I cleared my throat and shook my head. “All done.”
“Any fun plans for the week?” She began repacking her bag.
I shook my head. “Nothing in particular. I spend most of my time writing, or being with my family. We take walks around the lake, which I love. Or go to new restaurants.”
“Ooh, I love eating out,” she exclaimed. “So much better than having to cook for myself.”
I grinned in agreement. “It’s pretty nice. Gets expensive though.”
She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Money isn’t something you should worry about at this point, you know?”
I knew what she meant, but sadly, that wasn’t how life worked. I wish I could call my bill collectors and say, hey I’m dying, so you know, freebie? Particularly my medical bills, which were still coming in at exorbitant rates. The balances stressed me out, and I tried not to think about it.
Thankfully, Kyle had always been over-prepared for the worst-case scenario so not only did we both have life insurance long before my diagnosis, but it was top of the line. When the terminal diagnosis had become official, a fat check had shown up a few days later that had helped us pay off the medical bills with plenty left over. It was really strange, being able to spend my own life insurance money, but I wasn’t about to complain.
“Morning, Malaika.” Speak of the devil. A shirtless Kyle walked past us in the dining room, stopping briefly to lean down and kiss the top of my head, before heading for the kitchen.
I couldn’t stop myself from gawking at his chiseled chest, his muscles expanding and contracting with each step. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, the long muscular lines on his lower abdomen pointing down reminding me of what we’d done the night before.
“Morning, Mr. Falls!” she replied, before turning her twinkling eyes to me and lowering her voice. “Good God, Tessa, you scored with that one.”
I blushed, following her gaze to the kitchen and biting my lip at the sight of Kyle’s rippled back while he poured a cup of coffee. “He’s really wonderful,” I agreed.
“And so freaking hot!” she whispered, gently smacking my upper arm.
I laughed loudly, quickly covering my open mouth with my hand.
“What’s so funny?” Kyle turned to look at us.
Malaika’s eyes went wide and she gave me a conspiratorial grin.
“Oh, nothing,” I assured him. “We were just talking about Malaika’s baby. She’s kicking.”
“She is,” Malaika quickly agreed, nodding her head and busying herself with writing notes in my file. “Gonna play soccer, this one.”
“Really?” He walked over, interested. “That’s so cool.”
“Can he feel?” I asked Malaika, not wanting to offer up her stomach without her permission.
She looked at me carefully for a second, as if wanting reassurance she wasn’t crossing a line. I didn’t mind one bit that she found my husband attractive, because, hello, he was freaking gorgeous. But I also knew Kyle only had eyes for me. There had never been a second in our entire relationship I’d ever doubted him and I had no plans to start now.
“Sure,” she agreed. “Here, give me your hand.”
He held his coffee in one hand, and gave her his other. She positioned it on the right side of her protruding baby bump this time, and his large hand nearly covered half of her.
“Shit!” Kyle suddenly gasped after we’d all been quiet for a moment, waiting for the baby’s move. “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant…wow!”
“She’s strong, huh?” Malaika’s face beamed with pride.
“Definitely,” he agreed. “There she goes again!”
Malaika rambled on about the baby and her pregnancy, but I was barely listening. Instead, I watched. The look on Kyle’s face made my entire body warm. There was such adoration in his eyes, and I knew in every fiber of my being Kyle was meant to be a father.
I wouldn’t be the one to give him that, but I wanted it for him so badly.
The picture of him standing over Malaika, his hand on her belly confirmed my thoughts. Kyle would find love again. He would remarry. He would have a family, and children, and love after me. Without me.
A peace settled over me as, for the first time, I realized I was okay with that. I’d gone through the motions before, telling him I wanted him to move on after me, but part of me had never really meant it. Part of me had wanted him mine forever…and to defy death and live another sixty years.
It was time to let go of that part.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Friday, August 22, 2014
* * *
“You won’t regret this, Tessa! I’m so excited!” Marley’s voice screeched through the phone.
“I’m sure I won’t,” I laughed, hoping that was true. “I’ll see you tonight.
“See you then!” She hung up, not saying goodbye. I was noticing a trend with her.
We’d agreed to meet for dinner to go over the article and let her ask her questions. I’d spent the last ten days thinking about it, even though I knew I was going to do it. I’d wanted to be sure, and make sure my family was comfortable first. In fact, I’d agreed to do it on one condition—my family was left out of it.
If I was going to thrust myself into the limelight, knowingly risking ridicule and anger, then that’s one thing, but my family hadn’t asked for this. The last thing I ever wanted was for them to have to deal with the consequences of my decision, despite that they’d given me their blessing.
“Where are you going?” my dad asked from behind the newspaper he was reading at the dining room table.
I sat on the chair next to him, my back aching from standing even for a few minutes. “Some local burger joint.”
“Need me to come with you? You can’t drive yourself.”
I shook my head. “No, Kyle is driving me.” Ever since my seizure, driving was out of the question. I’d always enjoyed driving—hell, I’d gone through the hassle of getting my Vermont driver’s license, which I’d only been able to use for a few days before I’d had my first seizure. “Hey, Dad?”
“Hmm,” he barely answered, his attention on the paper.
“Thank you for everything.”
He glanced over the paper’s edge, gave a small nod of his chin, then turned back to reading. “You got it, sunshine.”
I grinned, loving the ease between us, and the simplicity with which my dad approached life. Kyle and I had repaired things last night, both with words and affections. We’d bared our souls and mended everything fractured between us. Elly and I had talked it out, apologized, and reminded each other of what was important. But my dad? He didn’t need any of that. He was just…my dad, and there was nothing I could ever do to break our bond.
Beast pushed his nose against my leg, and I glanced under the table to see his tongue wagging as he stared at the porch door. I chuckled. “Looks like Beast needs to go out.”
I stood slowly, taking a moment to steady myself as a wave of dizziness rushed me. A shaky breath left me as my vision danced, the table moving left and right and slamming against the ceiling. I clutched the edge in hopes everything would slide back in place, but it went black instead.
“Tessa? You okay?” I heard my dad’s voice in my ear and the darkness pulled like the tide being urged back to sea. “Tessa?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed hard, blinking as the dining room returned to focus. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little dizzy.”
“Sit down,” he instructed. “I’ll take out Beast. Kyle! Come in here—quickly!”
My head pounded at the noise.
Kyle’s face rushed into my view, his eyes wide as he looked between my dad and me. “What? What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s going on.” I waved my hands as if to accentuate my point. “I was just a little dizzy.”
My dad didn’t agree. “That looked a lot more than dizzy. Kyle, take her to the couch in case she falls and hits her head. I’m going to let the dog out.”
Kyle
carefully helped me to my feet. “Babe, let’s go watch some television.”
“Oh, my goodness, guys, I’m not an invalid. I can walk by myself.” I tried to shake off my husband, but he was insistent.
“Babe, it’s been a month since your seizure. We’re just being cautious. They said it could happen again any time.”
I sighed. “I’m well aware of that, but this was different. It was more like the room went out of focus, it was moving when I wasn’t, and then everything went black.”
I sat on the couch and took the seat next to me, pulling my legs across his lap. “Vision issues is one of the symptoms,” he reminded me.
Frustration at my own body poured through me. “It’s August. There should be more time.”
His lips formed a tight line. “There should be.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Monday, September 1, 2014
* * *
“What in the ever-loving hell?” A barrage of pink, red, and white streamed past my eyes. I batted the unknown objects away and Beast jumped around at my feet, trying to save me from the unknown flying objects attack.
When the strange shower finally stopped, I blinked and opened my eyes again. A heap of rose petals in every shade of red, pink, and white was lying in front of my bedroom door. Actually, they trailed all the way down the hallway toward the stairs.
“Beast, stop it!” I admonished when he buried his face in the pile, growling and tossing petals left and right.
The rose-murdering puppy looked at me with feigned innocence, petals sticking out of his mouth every which way. I scooped him up and cleared his mouth, carrying him down the stairs with me.
“Kyle?” I called out when I reached the bottom.
He had to be the one behind this. My sister had gone boating on Lake Champlain with my dad today and I was sure they weren’t back yet.
“Out here!” His voice echoed from the yard.
I shuffled onto the porch, my nap barely doing anything to relieve my constant exhaustion. At the very least, the rest had seemed to pause the fifteen mini-hammers pounding on the back of my eye socket.
My jaw fell open as I took in the scene in front of me. The trail of rose petals had stopped at the door, but the porch was decorated with paper pink hearts, pink streamers, red roses in red vases, and tall white candles. In the center was a table covered in a dark red tablecloth with a beautifully decorated centerpiece of roses.
Kyle turned to face me, complete in a three-piece suit that made him look powerful and, impossibly, even more handsome. He held a single long-stemmed rose in his hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”
“What? What is all of this?” I could practically hear my own smile as I put Beast down and walked to my husband. “It’s September.”
“Nope.” His green eyes twinkled mischievously. “It’s February fourteenth, and you are my Valentine.” He handed me the rose, which I sniffed slowly, holding it in front of my mouth to hide my smile.
“Hmmm,” I hummed. “What if I don’t want to be your Valentine?”
Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me against his chest and dipped me sideways, like I weighed nothing—which at this point wasn’t that far of a stretch. Then his lips were on mine and he kissed me so intensely, I was floating. My hands cupped his jaw, his lips against mine, kissing him back with everything in me.
When he finally righted me, he flashed me a knowing look. “Would you be my Valentine now?”
“You’re very convincing,” I conceded without much of a fight.
He laced his fingers with mine, leading me to my chair. “Perfect, because I’ve made a romantic dinner for my Valentine.”
“You made it? What do you know how to cook?” I quizzed, never knowing him to cook before. “Or did you order takeout and put it on our plates?”
Kyle laughed. “That counts as making it, Tessa.”
“Oh, sure.” My words dripped with sarcasm, but he knew I was teasing. The effort he was going through for me had my emotions on overdrive—sarcasm was the safest defense.
“Don’t worry. This is certified Kyle Falls cooking, straight from our kitchen.” He opened a bottle of red wine and poured me a glass.
I sipped it, relishing the taste of my favorite Malbec. I didn’t drink often due to my medications, but I wasn’t about to deny myself anything anymore. If I wanted a glass of wine, I’m having the entire damn glass. Maybe the bottle.
“Mmm,” I hummed my enjoyment, the blend of flavors passing over my tongue. I’d lost my sense of taste during treatment, but luckily, it had returned, although not as strong.
“I’ll be right back with our food,” he told me, heading inside.
I took the opportunity to open a card sitting next to my place setting. My name was scrawled on the front in Kyle’s famously illegible handwriting that had taken me years to learn. I let my fingers trace his ink lightly, smiling at the thought of him penning my name and wondering how much time he’d have left to do that.
The front of the card had a picture of a small puppy with a surprising resemblance to Beast, and said, “This isn’t just puppy love…” I opened the card, and the sentence finished saying “This is forever love” over a picture of an older dog wearing comically geriatric glasses. It was both funny and loving—everything us—and a lump swelled in my throat.
“Ready to be amazed?” Kyle returned with a dish in each hand, both piled high with food. Steam lifted from each, and the smell of meat and potatoes quickly wafted over me.
“I’m already amazed,” I choked out, trying to keep the tears at bay while reading Kyle’s inscription in the card.
* * *
Dear Tessa,
We may not have another Valentine’s Day together, but we’ll have tonight. That’s all we need. The best years of my life will always be the years I had everything I ever dreamed of—the years I had you.
I love you with everything.
Kyle
* * *
“Babe, you’re crying.” Kyle put the plates down then grabbed a napkin. He knelt next to me—which with his height, brought him to my eye level—and gently wiped my cheeks.
I’d done my best to keep them at bay, but it was a losing battle from the start. “Happy tears, I promise.”
“You know what will make you happier?”
I shook my head, putting the card on the table.
“My food.” He motioned toward my plate, and for the first time, I really looked at what he’d made. Sliced roast beef topped with gravy sat next to a huge pile of mashed potatoes, a gleaming wedge of butter on top, and a small stack of dark green beans that radiated delectability.
“Kyle, this smells delicious,” I raved, my stomach growling. “I can’t believe you made all this!”
“And I washed the dishes already,” he boasted, taking my hand from across the table. “Plus, I’ll do these as soon as we’ve eaten.” He gestured to the plates in front of us.
That made me laugh. Hard. Tears were streaking down my face for an entirely new reason. On our first Valentine’s Day together, Kyle had cooked dinner for me as well, but had destroyed my kitchen in the process. He used every single piece of cutlery, bowls, plates, and cups I owned, including every pot and pan.
To this day, I don’t understand how that’s even possible because he only made spaghetti.
I hadn’t even thought about the dishes since we’d ended up hopping straight into bed after that dinner. When we woke up the next morning, I realized he’d already gone to work and left the dishes from last night for me to clean up. All of them. Piled high in my sink. There wasn’t even a clean mug left for me to have coffee!
I’d been so mad I almost dumped him then and there.
Instead, I’d left it there and waited for him to get home, then started a huge fight and made him clean it up. I still brought it up here and there, just to bug him.
“It’s not that funny,” he said, though he began laughing with me.
“Oh, it’s funny,�
�� I choked out between gasps of air. “It’s perfect. So perfect.” We’d come full circle—he’d grown from that immature young guy, to a responsible, wonderful grown man in our years together.
“I’m doing it right this time, especially since it’s…” He spoke quieter this time, his laughter dropping off in a way only possible when it was covering tears. “Our last Valentine’s Day.”
“It’s still September,” I reminded him, suddenly nervous and fidgeting.
“I grew up with you.” He ignored my tangent and I loved how he never let my nerves pull him out of the moment. He wanted to reminisce, and I wanted to let him—despite how painful I knew it would be. “When I met you, Tessa, I was an immature kid…and kind of a jerk. Everything was about being a U.S. Marine, and no one’s feelings or thoughts mattered but my own.”
I smiled at the reminder. He hadn’t been that bad, but there was a transition period between bachelor to my committed and loving husband.
“I’d never met anyone who cared enough to make me grow up. Not until you. And you didn’t even make me. You just knew who you were and what you wanted, and you expected the same from those you let into your life.”
I squeezed his hand. “You’ve always been a great man, Kyle.”
“Maybe… but I was incomplete. I had zero understanding of how wonderful life could be just by waking up next to the woman you love every morning. And I love you,” He paused briefly, a strain in his voice. “And with you, I’m complete.”
“Kyle—” I sighed, tears prickling my eyes.
“What am I going to do, Tessa?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “When you’re gone? I’ll be missing everything that made me complete, that made me happy, that made me… me.”
I pushed to my feet and stepped around the table, sitting directly on his lap with my arms around his neck. Our foreheads rested against one another and I kissed the tip of his nose. He cried, and I cried, but we were silent. Tears streamed down our faces, and we didn’t bother to wipe them away, but we also didn’t heave or sob. No sound could have defined the pain in that moment.
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