“You don’t want to stop?” she asked. I could hear in her voice that this was a request. And I could see by the flicker of a smile on her lips that she knew I was onto her.
I shook my head. It calmed me. I wouldn’t be quitting anytime soon.
We sat in silence, until Poppy looked back at the rising dawn and asked, “Did you ever watch the sunrise in Oslo?”
I followed her gaze to the now-pink horizon. The stars were beginning to disappear in a fan of light.
“No.”
“Why not?” Poppy asked, shifting her body to face me.
I took another drag of my smoke and tipped my head back to exhale. I lowered my head and shrugged. “Never occurred to me.”
Poppy sighed and turned away once more. “What an opportunity wasted,” she said, waving her arm toward the sky. “I’ve never been out of the US, never seen a sunrise anywhere else, and there you were, in Norway, and you never rose early to watch the new day roll in.”
“Once you’ve seen one sunrise, you’ve seen them all,” I replied.
Poppy shook her head sadly. When she looked at me, it was in pity. It made my stomach turn. “That’s not true,” she argued. “Every day is different. The colors, the shades, the impact on your soul.” She sighed and said, “Every day is a gift, Rune. If I’ve learned anything from the last couple of years, it’s that.”
I was silent.
Poppy tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Like this wind. It’s cold because it’s early winter, and people run from it. They stay inside to keep warm. But I embrace it. I cherish the feeling of the wind on my face, the heat of the sun on my cheeks in the summer. I want to dance in the rain. I dream of lying in the snow, feeling its coldness in my bones.” She opened her eyes. The crest of the sun began to inch into the sky. “When I was getting treatment, when I was confined to my hospital bed, when I was in pain and going crazy from every aspect of my life, I would get the nurses to turn my bed to the window. The sunrise each day would calm me. It would restore my strength. It would fill me with hope.”
A trail of ash dropped onto the ground beside me. I realized that I hadn’t moved since she started talking. She faced me and said, “When I used to look out of that window, when I was missing you so much that it hurt worse than the chemo, I would stare at that breaking dawn and I would think of you. I would think of you watching the sunrise in Norway and it would bring me peace.”
I said nothing.
“Were you happy even once? Was there any part of the last two years where you weren’t sad or angry?”
The fire of anger that sat in my stomach flared to life. I shook my head. “No,” I replied as I flicked my dead smoke to the ground.
“Rune,” Poppy whispered. I saw the guilt in her eyes. “I thought you’d move on, eventually.” She lowered her eyes, but when she looked up again, she completely broke my heart. “I did it because we never thought I would last this long.” A weak, yet strangely powerful, smile graced her face. “I’ve been gifted more time. I’ve been gifted life,”—she breathed in deeply—“and now, to add to the miracles that keep coming my way, you’ve returned.”
I turned my head, unable to keep calm, unable to balance Poppy talking about her death so casually and my return so happily. I felt her move to sit beside me. Her sweet scent washed over me and I closed my eyes, breathing hard when I felt her arm press against mine.
Silence again hung between us, thickening the air. Then Poppy laid her hand over mine. I opened my eyes just as she pointed to the sun, now moving quickly, ushering in the new day. I laid my head back against the rough bark, watching a pink haze flood over the barren grove. My skin shivered with the cold. Poppy lifted the blanket next to her to lie over us both.
As soon as the thick woolen blanket had enveloped us in its warmth, her fingers threaded through mine, joining our hands. We watched the sun, until daylight fully arrived.
I felt the need to be honest. Pushing aside my pride, I confessed, “You hurt me.” My voice was coarse and low.
Poppy stiffened.
I didn’t look into her eyes, I couldn’t. Then I added, “You completely broke my heart.”
As the thick clouds cleared, the pink sky turned to blue. As the morning settled in, I felt Poppy move—she was wiping away a tear.
I winced, hating the fact that I had upset her. But she wanted to know why I was pissed 24/7. She wanted to know why I never watched a damn sunrise. She wanted to know why I had changed. That was the truth. And I was learning real fast that sometimes the truth was a bitch.
Poppy sniffed back a sob, and I lifted my arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. I expected her to resist, but instead she fell gently against my side. She let me hold her close.
I kept my attention on the sky, clenching my jaw as my eyes blurred with tears. I held them back.
“Rune,” Poppy said.
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Poppy raised her head and turned my face to hers, her hand on my cheek. “Of course it matters, Rune. I hurt you.” She swallowed her tears. “It was never my intention. I desperately wanted to save you.”