Abbey's Road

"Abbey?" Zacky's shout cut through the air like a knife. The girl sitting on the bed, with her hands folded on her lap, looked nothing like the woman he remembered. This girl was pale and thin, with dark circles beneath her eyes. This couldn't be Abbey.

She smiled. "Hi, Zack," she whispered, and at that instant time seemed to stand still. The jade-eyed man crossed the room in three quick strides and took her into his arms, crushing her frail body to his chest. Abbey buried her face into the curve of his neck, gripping his shoulders tight as the sobs shook his body.

"I-I thought....I'd never...see you again," Zacky choked out. He leaned away, and Abbey wiped his tears away with her thumb, conjuring up a weak smile on his face. "You look sick, Abbey," he said suddenly, sounding worried.

Abbey looked away, frowning. "I am sick, Zacky," she told him.

"Hello, Abbey," the doctor greeted, closing the door with a smile. "What seems to be the problem today?"

"My stomach's been hurting very bad lately," Abbey explained. She pressed the heel of her hand into her upper abdomen in an attempt to dull the pain that lingered even now. "And it recently spread to my back." With a grimace, Abbey recalled the night she'd first noticed the pain in her back. It had kept her awake nearly all night, and thankfully Zacky was sweet enough to stay up with her.

The doctor jotted something down on his clipboard and took a seat near Abbey. The look in his eyes was worrying, and Abbey wrung her hands together. She hated hospitals, and the lingering suspicion that something was wrong with her did nothing to help this.

"The nurse's notes say you've lost weight," the doctor said. Abbey nodded, not sure why this mattered. She was still within a healthy weight range; Zacky still praised her curves when they laid together beneath the sheets. "And your eyes show signs of jaundice," he continued. "So I'd like to get you in for a CT scan to assess the problem."

"W-What do you think is wrong with me?" Abbey stuttered. Panic flared up in her chest, wrapping its wiry hands around her neck and making it hard to breathe.

"There may be something wrong with your liver," the doctor explained.

In another room, a nurse dressed in green scrubs handed Abbey a hospital gown and told her to put it on. She was led to a machine and given the instructions: lie still, don't breathe too deeply, or else the invisible eyes inside this monstrous machine might not see the evil that potentially lurked inside of her. Throughout the test, Abbey just wished that she had Zacky there to hold her hand.

When the results came back, both Abbey and the doctor were surprised. The problem was not with her liver, but her pancreas. "There appears to be a mass on your pancreas," the doctor explained further, pointing to a spot on the scan. Abbey knitted her eyebrows, struggling to understand the mess of black and gray that the doctor was showing her. "I'd like to get you in for a biopsy," the doctor continued. "This afternoon, preferably."

"I just need to make a phone call," Abbey gulped. The doctor nodded and stepped out of the room. As Abbey pulled her phone from her pocket, it started to ring, Zacky's name flashing on the screen. He'd been calling since she went in for the CT scan, but Abbey had been putting off answering him.

"It's been an hour," Zacky said when Abbey answered. He sounded slightly irritated.

"I know, I'm sorry," Abbey apologized. "Sue Ellen wanted to go shopping and you know how I am, I couldn't say no."

"So when will you be home?" he asked. "I was gonna cook us dinner and then I thought we could spend the evening on the couch watching movies or something. That's romantic, right?"

Abbey smiled reflexively. That's something Zacky was good at, making her smile. And she hoped more than anything that she would be able to leave the hospital with a mostly clean bill of health and spend the evening according to Zack's 'romantic' plans. "Another hour at least," she told him. "But if it'll be longer than that I'll call you."

"Okay, Zacky said. "Well, you and Sue Ellen have fun. I love you so much, Abbey."

"I love you too, Zacky," Abbey whispered. She hung up and slid the phone back into the pocket of her jeans as she exited the exam room. The doctor, who had been waiting for her in the hall, promptly led her to a third room where she was once again told to put on a hospital gown. A man in a lab coat came and explained to her the logistics of the procedure and the anesthetic she would be receiving: once she was asleep a surgeon would then insert a needle into her abdomen and extract a small piece of her pancreas, which would be sent off to the lab. Sometime after this, Abbey would finally find out what was plaguing her.

"Just count backward from ten and think of something nice," the portly nurse instructed, and as Abbey drifted off, she thought of Zacky.

Later, when Abbey was still woozy from the anesthesia, the doctor came to her with a manila folder in his hands and a look of worry on his face. "Mrs. Ketterling," he said, shutting the door behind him. Abbey perked up, emotions whirling through her as her stormy gray eyes bored into the doctor and the folder he held in his hands. She leaned forward, eager to hear the diagnosis. But nothing could have prepared her for the next words that fell from the doctor's mouth.

"It's cancer."

"You're lying," Abbey spit out immediately.

With a grim look on his wrinkled face, the doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid the biopsy showed the mass on your pancreas to be malignant," he explained. "Unfortunately, it's already metastasized, so surgery is not a treatment option. Of course, there's still the options of chemotherapy or radiation, but even then the five-year survival rate is only six percent."

"So I'm going to die," Abbey croaked.

"The life expectancy for metastatic pancreatic cancer is three to six months," the doctor said, and as her life collapsed around her all Abbey could think of was Zacky.

"Cancer?" Zacky wheezed. Abbey nodded. How could Abbey have cancer? She was so vibrant, so full of life. And so young. Cancer was the disease of old people, people who had lived their lives in full. Not beautiful young women who'd barely begun to live. Zacky turned away from the skeleton sitting on the bed. "How long?" he whispered. "How long until you're...gone?"

"Not long," Abbey whispered. She laid her hand on Zacky's shoulder and he let out a ragged sigh. More than anything Abbey wished that she could take away Zacky's pain; it was all her fault he felt this way, it was only right that Abbey should relieve him of his burden.

"You should've told me," Zacky said. His voice was hoarse and weak, and it was obvious that he was holding back tears. He turned back to Abbey, his green eyes sparkling with hurt and sadness so poignant it struck Abbey to the core of her soul. "I would've sat with you during your treatments. And...And I still would've thought you were beautiful even after you lost all your hair. And I would've--"

"There wouldn't have been a point, Zack!" Abbey yelled, cutting him off. His words were sweet, and Abbey knew that Zacky meant everything he'd said. But they wouldn't change anything. "Chemotherapy, radiation...it wouldn't have done anything. The cancer had already spread too far by the time I was diagnosed. The only thing they could've done for me was fix me up a nice bed and keep me comfortable while I died. So...so..."

"So you left me," Zacky croaked. He got to his feet and walked to the other side of the room. His hands quivered and Abbey knew he was dangerously close to a breakdown. "You hurt me so badly, Abbey. I thought I'd done something wrong, something to chase you away. And now I find out that you left just because you were sick. How could you, Abbey?" Zacky was yelling now, and it caused Abbey to cringe. "You put me through hell, all so you wouldn't have to die in a hospital. I should hate you right now."

"And I wouldn't blame you if you did," Abbey said. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks now, and she did nothing to stop them. "After everything I've done to you, I would deserve your hate. I wouldn't blame you either if you just...turned around and walked away from me."

"I would never do that, not after I went through so much to find you," Zacky whispered. He couldn't pretend the thought hadn't crossed his mind. He wanted Abbey to suffer the way he had; he wanted her to search vainly for a reprieve from the pain that to Zacky could only be found at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. He wanted Abbey to spend years regretting her choice to walk away from him. But now that she didn't have years, there was no force on Earth that could make Zacky leave Abbey now.

Abbey left the bed and went over to Zacky, wrapping her slender arms around his wide shoulders, shoulders that had always felt like a protective fortress whenever Abbey lay beneath him. She clung to her love, once again letting him bear her weight, her burden. "I'm sorry, Zack," Abbey mumbled. "I thought that by leaving I'd make things easier for you, but I was wrong."

"I'm just glad I have you now," Zacky said with a soft smile. Carefully, Zacky bent down and lifted Abbey from her feet. He marveled at how light she'd become. He carried her over to the bed and noticed how she trembled as she curled up against his body. Words were obsolete now, and so they lay together, savoring what they both knew would be their last bits of time together.

It was nearly midnight when Abbey started to stir in Zacky's arms. She whined and pressed herself close to the warmth of his body, hoping this would be enough to force the pain away. But the pain could not be thwarted; it climbed up her chest and clawed at her throat until her weak whimpers became shrill cries of agony.

"Zacky," she gasped, clutching at his shirt. Tears rolled down her cheeks, a byproduct of the torment pulsing through her body. "It...hurts."

"You're okay," Zacky assured her. He moved into a sitting position and pulled her into into his lap, cradling her like an infant. She squirmed in his arms, thrashing against the pain, and he held her tighter. "Shh," he soothed, caressing her cheek. "It's okay. You're okay, Abbey." But Abbey shook her head. She had already accepting what Zacky was adamantly denying: her body was finally shutting down, and she was actively dying.

"Zacky." She whispered his name this time, her voice weak from the screaming. "This is it."

Zacky shook his head wildly. "No," he whimpered.

"Yes," she countered. "We can't fight it any longer. I'm dying, Zack."

"No," he said again. He was crying now, and he clutched her tighter, pressing their foreheads together so that all Abbey could see were his jade-colored eyes. "You...You can't die, Abbey. I can't lose you. I've already lost Jimmy, I can't lose you, too. You've got to stay here with me so we can get married and...and have babies and grow old...y-you just can't leave me, Abbey."

"Zacky, listen," Abbey interrupted. She reached for his hand and interlaced their fingers. She felt like she should say something to comfort him, but she knew there was no use. No amount of words could grant her a reprieve. "There are a few things I need you to do for me."

"Anything," Zacky promised, nodding his head.

"The first thing you'll have to do is call an ambulance," Abbey instructed. "I'll already be dead, but it will be easier for you that way. Next, call my parents. They'll know how to go about getting my body back to California. I don't want to be buried, Zack."

"What, but why?" Zacky sputtered. It broke his hear beyond comprehension to lose Abbey, but the thought of not having a physical place to mourn her death - and celebrate her life - left Zacky with nothing solid to cling to.

Abbey cracked a weak grin. "I'm a free spirit, Zack," she said, as if this were the most obvious thing. "I don't want to be plopped in the dirt. I'll still have a headstone, of course," she added, squeezing his hand, and a minuscule amount of Zacky's hurt ebbed away. "I want to be cremated, and I want you, Matt, Johnny, and Brian to spread my ashes in that secret little spot we used to visit on the beach, overlooking those cliffs. We had so many good memories there. You remember, don't you, Zacky?"

"I do," he whispered. "And I'll make sure all of that gets done, just the way you want."

Abbey nodded, happy to hear that Zacky would take care of everything. Of course, she knew he would. "There's one more thing I need you to do for me, Zack," she said. The pain was beginning to fade, but as it did Abbey's vision began to grow black, and she knew she only had minutes left. Zacky nodded, eager to take on his love's final request. "Move on." Zacky's face showcased his shock and he shook his head. "You've got a long, happy life ahead of you. Don't spend it grieving over me. Find someone else. Marry her. Have kids. Live."

"But it won't be the same without you," Zacky cried.

In lieu of a response, Abbey simply kissed Zacky. She kissed him knowing that this was the last kiss they would ever share, and he kissed her back knowing that this was a memory he'd carry with him until the day he left this Earth. "No, it won't," she whisperer when they finally separated. "It'll be better. You'll be free to live without me holding you back."

Zacky crushed Abbey against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of Georgia peaches that always seemed to follow her around. "I love you, Abbey," he gritted out through his tears.

"I love you too, Zacky," she breathed.

Several silent minutes passed before Abbey finally slipped away. Zacky only noticed when he no longer felt her breath against his neck. And even all he could think to do was hold her even closer and cry.

Notes