'd been two months since he'd pleaded with the doctor. He saw no reason to get up anymore. If he was going to die. He still hadn't told Dominique. She was worried about him and he could tell. She'd ask him to get up, ask him what was wrong, talk to him. He didn't reply. He just lay there.  He didn't want to move. It had started slowly, then all at once. First he was just sad, a bit more quiet than normal. Then he'd stop talking for periods of time. Now this. He'd turned into a silent  man in bed, not saying a word and not able to find motivation to move.
He felt like he was under water and couldn't swim. Every time he neared the surface, something dragged him back under. He couldn't cry anymore, couldn't plead. He half wanted to just feel nothing anymore. Nothing would be less painful than this.
"Logan honey, please get out of bed. You have to eat."
"Sweatheart, I made some tea. Do you want some?"
"What's wrong?"
"I love you." and only silence for the woman he loved
Stage five: AcceptanceÂ
"I'm dying."Â
"What?"
"I've got a month or two left now."
"Logan what are you talking about?"
"Cancer. Some kind of cancer and I learned months ago."
"W-what?"
"I am so sorry."
"You..you're dying?"
"I'm sorry. I am so so sorry Dominique."
"I..I don't...no!"
Tears spill out of his eyes as he looks to the ground. He can't bear the look on her face. It was just as bad as he expected six months ago.
"You can't be dy--" She can't even finish her sentence. Her heart is breaking and his heart is beating faster than normal, almost like it's trying to make up for all the years it should be beating but won't be allowed to.
Logan knew he shouldn’t be watching the tape, but he couldn’t resist. An unmarked tape that he found in his best friends room, this was totally an invasion of privacy but he pressed play anyway. His jaw nearly dropped to the ground when the tape started. A scantily clad Dominique stepped away from the camera, obviously having been the one who pressed record. He didn’t realize what the tape was to be until Dominique sat on her bed next to another girl who’s name he didn’t know. The longer the video played, the tighter his trousers felt and he squirmed in his seat glancing up at his door. His eyes got wide at the sight of Dominique. He swallowed and crossed his legs. “Hi." He said weakly before clearing his throat. “How long have you been standing there?" He asked, eyebrows pushed together. He forgot that the tape was still playing until one of the two girls on the screen spoke. Logan reached for the remote and turned the Telly off as quickly as he could. “Hi." He repeated softly.
