Chapter Text
“You two weren’t supposed to know. None of you were.”
Still in all of their formal wear, Susannah and Laurel stand before the four of them seated on the couch in the living room back at the summer house. They had all left the ball in a hurry, whispers and scandalized glances trailing their path. Belly leans over from her spot beside Steven and sees Jeremiah silently seething, hands clenched in his lap. Conrad, on the other side of the couch, is focused on his mother.
“I didn’t mean to get Belly involved, it just happened.” He tells her, running a hand down his face. “And mom you were just—I could tell you were starting to get sick again. So tired all the time—and then I saw emails from Dr. Summers when your computer was open at home, and I—I knew.”
Belly looks up at Susannah, and she looks devastated. Wilting like a stale flower, heartbroken that her efforts to protect her children have failed.
“Connie, I should’ve known you knew. You should have told me.” Susannah’s voice falters. “We could have—I could have helped you deal with it—”
“Deal with it how?” Conrad shoots up from his spot, his voice suddenly raised. “Helped me come to terms with the fact that you were sick again and just accepting it? Sorry, Mom, maybe I didn’t want your particular help with that.”
“Well, then you should have at least told me!” Jeremiah yells, standing as well and escalating the entire conversation. Laurel rubs her fingers against her brows, frustrated. “I’m your fucking brother, she’s my mom, too! I had a right to know!” Jere shouts.
“I was doing it for you!” Conrad shoots back.
“Boys, sit down and stop fighting!” Laurel shouts at the both of them, the same way she has with their father in the past. They quickly obey, eyes to the floral carpet.
There’s a beat of silence, then Belly can hear Steven swallow.
“I think,” he begins, calmly. “I think Jeremiah—and I—are just trying to come to terms with…with…” He looks up at Susannah, his eyes glassy with tears. “Susannah, are you really sick again and not gonna do anything?”
His voice is quiet, disbelieving. It punches a hole through Belly’s chest. She places a hand atop his.
“I…” Susannah looks around at the kids, at Laurel even, whose strong facade is quickly deteriorating into a wet puddle of tears.
“I just can’t go through chemo again. And with this drug trial, the chances of recovery are so low, nonexistent really—” Laurel sobs. Susannah falters once more. “I can’t put myself through it.”
There’s a room-wide break of spirit, evident in heads dropping and small, quiet whimpers of despair.
But Belly won’t give up this easily. Not when she’s spent all summer with nothing else on her mind except trying to not lose people she loves.
“Which is why,” She goes through her phone and finds the document they had labored over for months, “Conrad and I have come up with all different options you can take.”
Belly stands and brings the phone over to Susannah, who looks at her with so much doubt. Belly takes the older woman’s hand and physically puts the phone in her hold. “We wanted to make sure we covered all of our bases before we showed you this,” Belly explains. She then shoots a glare at the boy who had said such vile things about her so publicly. “We wanted to make sure we had a fighting argument before we got everyone involved. So it didn’t seem hopeless.” She states, keeping her gaze on him.
Jeremiah’s jaw clenches. He looks away from her stare, shamefully.
Susannah doesn’t even scroll past the first page. “Guys, I’ve made up my mind. I can’t go through it again. I want to be me when I go, and that’s not gonna happen if—”
“No.” Belly’s voice reaches an urgency she didn’t know she had in her. It startles Susannah, shutting down the rest of her sentence.
“You will look into each and every one of these treatments. And you know what? You’ll also add the drug trial to the list! Because you are not allowed to give up, Susannah. You can’t and you won’t.”
“Belly…” She protests.
“No!” Belly walks over to the boys and gestures to them. “We are not letting you give up! Don’t you see? Look at us. We’re all a mess. We’re all a mess, and you’re still here, so can you even imagine how we’ll all be if you leave? Your sons won’t talk to each other. They need you. Steven and I need you.” She waves to Laurel. “Your best friend needs you, too. And yeah, maybe it’s selfish of us to want you to keep fighting, but I say it’s selfish of you to just be throwing in the towel when there’s still so much life left for you to see! Your children’s lives!”
“I agree, Mom,” Jere speaks up, his eyes red from crying. “You have to try.”
“You have to fight, Susannah, for us and for yourself. You have a life. You’re not done.”
Conrad’s voice is weak and shaky. “I need you mom.” He cries softly.
Susannah's lips open and close, unable to form that simple “okay” that everyone is hoping and praying for. And then, like a flicker of flame in the dark—
“Beck,” Laurel places a hand on her friend’s shoulder. The friend who is more like her sister, her family for all these years. “Please.”
Belly watches, and the time between words feels like an eternity. A limbo where all she can do is hope.
And hope.
And hope.
Susannah exhales a shaky breath. And if Belly blinked, she would miss the slight nod of Susannah’s head, and the whisper of, “Okay. Okay, I’ll try.”
A wish being granted. A prayer being answered.
It’s a wonderful thing.
Belly thinks the relief she feels from Susannah’s agreement is the same as the rush of a drug, though she really has no real experience to compare it to. What she does know, however, is that in the crash, as the information truly sinks into her bones, the exhaustion of the entire night catches up to her. She can see it in everyone as they finish their hugs and all start heading upstairs, eyes rimmed with red, no doubt to change out of their uncomfortable formal wear.
Tilting her head to crack the stiff joints in her neck, there’s a tap on her shoulder. When she turns, she’s face to face with the blonde-haired boy.
“Belly, I want to apologize—”
Her arm takes on a complete mind of its own when she slaps him right across the face.
Jere pauses for a moment, his head turned in the direction of the slap. Belly does, too. Frozen in place, she can’t believe she’s just slapped him. It probably stung him quite a bit because she did slap with her spiking arm, but he doesn’t flinch or show it. Instead, he nods with understanding as he wipes his mouth.
“The things you said about me were gross.” Belly states. “And disrespectful. And demeaning. And untrue.”
“I know.” He says hoarsely, with so much regret. “I’m so sorry, Belly.”
She stands idle there for a moment, letting his apology surround her and seep in. And as soon as it does, she’s up on her toes, throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him so tight.
“I’m so sorry about Susannah, Jere.” She says to him, hand pressing tight on the back of his head. “And I’m so sorry I wasn’t here enough for you this summer.”
“Thank you, Bells.” He whispers, hugging her back just as tight. They stay there a few seconds longer before Belly pulls away, kissing the spot on his cheek where she slapped before fully stepping away. Jeremiah nods once and turns away to go to the kitchen.
They have so much more to say to each other, but tonight has been reserved for relief and rest.
Belly showers, her beautiful dress reduced to a pile of satin on the floor that she eventually gathers up and slings over her desk chair as if it were a hoodie she had started to sweat in. She pats some moisturizer onto her face, then plops down onto her bed.
Her laptop is still sitting on her throw blanket from this morning. She reaches for it and flips it open.
The first thing she sees is the email, mindlessly (and stupidly) sent to the wrong brother. Not the first, but definitely a vital piece of the chain reaction that led to the absolute implosion that was this evening. Belly cringes, and closes the tab quickly. It’s then that she sees the dozens of tabs still open from numerous medical research websites. Looking at all those sterile logos and words, Belly realizes it the first time she sees it all and isn’t suddenly overwhelmed by the weight.
It’s not hers to bear anymore.
It’s on the doctors. It’s on the adults.
She begins on the right, clicking the little “x”, watching the pages disappear. Horrible side effects, high costs, survival rates, likelihoods of death, cancer, cancer, more cancer—she watches it all vanish away.
It feels like a beginning.
She clicks away that last tab with a sigh and shuts her laptop. She’s lighter now. Clearer.
Junior Mint stares at her from the head of her bed. His chilled, happy grin makes her smile just slightly, bringing to the surface the love and affection for the boy who had gifted it to her.
Conrad.
Her eyes can’t help but drift towards the door, where beyond, he is surely loosening the tie from his neck and running a hand over his exhausted face.
He had said he loved her.
All she’s ever wanted was for him to love her as she loved him. And that part of her feels like it’s bursting—glowing with joy. It believes in him and knows how easy it would be to fall into his arms and have her happily ever after.
But there’s this other thing lingering in her chest. Fear twisting inside of her, scared of getting hurt. Scared that he’ll slam the door in her face again.
You should never be fighting to keep your head above water when you love someone.
Conrad loves Belly, and she loves him. There’s no reason she should be fighting the current from ripping her under.
She decides it’s time to find out for herself whether he’ll help her stay afloat.
~*~
The three soft taps she makes on his door sound like booming raps compared to the stillness of the rest of the house. Belly cringes slightly at the noise, but looks around to find a still quiet hallway. Good, she hasn’t disturbed anyone. She can’t help but smooth out and straighten her giant T-shirt, and even though she was anticipating it, the door swinging open makes her jump.
Conrad’s got flannel pajama pants on and a plain gray T-shirt. He moves himself to the side, immediately letting her in. When she steps through the threshold, she’s hit with the smell of all his things and is singed with the memories she has in this room, falling asleep on his bed. Being held so close to his chest.
Conrad shuts the door softly and turns to her.
“Are you okay?” Is the first thing he asks.
Belly nods. “I should be asking you that.” She huffs.
His lip quirks up in that devilish way that makes her knees feel like jelly. “Yeah, well, beat you to it.”
Belly bites her bottom lip. “Have you spoken to Jeremiah at all?”
“No, but I saw him heading to the bathroom.” He rubs his knuckles with one hand. “Funny, there’s a red mark in the shape of a hand on his face—”
Belly flushes pink. “I didn’t mean to! At least not that hard—I was still mad, and it just happened—”
He laughs, deep in his chest. “I know, Bells. I’m just teasing. He deserved it.”
“I shouldn’t have.” She chides herself.
“You had every right.”
She musters a pursed-lip smile.
There’s a beat of silence.
He looks tired—but not the sad kind of tired that she’s seen all summer. Not the relentless exhaustion of prying his eyes open to stay awake to look at one more article. To read about one more trial. Of stressing and worrying.
It’s more of a relieved look. A boy finally able to rest after a long, long day.
“At the ball, you said that…” She swallows. “That you love me.” It’s more of a question than a recount of the past.
“I do.” He says without hesitation. “I love you.”
It sends a bolt of electricity through her. Her heart starts to pound, lips curling up of their own volition. “You love me.” Belly repeats.
“I love you,” Conrad assures. He takes a step towards her.
Belly takes one step back towards his bed, her mind snapping back, not letting her forget why she’s there. Answers. Always wanting answers from this boy. “And how am I supposed to know you really mean it now?” She forces herself to ask, though every part of her wishes she could simply believe him. That he never hurt her and she didn’t have this shard of distrust lodged in her heart.
His head shakes. “I’ve hurt you so much this summer, Belly. I know that. Hurting you has been the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. Seeing you in pain because I—” his voice breaks, but he swallows down his own pain. “I will never be able to take back what I’ve done and things that I’ve said. And I don’t expect you to forgive me anytime soon,” Conrad steps forward, grabbing her hands in both of his. “But I will spend the rest of my fucking life showing you how much I love you.”
Belly’s vision is suddenly blurry. Nothing Conrad’s saying is particularly sad, but maybe it’s because never in her life has she ever thought these kinds of words would be coming out of Conrad’s mouth. Especially not to her. It’s all so overwhelming.
Her mouth churns out the necessary words. The things she must say, and not the careless three words she wants to.
“What about ‘not being a brave enough man’ for me? Being terrified of losing me? You said it yourself, you can’t handle the fear of losing something you love. I won’t be around forever. Susannah may not be around forever. How is that any different now? How am I supposed to know you won’t push me away when things get hard?”
“Believe me, Belly, I’m still fucking terrified.” He says, exasperated. “And I’m sure that I’ll be terrified forever about losing you. But you’re right. My mom’s right. I can’t let that control me. It just ends up hurting the people I love.” He brings his hand up to her cheek, his thumb stroking gently.
Belly opens her mouth to respond—to say, “Okay, Conrad. I forgive you. I love you, too,” but nothing comes out. Her heart and her brain are at war. The warm roughness of his palm, that gleam in his eyes. It’s so easy to drown in it all right here, right now.
But Belly doesn’t want to feel like she’s fighting for air anymore.
She continues to stare up at him with nowhere to go.
He continues on. “My mom said…She said that if I let myself love it would be wonderful. And I know she says a lot of things, always trying to be philosophical, romantic. But this time, I don’t know why, but I believe her. I feel it in my gut.”
Belly’s eyes dart between his and his lips. “What does that feel like?” She asks, not really meaning to. “That gut feeling you have. The one that makes you forget all the things you’re scared of. Describe it to me.”
Conrad pauses. His eyes rake her face, his breath shaky. His brows furrowed. “It feels like…” He swallows. “It feels like I’m about to jump from a great height.”
Belly must be making a very confused face because he smiles softly and continues.
“It feels like I’m about to step off a goddamn cliff, but somehow—somehow—I just know there’s solid ground. Like no matter how big the fall, I’ll be on my feet at the end.”
She frowns. “So you think loving me will feel like plummeting to your death?”
He chuckles again, and she smiles at the sound through her confusion.
“No, no. It’s more like…It’s more like a leap. A leap of faith."
His words circuit up to her brain, and somewhere in there, a light goes off.
Belly feels it as it happens. That shard of distrust, of fear, slowly dislodging itself from her heart.
That desire to believe him. To forgive him, let herself love him. It’s all rooted in the same gut feeling. That voice digging into her soul telling her that this time it will all be different. That this time, it will be real. All that noise in her head. Belly thinks about being with him, and it all quiets down.
Loving him is just as terrifying as Conrad letting himself love her. If he can build that courage, maybe so can she.
She wants to take her leap of faith. She wants to be right by his side as she does it.
His grip on her face becomes firmer, and with so much determination and a hoarse voice, Conrad swears, “If you’ll let me, I’ll love you the way you’ve always deserved. I promise you that.”
Her vision flits between his glistening eyes. That crease in his eyebrows that hasn’t gone away since she’s been here. Belly’s lips rise to a smile, and all she can say, to the boy she’s loved every summer, and to the boy she hopes to love for the rest of her summers, is, “Okay, Conrad. I’ll let you love me.”
There’s a flash of his smile, and then his lips are on hers in an instant, hard and pressing. She can feel him grinning against her mouth as he snakes his arms around her. His fingers feel bruising on her back and neck. Her arms are trapped between them, and Belly lets herself be swept up by it all.
“I love you.” He says, pulling away from her for the smallest second before kissing her again. “I love you.
His kisses are eager, yearning. Making up for all the things he didn’t do. All the words spoken too late. He kisses her like he’s trying to kiss away every tear she’s ever shed over him. Every crack and fissure that’s ever formed in her heart. He holds her like she’s made of sand, bound to slip through his fingers. He doesn’t know that she’s clinging to this—to him—like there’s treacherous waters below.
“I love you,” he says, and the promise wraps around Belly like a warm blanket.
Belly barely registers falling back onto the bed. He’s over her and everywhere in an instant. Bombarding her senses with his hands and lips and weight. Her hands find their way to his back and she claws at him, wanting all of him.
“I love you, Belly” He pants before kissing down her face and neck. “I’ll always love you.”
One of his legs makes its way between hers. Knowingly or not, he presses it up against her. That sense that makes her feel warm and dizzy comes alive, and she squirms, reaching for more.
A noise must come out of her because a hand reaches up to her face, gripping her jaw. A thumb closes up her lips. Her eyes flutter open, coming to from the haze.
His chest rises and falls quickly. “Sorry, I…” He shakes his head. “I think people are still awake,” he whispers, breathlessly. “We should…” His eyes are transfixed on her lips where his thumb still rests. “You should probably go to bed. We can talk more in the morning”
Belly can feel her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m not tired,” She breathes, then cranes her head up, lips reaching for his. “I don’t want to talk” she kisses the skin just next to his nose.“And I can be very…” she kisses the corner of his mouth. “Very…” kisses the other corner, “quiet.” She whispers.
Conrad’s eyes turn black.
For a fleeting second, she can see the self-control trying to take over, but its efforts are in vain. A low groan escapes his chest when he presses into her, fully, stealing her lips and body all over again. Belly pulls at his shirt, urging it off his back and over his head. Conrad complies, leaving her for a moment to take it off and throw it to the side. The heat of his skin against hers feels heavenly. She rakes her hand up his back and down his sides. It’s not enough. She needs more. Belly reaches for the hem of her own shirt and peels it off before Conrad has the right mind to protest. Belly doesn’t even register that she’s completely bare from the waist up for the first time in front of him. All she can think about is more skin. More touching. More.
But Conrad does. He’s completely breathless, shifting his weight back to his knees and to down at her, a writhing mess below him.
“Belly…” He has to catch his breath. “You’re beautiful.” He pants. “Beautiful.” Like he’s saying it to himself.
She doesn’t care very much. She only cares about reaching to pull him back down over her and going for the waistline of his pants. He’s lost in kissing her but has enough of a grip on reality to put a hand over hers.
“Wait, Belly—”
“I’m sorry, did you not want to?” She asks, half dazed. A tiny jab of hurt. She did take all her makeup off from the ball. Just stripped down to her barest face and body, she should have realized this may not off been the right time. “I should have asked—”
“No, no.” He says, very stern and serious. “I do, I definitely do.”
Belly brushes a lock of hair from his forehead. “Then what’s the problem?”
“I didn’t—This isn’t why I said all those things.” Conrad shakes his head. “This wasn’t what I was trying to do—”
Belly grabs his face with a hand and brings his mouth to hers. “I know,” she says against him before taking his face in her hands and looking right into his eyes. “I love you, Conrad. I want this. I want this with you.”
When she goes for his pants this time he lets her, even helps her. When his are off, he reaches for hers, working them down her waist, over her knees.
When she looks down at him, it’s like he’s kneeling at her altar.
There’s nothing between them now, and in whispers of are you sure’s, and is this okay?’s, Conrad pushes into her, kissing her lips, cheek, neck, chest—everywhere. Holding her gently, making sure she’s all right.
All his touch, his love. She feels the pain but it’s almost like it’s not there. Soon pain turns to pleasure, and Belly can’t remember a time before she knew what this is like.
He whispers love you’s like a prayer, after every kiss, every thrust.
Like she’s divine and he’s a man of worship. A God and her angel.
“I love you,” He tells her, pushing deep inside her. Sparks shooting through her, she stifles any noise with a kiss.
“I love you”
“I love you”
“I love you”
She basks in it like sunshine.
~*~
Belly savors her last bite of oatmeal, licking the spoon clean. Susannah had made it with all the toppings she loves—bananas, peanut butter, cinnamon, and strawberries—the works. She scrapes up the bowl and takes a last swig of the orange juice. A breeze from the open window picks up her hair, bringing in the smell of salt air and flowers from Susannah’s garden. The weather is hot, but not sweltering. Belly thinks she ought to jump into the ocean one more time before they have to go.
Usually, the last day in Cousin’s is the saddest. Filled with the anxiety of having to go back to school, the real world, but the past few days have felt like a summer dream. For the first time in a long time, she’s not stressed, worried, or heartbroken. She feels light. Free. Like summer in Cousins like it always has been.
Belly brings her bowl over to the sink where Susannah loads the dishwasher, wearing her periwinkle rubber gloves. She flashes Belly a warm smile.
“Susannah, I let me finish up.” Belly offers.
The older woman chuckles. “I’m not dead yet.” She jokes.
Belly bumps the woman’s hip and shakes her head. After some back and forth, Susannah finally lets Belly take over, making the excuse that she has to stop Laurel from trying to clean all the bathrooms without seeming so obvious about the cleaning service she’ll be calling in soon. She presses a kiss to the side of Belly’s head before her footsteps disappear somewhere into the house.
Belly hums, the clinking of the dishes like chimes for her song. Water splashes lightly from the utensils in her hand, peppering her face with cool kisses. They remind her of all the kisses from Conrad she’s had this past week.
Like the universe was peaking into her mind, Belly hears voices from outside. She looks out to find the two brothers plus her own returning with their surfboards. Jeremiah and Steven jostle around with each other. Conrad follows closely behind, laughing at and watching them with amusement. He looks up to her for a moment, a secret smile painted on his lips. Belly feels the blush on her cheeks and has to look back down to the sink.
A few moments later, they burst in from the back door.
Jere shoves Steven before acknowledging her. “Hey, Bells.”
“You guys are dripping water all over the floor!” She chides.
“We’ll clean it up, don’t worry,” Steven assures.
“No, you won’t.”
“Hey, Jere, wanna go play a video game or something?” Steven ignores her.
Belly, stuck with soaking wet hands, can’t crane her head enough for the boys to see her annoyed face. She yells at Steven and Jeremiah as they disappear into the family room. “Guys!”
“I’ll make sure they clean it up.” Says a voice approaching quickly behind her. Conrad’s hands rest on her waist, and he plants a soft hiss to her cheek.
“Conrad, what did I say about being discrete,” Belly scolds in a low voice, but giggles all the same.
“I am! They’re in a different room.” Conrad reasons.
Belly dries off her hands and starts the dishwasher. All done, she turns in Conrad’s arms and leans with her back against the counter.
“I just don’t want to complicate things right now and have everyone know.”
“You sound like me right now.” Conrad jokes.
She shoves his shoulder. “You know what I mean. I mean Jere. He just found out about your mom, I don’t want to hurt him with this right now either.”
Conrad leans in and kisses her lips gently. “He won’t be hurt.”
Belly takes his hands off her waist and holds them between them. “Um, hello. Do you not remember the whole getting punched in the face thing?”
Conrad laughs. “No, yes, I do remember that. But still, Belly, he won’t be. I talked to him about us.”
She goes wide-eyed. “You—you what?”
“I actually spoke to both of them.”
“You told Jeremiah and my brother?” She’s shocked. He’s started to be more honest with her, but opening up to everyone…well that, she did not expect.
“Yeah, while we were out on the water.”
He’s so casual about this. Too casual. “What did you say to them?”
“Well, I told them that we’re together now and that I love you.”
Belly’s mouth gapes open. She thinks back to the two of them just joking around as normal just moments ago. That’s how they act with this information? “What—what did they say?”
Conrad presses her knuckles to her lips. “Belly, they’re happy for us. Is that hard to believe?”
She nods her head. “Yes! I mean, just days ago, Jere was punching and cursing at you—and Steven got all mad when you literally smacked my ass at the volleyball game—”
“I explained to them that this is real. That I’m serious about this. And they could approve or be upset, but at the end of the day, I’m gonna be with you. No matter what.” Conrad brushes her cheek with his knuckles. “I told them I’m all in. And they were good with that. They were happy for us.”
Belly narrows her eyes, still a little suspicious. But the sincerity in his gaze makes her really believe it. Her heart swells with joy.
She lets Conrad lean in and kiss her. Right there, in the kitchen of the Cousin’s house. The same grounds where she ogled at him as a young girl.
When they part, Conrad asks, “You all packed up?”
“Mostly. I think I want to go out to the water one more time. We don’t leave for a few hours.”
Conrad grins. “Mind if I join?”
Belly feels like a little kid, hurtling towards the blue crystal water. The sun is warm, greeting them with a beaming smile that seems to say welcome home. The seagulls overhead cheer them onward with their caws, their flapping wings a challenge of speed and freedom. The crashing waves lure them in with a siren’s song. An inviting chatter. Conrad’s hand tightly holds onto hers. He is steady and strong by her side.
Their feet hit the ocean first, the coldness nipping just once and never again. The cool water assuaging her just too warm skin, soft sand cushioning every step. Deeper they venture, and closer they drift. Hands on waists and lips on skin. Her stomach is sore with laughter, her cheeks aching from the grinning. He teases her wet air, and she pokes fun at the sunburn forming on his shoulders. She escapes his hold just long enough to leap and dive head-first under the surface.
The water rushes past her face, the briny sea on her lips and tongue. It feels like a great cleansing, the salt drying up anything sorrowful or tragic in her life, and the ocean washing it away into its infinity. Her heart is scrubbed clean. Whole and new. A blank slate for new promises and vows that are sure to be kept.
A new wave crashes down on her back. She panics for a moment, afraid she’ll be swept right under.
Yes, the current is very strong, but Conrad takes ahold of her and brings her up for air.