It happened just the way I told Nick it would. First he started sleeping more, then drifting in and out of consciousness. Finally, he slipped into a coma. I stayed by his side, taking care of him the best I knew how. I kept him clean and comfortable. I made sure he wasn’t in pain. I watched for signs that death was approaching.
When his breathing became labored, I called all four of the guys and his sister, Angel. They’d been coming to see him in shifts almost every day anyway, but this time, they arrived all at once and gathered around his bed.
“He sounds awful,” Brian said, frowning as he looked down at Nick. “Is he supposed to be breathing like that?”
“There’s fluid accumulating in his lungs, from lying in bed so long.”
“Can’t you do something for him?” Angel pleaded, her eyes already filling with tears.
As torturous as it was listening to Nick wheeze, I had to shake my head. “All I can do at this point is keep him comfortable. He doesn’t want his life prolonged.”
“So you’re saying he wants to die?” AJ snapped, glaring at me. “What a bunch of bullshit.”
“He has a living will, AJ.” Kevin spoke calmly, his voice a low monotone. “He gave me power of attorney. Cary’s right; he wouldn’t want to be put on a ventilator or anything like that. If it’s his time, we have to let him go.”
AJ flopped down into a chair, looking mutinous. Slowly, the others sat down around him.
“We’re here, Nicky,” murmured Howie, reaching out to take Nick’s hand and squeeze it. “We’re all here.”
There was no response from Nick, but I hoped he could still hear Howie. I’d like to think he knew we were all there, that he left this world surrounded by love.
He was a fighter until the end, lingering longer than I’d expected him to. We sat with him, waiting, as the sun sank into the sea outside his bedroom window. The sky was heartbreakingly gorgeous that evening, shades of vivid orange and pink streaked with purple clouds. We left the balcony doors open to let in the fresh ocean breeze and watched as the sky darkened to indigo. And still, Nick held on.
His breathing was raspy and shallow, and every now and then, it would stop for a few seconds. We’d all hold our breath and watch his chest, wondering if that was it, and then, just when I’d get up to check, Nick would suddenly gasp and start breathing again. This happened several times before it stopped for good, and each time, I felt the same mixture of dread and relief.
After awhile, Kevin leaned forward, bringing his face down close to Nick’s, and quietly said, “If you’re ready, Nick… if it’s time… you can go.”
“What are you doing?!” Angel cried, her voice rising as fresh tears spurted into her eyes. “Why are you saying that to him?”
I looked between them, seeing the contrast between her youth and his wisdom as he answered, “Because… he may need permission to let go.”
“We don’t want him to suffer anymore,” Howie added, putting a hand on Angel’s knee. “He’s suffered enough. It’s time for him to be at peace.”
“It’s okay, Nick,” Kevin went on. “You can let go now.”
It wasn’t long before Nick’s breathing slowed down. I checked his pulse; it was weak and fluttering. His hand was cold and pale, the result of decreased circulation. I squeezed it in mine, wanting not only to warm it, but to let him know I was there.
Brian led us in a prayer. I closed my eyes and bowed my head, but kept my hand clenched around Nick’s, my fingertips pressed against the radial artery in his wrist, feeling the pulse there. When the prayer was over, I leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “I love you.”
It may have just been an involuntary spasm, but I swear I felt his hand contract around mine. Then he made a hoarse, gurgling sound as he drew in a breath, and I knew instinctively that it would be his last. We all watched his chest rise and then fall, as the air rattled out of his lungs. It did not rise again. His pulse fluttered feebly under my fingertips for a few more seconds before I lost it.
I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I silently stood up and slipped my stethoscope into my ears, sliding the bell under his covers to confirm what I already knew: Nick was gone. I nodded in answer to the unsaid question that hung in the air, then turned away, so they wouldn’t see the tears spill from my eyes.
Once everyone had processed what had just happened, they went their separate ways. Kevin volunteered to call the authorities and wandered off to find the right number. Howie said he’d take care of calling the Boys’ manager, Jenn, who could handle things on the professional end. Angel went into another room to call her family, and Brian went to call his. AJ walked straight out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette. And somehow, I was left alone in the bedroom with Nick. It felt surreal, like I was in the middle of a bad dream. It was hard to think clearly.
I knew there were two phone calls I would have to make myself, one to Dr. Subramanien and one to my dad. But I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone yet. I busied myself tending to Nick’s body, disconnecting the tubes that had delivered oxygen and pain medication and pushing the medical equipment aside, until it looked like he could just be sleeping. But no… something wasn’t right. Realizing what it was, I arranged his arms so that they were resting on his chest, crossed over each other, like he was hugging himself. Now it looked like he was asleep.
Looking down at him, I smiled… and then started to sob. I couldn’t keep up a professional charade with a loss so personal. Nick’s pain was gone, but mine was unbearable.
***
I couldn’t stand to sleep in Nick’s room that night, so I slept in the guest room instead. When I woke in the morning, I was struck with déjà vu. I remembered waking up in this same room the morning after meeting Nick for the first time… and finding out he was sick. I felt the same sense of dread I had then, as the events of the previous evening came back to me, only this time, it was a thousand percent worse.
Nick was dead. There was nothing I could do to help him now. The guys and his family were handling all the arrangements, so I kept myself busy by cleaning the condo until my dad called to say he’d caught an early flight to California.
I appreciated him coming out. It was a comfort to have him there for the memorial service. Afterwards, he helped me pack up all of my stuff in Nick’s condo, and we flew home together. I had no intention of going back to LA, back to my job. There were too many memories there. I just wanted my old life back.
But of course, it wasn’t that simple. I’d lost my apartment and my position at the nursing home. In a way, I’d lost myself. My life felt directionless and empty now. I had no choice but to move back in with my dad, until I got back on my feet. I think he was secretly thrilled to have me home, but I felt like I’d never be happy again.
For awhile, I was actually angry at Nick. How dare he call me up and lure me out to LA under false pretenses? How dare he promise me fame and then saddle me with his sick secret? How dare he let me fall in love with him and leave me in such pain? He’d completely turned my life upside down and left it in ruins, and it was up to me to pick up the pieces. I didn’t even know where to start.
Then, a few weeks after Nick’s death, I got a phone call from Howie. It was the first I’d heard from one of the guys since I left LA, and although it was nice to hear Howie’s voice, it hurt, too.
“How’ve you been?” he asked.
I answered honestly. “Not so good.”
“Me neither,” he admitted. “It’s been hard for all of us. AJ’s a mess; Rochelle caught him drinking, and now they’re thinking about postponing the wedding again, until he can get his act together. Brian’s back in Georgia, and Kevin’s been keeping his distance; I don’t think he wants to see us. Too many memories, you know?”
I knew. I couldn’t understand why he was telling me all of this; didn’t he realize he was making it even harder for me? But I just let him ramble on, until I heard him say, “I talked to Nick’s lawyer the other day.” I remembered Jordan Keller, whom I’d met in Nashville, the day Nick signed his advance directive. “He said he’s been trying to call you, but hasn’t been able to reach you.”
I frowned, remembering several random phone calls from Tennessee I’d ignored. I had assumed they were telemarketers. I didn’t know anyone in Tennessee anymore. “Why would he want to reach me?” I asked.
“To discuss Nick’s will. You’re named in it.”
I felt my eyebrows shoot way up on my forehead. Nick had included me in his will? I’d always been under the impression that I loved Nick more than he had loved me, and regardless of that love, we’d only known each other for about a year. All I could say was, “Really?”
“He left you the house in Tennessee.”
My mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? He willed me his house? Why would he do that??”
“He said it’s up to you what to do with it. You can sell it if you want, but I think he wanted you to keep it – so you’ll have a place to stay while you’re working at the camp.”
The camp. His last wish. His legacy. It hadn’t even crossed my mind since he’d died; I’d been too consumed with grief to give it a second thought. But now I remembered that first conversation we’d had about it, how passionate Nick had sounded as he’d laid out his plans, how determined he’d been that I was the perfect person to bring them to life.
“Is that… is that really happening, then?”
“I hope so. Nick left me the land for it. I just need to get Kevin back on board so we can start developing it. Can we count on you to help us?”
“I can always count on you, Cary,” I remembered Nick saying to me once. I closed my eyes, savoring the sound of his voice in my mind, and when I opened them, they were full of tears. My voice shook as I said, “Sure, Howie. You can count on me.”
I had a good cry when I got off the phone, but afterwards, I felt better. For the first time since Nick died, I felt a sense of purpose. My life had meaning and direction again. I had a place to live and a plan. I knew where I was going and what I was going to do: I would go to Tennessee, live in Nick’s house, and help start the camp, as he’d asked me to do.
Despite my grief and anger, I still loved Nick Carter, and I would honor his memory by making his dream a reality.
***
