In the Unlikely Event

by L.J. Shen

Weakness, hate, desire, How I’d love to light your soul on fire, In a room full of pretty lost girls and bad broken boys, You will find me, dip me in ice, and drown all the white noise, I want to see the world through your eyes and fall in love, But most of all, I am frightened you don’t really exist, Because then my fairytale has no beauty, Just a sad, lonely beast.

“New Jersey. Of course. Known for its processed meat, goldfinch, and Jon Bon Jovi, although I won’t hold the latter against you.”

“What can I say? I’m a charitable soul, too. Mind you, everything I know about New Jersey I learned from a little show called Jersey Shore. Mam is a goner for the one who’s got enough gel on his hair to fill up a pool.”

“That’s the one.” He snaps his fingers. “Although, I’m sure you and your family are nothing like him and his orange mates.”

“Have you not seen any decent romance movies, Princess Aurora from New Jersey? All the best meet-cutes in cinematic history involve the woman driving the man somewhere. When Harry Met Sally, Singin’ in the Rain, Thelma and Louise…”

“You look like the more beautiful stepsister in a Disney movie. The underdog who gets the prince at the end. The one who wasn’t born with the title, but earned it,” he explains.

“Oh, she is blushing.” He raises a fist in the air through the window. “All is not lost. I still have a chance.”

I take her face in my hands, move her away so she can look me in the eye. “Newsflash, Rory: you’re already there. There wasn’t one moment in time, from the second we met, that you weren’t mine. Just like I’ve always been yours.”

“Aurora Belle Jenkins,” I growl, “one day, you’ll be the death of me. But what a fecking way to go.”

Because I have terminal cancer, you see. Stage fucking billion cancer, which has spread to every single part of my body.

And here I thought I was just permanently hungover, never expecting to find out that while I was partying, my body was eating itself to death.

It is all fun and games until the fat lady—in this case my doctor—sings the sad news to me, and I choose to go out with a bang, not like a faded version of my old self—a sad, bony, shadow of myself, lying in a hos...

“I love you, Princess Aurora Belle Jenkins Doherty of New Jersey, you little heart slayer.”

“But then I also think, when you lose someone when they’re young and in their prime, it reminds you how fragile life truly is. It reminds you that you were not put on this Earth to work. You weren’t put on this Earth to do the dishes or pay your taxes on time or, I don’t know, count your weekly alcohol units or goddamn calories. We’re not here to win awards or make money. What flashes through your mind in that fraction of a moment, when you realize this is it for you, that you’re about to die, is the kiss you stole from your first crush under the old oak tree. The cartwheels on the beach on a perfectly sunny day with your brothers. The first time your niece said your name, and you knew you were a goner—you were going to give her every single thing she asked for, including but not limited to your limbs. Losing someone when they’re young is like surviving a fatal disease. Life gifts you a second chance of not fecking it up. It can either dim you or make you shine brighter. It’s a great reminder that what we have is rare and fleeting and not to be carelessly wasted. You want to honor Richards’ legacy? Live.”

“I mean it. You’re not alone. You won’t have to drop out of uni or anything. I’ll take care of him all the time, give him everything I have.”

Can I believe her? After she fecked me when I was half-dead and a quarter functioning? Making me take her virginity, and coming back to ride my cock, always begging me not to wear a condom?

Calling Mam, manipulating her and Bridget to pressure me into this marriage, convincing Mam and Elaine to move in together?

Sean turns around, looking at me. He is pale as a ghost. “This wouldn’t have happened if she’d dated me. You hurt her, Mal. You did this. It’s all your fault.”

“Tamsin! Yes! That’s the girl I was looking

for.” I produce my planner from my backpack, opening to a random page and nodding vehemently. “Yup. There you are. Princess Tamsin of Tolka. Everybody is talking about you back in our kingdom. They say you are the sweetest, kindest princess in all of Ireland.”

It’s called past because it passed! We have a present, Rory. A future.”

“With you, I chased harder.”

I didn’t want to hurt you. I still loved you too much, regardless of how you felt about me. I loved you when you hated me, I loved you when I thought you were indifferent to me, and I loved you when you were on the fence about me. But when I realized you loved me back? All bets were off. The world kept spinning. Days went by. Things changed—other than one thing, my love for you.”

That’s what they don’t tell you in the movies. Bad guys have hearts, too.

“Funny thing is, she was my priority, too,” I answer evenly.

“No, but I can blame you for naturally assuming I’m as bad as Glen.”

I kiss the side of my wife’s neck. “Tamsin only has two grandmas. Don’t you reckon she deserves three?”

“Oh, but I did.” She rushes into my words, sliding her hands from my cheeks to my arms, squeezing. “I wanted you to know you deserved to be loved. You are the most precious thing in my world, Aurora, even if you don’t always feel that way. I wanted you to think he adored you, but I had to keep you far enough away from him so you’d never know the truth.”

I wish I could tell you it was about Kathleen. But the truth is, this wonderful song about love and heartbreak and addiction and angst and all the things that make people’s hearts move is about…alcohol.

“You’re the four seasons, Rory. And I promise to be your shelter in the winter. To bask in you in the summer. To crash into love with you in spring like it’s the first time we’ve met. And when you fall? I promise to always pick you up.”

Tamsin cringes and waves the bag with her brand new boots in the air. She says the words I never thought I’d hear her say. “Ma, Da, get a room!” In this moment, I’m not burning. Not ice cold. Just…perfectly warm.

“Just remember, you’ll always be my little girl, even when you’re eighty,” Rory says. Tamsin looks up and smiles at her. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Making a family out of Dad and me. Giving me the only thing I truly wanted. Filling a void that couldn’t possibly be filled by anyone but you.”

But one day, when he was teaching me how to play guitar, he turned around and said, “You know something, Mally-boy? I think one day you’ll be my son-in-law.”

“No, not Kathleen. I’m talking about Aurora.”

“Love is bigger than this planet, son. Much, much bigger.”