I Never Stopped

by Elizabeth Mitchell

  "It's a little muddy," Sarah said with a small chuckle. "But I think you'll find it illuminating."

  "What a great word!" the nurse cooed. "Two-dollars worth, at least!"

  The little girl turned and stared at the nurse. "Do you think you could leave me for a second?"

  "Um, uh, just for a second. I'll be right here at the nurse's station.”

  Fidgeting with the pens sticking out of her shirt pocket, she left.

  Sloane smiled at the new Molly expectantly. "You found it?"

  "I did. And look!" She spun her chair around with a large smile on her face. "She is in remission now–thanks to me." Molly rubbed her bald head. "So hopefully, I will be here for a long time," Molly said laughing. "Francesca! It is so very wonderful to meet you, finally."

  "What?"

  "Sloane, you had finished telling her, right? I am not spoiling the reveal?” Molly, the stirrer of pots, asked. "Being alive again is tiring, do you not think?"

  Cecelia's head moved almost at the same time Sloane wanted it to when she nodded. "I told her most of it. Just waiting for it to sink in. But thanks for adding more thoughts in the mix," Sloane said sarcastically.

  "No problem. It should sink in after this," Molly said confidently and produced the small muddy box. "If you do not believe with this in your hand, then nothing will convince you." She blinked at Francesca.

  Sloane grabbed the box from Molly's frail hands. "Thank you."

  "Of course. After all, I owe you everything." Her hand reached up to her smooth head again.

  "Make sure we don't lose touch. We still have a lot to talk about, you and me. It'll be harder now, but we can do it." Sloane hoped she made Cecelia's face stern. She already missed her blonde eyebrows.

  "What is happening?" Francesca whispered.

  "Molly, maybe you should stay. After all, without you, this wouldn't be possible."

  The nurse walked in and grabbed the handles of the chair. "Time's up, hon."

  "Guess you'll have to tell me about it later." Sarah winked.

  Seeing Molly as a different person wasn't strange, but Sloane worried about who she'd picked. Hopefully, she wouldn't hop if Sarah ended up in the hospital again.

  "What is that?" Francesca asked, cutting through the image of Molly destroying more lives.

  "This is your engagement ring. The night of the accident, I had big plans for us. It's hard to explain how I got it back, but it was always meant to be yours." Sloane pushed back sweaty, foreign black hair and shakily said, "Sorry I can't be on one knee, but… Francesca Lucrezia Nuccio, from the moment I met you, you stole my heart. I knew you'd blow me away, but I couldn't imagine I'd be so lucky as to have you in my life for six years. You are my everything, my one, my only. I don't want to live even one day without you. So I, Susan Allereta Sloane, beg of you, please spend the rest of your life with me. Francesca, my forever, my love, will you marry me?"

  Silence.

  She'd stunned Francesca speechless. It was too much, too soon. Of course.

  Sloane had thought things would be the same for Francesca as they were for her, but they were in different places. They'd lived in different worlds for too long.

  Francesca sat beside Sloane on the bed. They both shook as Sloane handed the ring to Francesca. What she said next would determine whether all of Sloane's efforts were in vain.

  Cheeks going round, Francesca smiled as tears streamed down her freckled face. Resting her forehead on Sloane's, Francesca pressed a kiss on Sloane's new lips.

  "I never stopped loving you."

  Acknowledgments

  Stories are created by a collection of characters in moments strung together in an order that, hopefully, makes sense.

  Some people and moments have impacted my story in such a profound way that I couldn’t thank them enough. A good portion of them are unworthy of being named or mentioned, as being impacted isn’t always a positive thing.

  There are those who’ve shaped my story for the better, though. Tessa Garrett has helped me edit every novel I've ever written–even ones I’ve deleted. I can’t count how many hours we’ve fought over a single comma and the ramifications of keeping it despite it breaking a grammar rule. Thank you for showing me the errors of my ways; I'm better for it.

  Sir Scott David Phillips of The Monologue Bombs deserves a huge thank you. Not only did his lyrics appear in this novel, they helped me write it.

  Writing dates, as I call them, keep me honest. Without them, I may not have written for weeks. I want to thank my writing partners and friends. They kept me from rewriting every chapter a thousand times, were teachers and sounding boards when I felt lost, and made sure I took breaks–because, sanity.

  A beautiful soul named Alexis saw me through grief hangover after grief hangover. More importantly, she guided me through realizations of losses. I owe her more than a thank you for her support in my writing and my life.

  Jennifer, my sister, is encouraging and loving. Her support and love have helped me grow in life and writing. I'd laugh less often if she weren't willing to FaceTime at all hours of the day.

  Other than giving me life, my parents have always been my cheerleaders. At the ripe old age of 21, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome caught up to me. As my body betrayed me, they supported me–emotionally and financially–in my decision to switch my focus and energy to writing. I wouldn’t be where I am without their love.

  My grandmother, who can’t read pretty much anything I write because it distresses her, has never faltered in her belief in me. It’s unfounded and beautiful.

  Finally, Bubee, the incredible, sexy, sarcastic, love of my life. We’ve lived in a 450 sq. foot apartment and are still happily married; I think that says it all. In case it doesn’t, I’ll let you in on a not-so-secret fact: I often wonder how I ever smiled before Wes loved me.

  Thank you, my love, for being there in every situation–be they perfect or absolutely abysmal. You help me flourish in every sense of the word. I love you.

  oh, and if I missed anyone, I’m ever-so-sorry. I wondered if anyone would read this in the first place. But know, that if we’ve ever had a conversation–ever–it’s possible you should be thanked.

  So, thank you, strangers, acquaintances, friends, exes. I’d have fewer stories without you.

  About the Author

  Elizabeth Mitchell is an author with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome drawn to the raw and fantastical. She’s happily married to Wes, owned by two Littles, and living in Vancouver, WA. I Never Stopped is her debut novel.

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  She has two literary thrillers and an urban fantasy forthcoming. Keep a lookout by adding yourself to her mailing list!

  To see what she sees, visit her Pinterest Boards! She has one for each novel. I Never Stopped’s is here. Elizabeth also believes in the power of sound. With her books also comes the playlists she wrote them to. You can find those through her website. And if you want to keep up to date with her and her inspirations, follow her on social media–she’s a big fan of Instagram.