Thrill of Love

by Melissa Foster

  “Aiyla and I have never had extended family like this.” Cherise had sea-blue eyes like their mother’s, which Aiyla had always envied. Her skin was pale, also like their mother’s, and when she tilted her head with a thoughtful expression, it was their mother’s eyes Aiyla saw gazing at Shannon. “Thank you for loving my sister as much as I do.”

  “We aren’t crying tonight, remember?” Shannon reminded them.

  A lump rose in Aiyla’s throat. She and Shannon had cried enough tears since she and Steve had arrived a few days ago. They’d gotten so close, Aiyla had confided in her about worries she’d kept to herself. What if Ty no longer finds me sexy with a stump instead of a leg? The worry had surprised her, because she had never given her body much thought in that regard. What if sex is different afterward? She would no longer be able to move the way she did now, and then there would be other things to slow them down, like removing her prosthesis. Shannon had whipped out her phone and immediately Googled each of her concerns, starting with pictures of women with missing limbs in all stages of undress. They looked even more beautiful than similar pictures of women with all their limbs. Aiyla had always found beauty in the hardships of people’s lives. She couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t realized the same would be true of herself. Shannon had moved on to articles about sexual intercourse with amputees. There was nothing Shannon wouldn’t talk about, and she did it in such thoughtful, funny ways that by the time they were done Googling, they were hugging and laughing. Later that night, Aiyla had confided in Ty, and he’d surprised her by not reassuring her with an off-the-cuff comment, but by talking out her concerns and admitting that yes, things in all aspects of their lives would likely be different—and that he looked forward to discovering those differences together.

  Aiyla looked around now. Jillian sat a few feet away chatting with Faith, Jewel, and Leesa, who was nursing her sweet baby girl. Down the beach, Beau and his very large brothers, Nick, Jax, and Graham, were playing football against Cole, Nate, Sam, and Steve. Aiyla’s gaze was drawn to Ty again, standing with his parents. He glanced over and smiled.

  Maisy headed her way. She knelt on the blanket beside Aiyla and put a hand on her shoulder. “How’s it going, honey? Can I do anything for you?”

  This is what families do. Aiyla already felt like part of theirs.

  “You’ve done so much already, and you promised to take care of Ty while I’m in surgery. That means the world to me.” She would be out cold during the surgery, but she worried about Ty. Last night they’d gone to their house and sat on the porch and then had gone down to the creek and taken pictures of their legs and feet. As he’d done in Colorado, he’d massaged her unhealthy leg and her foot, kissing every inch, and they’d both broken down in tears. How could they not mourn the loss of her leg? She was sure there would be many more tears to come, but they’d also spent the last few weeks filling up a beautiful wooden I-Really-Do-Love-You box that Nash had built for them. Aiyla had taken Ace’s advice and written not one, but several letters reminding herself why she’d chosen amputation over limb-sparing surgery. She didn’t know what the future would be like, but she knew she’d made the right decision. She didn’t want to worry about lingering cancer cells, or a leg that no longer worked properly. And as Ty came to her side, carrying her nephew David on his shoulders, she knew he’d love her no matter what the future held.

  Ty lifted David from his shoulders and her nephew toddled over to Cherise and curled up in her lap. “Can I borrow you for a minute, babe?”

  “Borrow?” Trixie rolled her eyes. “Who are you kidding? You put a ring on that girl’s finger to be sure you had her for keeps.”

  “I sure did, and I’d do it all over again.” He took Aiyla’s hand and lifted her to her feet. “Can you manage a walk?”

  “Definitely.” The pain in her leg was constant, but there was no way she’d give up what was probably her last walk with Ty along the beach with both of her natural legs.

  They walked down the beach arm in arm, the din of their friends and family fading in the distance. They didn’t talk, and it was nice just being together, with the sand between her toes and the ocean breeze on her face. Ty held her against his side, serenaded by the waves lapping at the shore.

  “We should call it a night soon,” he finally said. “We have to be up early.”

  “I know. I really wanted to sleep outside since I won’t be able to do that for a while, but I don’t want to kick everyone out.”

  “Hm. I had forgotten that you wanted to sleep outside.” He stopped walking and sat on the sand, bringing her down beside him. The breeze swept his hair away from his face, and he looked so handsome, he took her breath away.

  “We can sleep in your room,” she said. “We’ll just open the windows.”

  With an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her closer. “That’s not the same, but soon we’ll have our own sleeping porch. Babe, do you want to talk about tomorrow?”

  She didn’t really. “Do you?”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Terrified,” she admitted. “You?”

  “I’m not afraid of the amputation or what it means. But I just spent half an hour begging Jon to let me be in the operating room with you.”

  “You did not.” She laughed, but he turned a serious, sheepish look her way, and she realized he was telling her the truth. “Ty. You know you can’t be in there.”

  “I thought I could pull some strings.” A cocky smile lifted his lips, and just as quickly, it faded. “I should be by your side.”

  “You will be by my side. I’ll carry you here.” She patted her chest over her heart. “You’re my strength. Without you, all of this would have been a hundred times harder.” She moved onto his lap and rested her head on his shoulder.

  “I don’t want much,” he said. “I just want to wrap you up in a protective shield and never let anything hurt you again.”

  She laughed softly. “You do that every minute of every day.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Her ring sparkled in the moonlight, reminding her that she wasn’t allowed to wear it during her surgery. The thought of taking it off was heartrending, but it would be even harder tomorrow.

  “Ty, I can’t wear jewelry in surgery. Will you hold my ring for me?”

  He nodded, sadness rising in his eyes. “Of course.”

  She moved to take it off, and her fingers curled into a fist against her will. “I hate taking it off.”

  “I know.” He embraced her and whispered, “I’ll be waiting to put it back on your finger the minute you’re out of surgery. It’s only a symbol. It doesn’t negate our love or commitment by taking it off.”

  “How do you always know what to say?” She drew back, but she missed him and cuddled in close again.

  “Because we belong together. When the powers that be were doling out answers, I stood in the Aiyla-only line.”

  She held out a shaky hand, and he slipped the ring off her finger and put it on his pinky.

  They sat together for a long time, and when they finally made their way back down the beach, the bonfire had been doused and the yard was pitch-dark, save for a sprinkling of moonlight.

  “Where is everyone?”

  Ty took her hand as they walked up the steps and into his parents’ backyard. “Do you believe in fate?”

  “You know I do.”

  He turned toward her and said, “Do you believe in me?”

  “More than I believe in fate.”

  “Then you know I’d never forget a single word you said.”

  He drew her into a warm and wonderful kiss, and when their lips parted, he took her hand and began walking toward the woods. She saw something white flapping in the breeze. As they neared, an arbor came into focus, with gauzy white sheets hanging along the frame like curtains. Aiyla could barely see through her tears as he drew back the curtains, revealing a low wooden platform with a king-size mattress and fluffy blankets and pillows. Dozens of red roses surr
ounded the bed.

  He wrapped her in his arms and she said, “How did you arrange this without me knowing?”

  “Baby, don’t you know yet? For you, anything is possible.”

  THE NEXT MORNING moved by in a blur of anxiety. Ty and Aiyla drove to the hospital with his parents and Cherise and found their friends and family waiting there to greet them. Caleb and Nash had stayed home with the boys, but everyone else was there to give Aiyla one last round of tearful hugs and well wishes. When Ty was forced to leave her so she could go down to pre-op, he felt like he’d left his heart in that room.

  The wait was painful. Time passed with everyone trying to console him. But the only thing that could make him feel any better was seeing Aiyla again and knowing she was okay. He looked around the room, taking in the worried faces of the people he loved, the hands being held, the sweet embraces, and the whispered prayers. There was so much love and support in that waiting room, and it was all for the woman he adored. He didn’t know what to do with the emotions bowling him over.

  He twisted Aiyla’s engagement ring on his pinky, please let her be okay playing in his mind like a broken record. When he heard his name and saw Jon closing in on him, his heart leapt. He pushed to his feet, hands fisted at his sides. “Is she okay?” rushed from his lungs.

  “She did great,” Jon assured him. “The surgery went well, and we got all of the cancer. Nice, wide negative margins.”

  Tears sprang from his eyes as he threw his arms around Jon. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Behind him collective sounds of relief and gratitude filled the room. “Can I see her?”

  “Yes. She’s sleeping, and she’s going to be out of it for quite a while, but you can go back. But she can’t have more than one person with her right now.”

  Ty looked at Cherise, silently offering her the chance to go in, but Cherise shook her head. He hugged her tight. “Thank you. I’ll tell her you’re here.”

  Jon put a hand on Ty’s arm, guiding him away from the others and talking quietly. “Ty, it can be a shock seeing someone you love in a hospital bed, especially after major surgery.”

  “Thank you for the warning, but I’ll be fine. I need to see her.”

  “I know, buddy. I just want you to be prepared. People react differently when seeing their loved one without a limb for the first time. Would you like me to go in with you?”

  Ty swallowed hard. “No. I’m good.” Just get me in there. Please.

  A few minutes later he stepped into the recovery room, taking in the monitors, the IV running from Aiyla’s arm, and the device on her finger. She looked so vulnerable in the sterile hospital bed. The pit of his stomach plummeted, while his heart filled up at finally seeing her. The conflicting emotions rivaled inside him as he moved toward the bed where she lay sleeping. His gaze drifted down her body, dozens of emotions speeding through him as he took in her thin frame tucked warmly beneath blankets, her narrow hips, and finally, the lifeless area where her leg would have been. More tears fell down his cheeks. All the weeks of worrying came rushing forward. Seeing her there, without her leg, brought it all home. Made it real. If it were possible to love a person more than he already loved her, then he soared past that level, because all he felt was the desire to crawl into bed with her and hold her tight.

  He carefully bent to kiss her forehead and cheeks. Beneath the pungent, antiseptic hospital smell was the familiar scent of his sweet, strong Aiyla. His heart. His whole world.

  “I love you, baby. I’m right here.” He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, carefully holding her, and he stayed there, feeling her heart beating beneath his arm, listening to her steady breathing, until the nurse came in to check on her. He moved to a chair and covered Aiyla’s hand with his.

  “She’s doing just fine, honey,” the nurse reassured him.

  Ty nodded. He was sure she was telling him the truth, but he’d feel better when Aiyla woke up.

  After the nurse left, he put his forehead on Aiyla’s hand, softly telling her how much he adored her and how everyone was in the waiting room and that they’d been there the whole time. Her fingers twitched against his palm, and he lifted his head.

  Aiyla’s eyes fluttered open, and he rose so she could see him. Her gaze drifted sleepily up his chest, and then her beautiful hazel eyes focused on his face.

  He caressed her cheek. “Hi, baby cakes.”

  She smiled, and it drew more tears. He wiped them away, not wanting to upset her, but he was so damn happy it was hard to keep them at bay.

  “Did they get it all?” she asked groggily.

  “Yes, baby. They got all of it. The surgery went well. You’re going to be fine.”

  Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, and he kissed them away. He leaned in and hugged her. “Oh, my brave girl. I love you so much.”

  “Can we plan our wedding now?” she asked sleepily.

  A half laugh, half cry fell from his lips. “Yes, we’ll plan our wedding.”

  She lifted her left hand, and he slid her ring onto her finger.

  “Sleep, baby. Get some rest,” he said, and kissed her softly.

  “I can’t sleep without you.”

  He wasn’t sure he should, but he went around the bed to her other side so he wouldn’t accidentally bump her stitches and carefully climbed onto the bed, lying sideways next to her. She rested her head against his chest and whispered, “Don’t leave me.”

  “I never will. Close your eyes, baby. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.” He ran his fingers through her hair, and a while later, when the nurse came in to check on Aiyla again, he said, “Please don’t ask me to move, or we’re going to have trouble.”

  The kind nurse smiled and said, “Honey, you are right where you’re supposed to be.”

  Epilogue

  FALL AND WINTER were difficult for Aiyla and Ty as they bullied their way through Aiyla’s rehabilitation, physical therapy, and learning to live with a prosthetic limb. Between the pain and adjusting to needing help every single day, mood swings came too frequently—for both of them. Tears of frustration and tears of sadness were mixed with reprieves of laughter and closeness. It was not an easy road. Aiyla mourned the loss of her leg more than she’d anticipated, but Ty was always there for her, and Ace was a godsend for both of them. They’d made it through the worst of it together, with the endless support of family and friends and constant reminders from their I-Really-Do-Love-You box. Spring arrived with beautiful bluebells and wildflowers, restoring beauty to their land, and by late spring, with the worst behind them, their emotions settled and their love was stronger than ever.

  Aiyla stood before the mirror in their bedroom admiring her wedding gown. Jillian and Jax had created the perfect dress, with soft macramé detail around the neckline, leaving her shoulders bare. The gauzy silk bodice had a sheer crocheted lace waist and fell to a maxi skirt with two high side slits, stopping a few inches from the ground, allowing for easy movement. It was elegant and simple, and perfect for her and Ty’s wedding day. She opened the doors to their sleeping porch and walked into what she and Ty thought of as the most peaceful room in their house. She needn’t have worried about feeling sexy, or about how their lovemaking would change. Ty was just as loving and as sensual as ever. He never hesitated to kiss her stump, or touch her like he used to, and because of that, those worries had disappeared.

  The air was crisp and fresh, and voices floated up from the creek where Ty and their family and friends waited for the ceremony to begin. She couldn’t believe their wedding day was finally there. She’d dreamed of the day their lives would no longer revolve around her recuperation and her leg. Things had normalized so much lately, and her leg had become as much a part of her daily routine as brushing her teeth. Sometimes she worried about getting a sore spot and not being able to wear her prosthesis, and before they went out, she always did a mental accessibility check, but those things were part of their lives now—as would be quarterly CT scans for the next twelve months.<
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  “Is Auntie Aiyla wearing her show leg today?” Danny’s voice drifted into the bedroom.

  My show leg. They’d begun calling it that for her nephews and Phillip’s sake, and the name had stuck. She had several prostheses, and yes, today she was wearing her show leg, which was the one that looked most like a natural leg. Most of the time she didn’t bother with her show leg, but wore the one that showed the hardware because it felt less cumbersome. The boys called that one her bionic leg. Ty had found a goat-inspired prosthesis for mountain climbing, and they were hoping to be able to try that out sometime in the next year. She also had a prosthetic called a Cheetah, made just for running. She hadn’t tried that one out yet, but one day…

  “Yes, my little man,” she said to Danny as she came into the room. Danny, David, and Phillip wore khaki shorts and button-down shirts. They looked adorable. “Today I’m wearing my show leg.”

  He peeked between the slits in her dress and touched it. She was used to that. Children were curious. They stared and asked questions, and sometimes strangers—adults and children—shied away from her. But in those times, she reminded herself of how other people were scared of what they didn’t understand and how lucky she was to be cancer free. How lucky she was to have caught her cancer early, and to be alive.

  Danny wrapped his arms around her legs and smiled up at her with the same big baby blues as his mama. “I love you, Auntie. Happy wedding day!”

  She bent down and kissed his mop of dark hair. “I love you, too, honey. Thank you.”

  “It’s time,” Shannon said as she came into the bedroom carrying Aiyla’s headpiece in one hand and Charlotte Sterling’s latest erotic romance in the other. “By the way, this book? There are no words for how awesome it is. I might need to borrow it for some…research.”

  Aiyla laughed. She’d been shocked when Charlotte had called Ty and asked for her address. When she’d received an autographed copy of the book, she and Ty had scoured it for the office scene. Sure enough, the whole thing was on the page, including the mad make-out session they’d carried on while they’d thought she was typing.