by Monica James
“When you weren’t looking,” I reply, not having the energy to go into detail.
“I told you how I felt.” His comment holds bite.
“And I told you I don’t give up,” I rebuke, just as stubbornly. “Just because I wasn’t talking about it, didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it. I can’t force you to live, but I wanted you to see the impact your decision would have on so many people. You’re a good man, Roman. The world needs you.”
“I should be furious at you, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference.”
I give him the time he needs to process this because I know it’s a lot.
“Be mad at me all you want, but don’t punish yourself. You know this is the end of the line for me. You know this is the right thing to do.”
He hisses, pouncing forward. “Don’t…don’t you say it. There is no right in this situation. There never will be.”
I avert my gaze, suddenly fearful that tonight won’t make a lick of difference. “Life isn’t fair; we both know that. But one of us has a chance at living. Live.” It’s a plea, my last appeal. The fight ebbs from my bones. “You can’t run away from life. I won’t let you.”
He exhales, interlacing his hands behind his neck. “How can I accept this? How can I deal with you…dying?” It’s the first time he’s said it. The first time he’s accepted this.
Everything begins to grow sluggish, but I push on. “By doing this, you’re honoring my life.”
He turns his cheek, pained. “You were supposed to live.”
“I have.”
“You’re twenty-five!” he cries, shaking his head. “Your life has only just begun.”
I’m so tired, so gravely tired. “My life started the day I met you…and it’ll live on in you.”
Roman’s chest shudders, holding back his tears. “I just…I want more time.”
His pleas are my undoing, and a string of sniffs escapes me. “I was given more time…more time to meet you. And it was enough because meeting you was timeless. This was my destiny all along. I don’t want to go…but I have to.”
Roman takes a moment, peering up into the star-filled sky. “I’m stealing yet another life.”
His guilt stabs at my very core. “No, Roman, you’re not.” I know he’s talking about Scarlett. “You told me you would have given her your heart if you could.” He lowers his chin, the moonlight reflecting his sadness. “Well, I feel the same. You are worthy of this life. You’re worth so much more.”
It takes him seconds to process what I said before he falls to his knees, defeated and overcome.
This was the final piece—me.
Placing my palm over his chest, I commit to memory this moment because it’s why I’m here. “Don’t break my heart,” I whisper, blinking past my tears. “Look after it. Take it. It’s yours. It belongs to you. It always has.”
His heart pounds beneath my hand. It gives me strength knowing that soon, my heart will beat for him. He closes his eyes, shaking his head, utterly broken.
“Lola,” he cries, crushing me in his arms. The moment he surrenders, I smile. He may not know it yet, but I know that I’ve won—we both have.
We stay hugging for minutes, Roman never wanting to let go. “I’m not making any promises. For the moment, I’m…undecided.”
“Undecided is better than hell to the fuck no.”
He chuckles at my choice of words.
“I’m still angry with you, but thank you for tonight. Seeing the way the world, the way you see me is just…indescribable. You never cease to amaze me.”
Things grow quiet.
“I didn’t tell you how beautiful you look. How beautiful you are,” he adds, kissing over my pulse. “Will you dance with me?”
Although I’m thankful for the change of pace, I pull back gently, my brows knitted. “Here?”
He nods, his poignant eyes hopeful.
“But there’s no music.”
“Let’s make our own,” he whispers, laying a gentle kiss against my lips, before standing and scooping me into his arms. I snuggle against him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He begins swaying to an invisible beat, but it’s the perfect tempo, the perfect song. He’s holding me tightly, carrying me as though I’m his most cherished prize. We dance through a soundtrack crafted especially for us. Roman never lets me go. I stay huddled against him, my final dance the best one of my life.
The full moon is our only beacon of light, and under the stars, I get lost in every single memory that led me here. Roman has given me so much to remember, and these memories will tell my story long after I’m gone. I collect each one and fold them deep inside my heart, so whenever Roman is lonesome, he can unlock each one, remembering the impact our love had on the world.
“Are you scared?” His voice floats across the still night, giving me comfort for what’s ahead.
“Not right now,” I reply, closing my eyes and burying my face into his neck.
“Why?” He continues swaying, the movement lulling me into a comfortable state.
“Because…you’re holding my hand.”
A pained breath escapes him. He’s biding his time. “I promise…I’ll never let go. No matter where you go…I’ll find you. I love you. So much.”
“I know,” I whisper, the darkness beginning to conquer the light. But I’m not scared. I have saved the man I love, so I am finally free. With shallow breath, my parting words are my final bow. “Lead with your heart…and you’ll find me. Always.”
There is no more pain or uncertainty. All that is left is love…
“Chase me!” The sparkle of a child’s carefree laughter reminds us of the simplicity to life. I sometimes forget what that feels like.
“Owen, go play with your sister!” Owen crosses his chubby arms across his chest, pouting. So stubborn, just like his father. He complies a second later, however, chasing after his younger sister.
The sun is balmy against my aged skin, but I lost the ability to stay warm long ago.
My weary body creaks as I lower myself to the rich soil, but I ignore the ache, the memories overriding any pain. This garden has provided me endless hours of comfort. Coming here is like coming home.
Strawberry Fields has never looked more beautiful. The sweet perfume of roses transports me back in time, and I close my eyes, revisiting my favorite memory of all.
“Lead with your heart…and you’ll find me. Always.”
And she was right. She always was.
We danced the night away with her tucked snugly in my arms. If I dig deep enough, I can almost taste, feel, smell her—I long to feel her just one more time. That miraculous evening was the last night we spent together.
After I took her home, we made love one final time. The next morning, she slipped into a deep coma, which she succumbed to three days later. Her dying wish was for me to take her heart, but the thought was too heinous to even comprehend.
I knew she would go when she was ready. Lola never did anything she didn’t want to do. So I sat with her, holding her hand. I promised never to let go, and I didn’t. Seeing the person you love more than life itself slip away before your eyes does something to you. I didn’t see the point in living if the person who made your life worth living was gone.
I tried to grapple with the reality that I would live once she was gone, thanks to her. But I didn’t want to be here without her. So with my mind made up, I waited, waited to be reunited with my one true love.
But in true Lola Van Allen fashion, she fought until the bitter end, speaking to me on the cusp of death. My mother knew my decision, and she didn’t push, but she said Lola wanted me to have something, hoping that I would make the right choice.
When she handed me Lola’s journal and Sadie’s necklace, I knew that even from beyond the grave, she wouldn’t let this go. That journal was my savior. It felt like Lola was reading me her words. A lost, scared woman wrote the first entry, but each page detailed her strength, her growth.
/> I laughed; I cried. I never felt more loved than I did when reading how I appeared through Lola’s eyes.
The last page I read on the very last day. I was holding off, knowing that whatever was scrawled upon that page had the ability to change my mind in a heartbeat…and it did.
I watched Lola’s life begin to fade away, and before it was too late, I opened the book, realizing the ending was only the beginning.
Who knew one simple word could change a person’s life forever. But in our case, that word was forever ours.
Live.
It may not have been poetic, but that one word changed my mind. I would do this for her. I would live in her honor, her heart becoming ours.
“Dad, are you all right?” My son’s voice brings me back to the present, reminding me that I stayed true to Lola’s words—I lived.
The transplant was a success. Her heart now drummed within my chest. Each strong beat was a reminder of everything I not only lost but also what I gained. I didn’t need a photograph to remember Lola because she gave me so much to remember.
My arthritic hand closes a fist over my heart—she’s within there—always.
Once I was well enough, I did everything I knew she’d want me to do. I lived.
I took a vacation with Teddy, and we went to the jazz festival in Birmingham, Alabama. She mentioned this to him when she was being her usual nosy self. I ran in the color vibe, honoring her with each step I took. Her face was on every billboard I could find. We raised over ten million dollars to research the disease which claimed her young life.
I stopped hiding behind my fears, speaking to people who were just like Lola and me. Camille helped any way she could; she was the master of speeches, after all. I never hid the fact that the woman I loved saved my life. I was determined for the world to know just who Lola Van Allen was.
My talks around the country gained the attention of a publishing house in New York. They offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse. Two years later, Lola’s beautiful face was on every bestselling list, worldwide. The story entailed her struggle and mine. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but knowing my Lola would never be forgotten was worth the pain.
Readers from across the globe wrote me, saying how much our story touched them. They would never forget Lola. My soul mate was forever immortalized.
The money I made funded medication trials and groundbreaking procedures to cure brain tumors and heart defects. I ran the biggest cancer research center in the US. Every person who participated in the trials was Lola. I visited them as not only a friend but as their doctor.
Lola has helped save so many lives. Her death was never in vain.
Years passed, and although I never forgot my love for her, I fell in love with someone I know she would approve of. At first, I felt like I was betraying Lola, but her journal, the one I kept tucked away in my bedside table, was proof she wanted me to move on.
I married a fellow doctor who had lost her partner to leukemia years ago. We were both broken, but somehow together, we fit. Her name was Ivy, and we had three wonderful children.
Once June passed, I was the official owner of Strawberry Fields. Ivy understood why I wanted to hold on to it, and we did. We continued my mother’s vision, opening the doors to anyone who needed this magical place as their sanctuary.
These walls have seen so much pain and sorrow, but they’ve also provided a haven for people just like Lola. And just like Scarlett. This place is for them—it’s for every single soul who found their way home.
“I’m fine, son. I’ll be in, in just a minute.” My eldest, Peter, is just like his mother. Forever caring and ensuring the well-being of others.
He hesitates, but when my grandson, Owen, and his twin sister, Olivia, demand ice cream, he knows he better comply.
Peter, Addison, and Lachlan are my children, all of whom I am so proud of. They work here at Strawberry Fields, as my tired body can no longer keep up. Ivy passed five years ago, so now, it’s just me.
I have my kids and grandkids, but they have their own lives to live, and I want them to. Everyone is deserving of this gift called life. Each beat of my heart is confirmation of that.
Opening my eyes, I peer upward, gazing upon the towering giant above me. I made her a promise, and I honor it every day. In life, Lola Van Allen stood out from a crowd…so it only seems fitting that she does the same in death.
A commanding yellow sunflower shoots into the heavens, soaring high above the roses it is planted among. My weathered hands, hands which miss her touch every day, fist the dirt around its roots, feeling the life source shoot through my veins.
This is in honor of her—of the woman whose heart gave me life, not only physically, but emotionally as well. I miss her so much. I was only half living until I met her, and even though I have lived the most extraordinary life thanks to her, I’m ready to see her again.
She will forever be young and beautiful, and I will always remember that girl. I will always remember the way she made me feel. And I want to feel that way again.
I will look back on this life with nothing but happiness, and that thought has my heart, our heart slowing down, finally allowing me to slip back into the past and become lost forever with her.
Laying my aged body against the soil, I wait for her to come. The sun peeks out from behind the yellow sunflower petals, suddenly warming my wintry frame.
“Lola?” I hardly recognize my voice anymore.
Lub-dub…
Lub-dub…
Lub…. dub…
Our heart sings for her, begging her to save me this one final time.
Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve the one picture I’ve allowed myself to keep. My shaky hands have memorized the folds, and over the years, I’ve had to handle this keepsake with care. It’s yellowed, aged, and faded, but it’s clearer than any other photo taken after it.
Opening it tenderly, I strain my poor eyesight to see two people who look like mere strangers, but my cherished memories of that day at the baseball game confirm that my old senile mind isn’t lost just yet. My eyes slip shut, a smile marked on my face.
I remember the softness of her skin, the tender touch of her lips. The rain pelted down around us, but she didn’t care. As long as we were together, the world could fall into place around us.
And it still can.
“Hello, Dr. Archibald.”
I’m suddenly transported back in time.
My eyes pop open, and I blink twice. I can see clearly. Waving my hand out in front of me, I gasp when the weathered planes are no longer visible. What’s going on?
Sitting upright, I’m surprised I can move without pain. But that surprise is quickly forgotten when I see who is standing feet away.
“Lola?”
When she smiles, my heart stills…I’ve come home.
“I missed you.” Her voice…it sings to my soul.
I can hardly believe it. This is surely a dream. “I…I missed you too.”
She looks exactly how I remember her, but when I take a closer look, she looks different—she looks healthy and alive. Sadie’s necklace sits around her neck.
When she drops to both knees, her signature fragrance assaults my senses, and memory upon memory collides into me. I don’t dare breathe when she reaches out and gently runs her fingers down my cheek. I can feel her. I smother my moan.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” My mind is ricocheting, unable to keep up.
She smirks that brazen smile I’ve missed so much. “Ready to live.”
My heart kick-starts again, strong, vibrant, and alive.
Placing my hand against her chest, a sense of peace surrounds me because her heart beats strongly too. It’s all I’ve ever wished since she left.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
And I am.
I don’t give her a chance to catch her breath as I smash my lips to hers, unable to wait a second longer. But where we’re going, we don’t need air�
�she’s the only air I breathe.
The moment we connect, everything falls into place, and the long lost years of missing her seem like mere minutes. Nothing else matters but this. She has always been my destiny, my forever and a day.
As we clutch on to each other, both crying happy tears, I realize that I tried so desperately to save her, but truth be told, in the end, she saved me.
And even now, in death, she’s saved me once again.
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My author family: Elle Kennedy and Vi Keeland—I love you both very much.
My ever-supporting parents. You guys are the best. I am who I am because of you. I love you. RIP Papa. Gone but never forgotten. You’re in my heart. Always.
My agent, Kimberly Brower from Brower Literary & Management. Thank you for your patience and thank you for being an amazing human being.
My editor, Jenny Sims. What can I say other than I LOVE YOU! Thank you for everything. You go above and beyond for me.
My proofreader—My Brother’s Editor, YOU ROCK!
Sommer Stein, you NAILED this cover! Thank you for being so patient and making the process so fun. I’m sorry for annoying you constantly.
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