by Chelle Bliss
Hook
Chelle Bliss
Hook Copyright
Hook @ Bliss Ink LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
Published by Bliss Ink & Chelle Bliss
Published on January 15th 2019
Edited by Silently Correcting Your Grammar
Proofread by Julie Deaton & Rosa Sharon
Cover Photo @ Allan Spiers Photography
Cover Model: Sebastian Burka
Contents
Don’t miss out!
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Vinnie’s coming
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About the Author
Also by Chelle Bliss
To my crazy, fun Uncle…
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Thank you for always making me laugh and being there by my side during the good times and the bad.
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I’ll love you always, Fabrizio.
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Chelle, xoxoxo
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Prologue
Angelo
How do you say goodbye to the person you thought you had a lifetime to love?
“I’m so tired,” Marissa whispers so softly I barely hear her.
I squeeze her hand gently, trying not to hurt her. “It’s okay, baby. Rest.” But the last thing I want is for her to close her eyes. Every moment that ticks by is one I can’t get back, and I know the end is near.
I never thought I’d be here, sitting beside my wife’s bed, speaking our final words a week before her thirtieth birthday.
“I won’t leave you.” I brush the hair away from her face as she closes her eyes.
The day the doctor said Marissa had stage four cancer, the world came crashing down around us. I knew the horrors. The reality of what would happen. I understood her chances of survival were infinitely small, but still, I hoped she’d defy the odds.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for the months of treatment or these last few hours I’ve sat with her, watching her light slowly fade.
My family has been supportive, doting on Marissa and me for months. They wanted us to focus only on fighting the cancer that was growing out of control inside her. They took care of everything else, including the kids.
Jesus.
The kids.
Every time I look at their tiny, innocent faces and realize all the things Marissa will miss, they’ll miss, I’m completely and utterly wrecked.
The birthdays. The boo-boos only Mommy can kiss and make better. The first loves and broken hearts. The graduations. The weddings. All the milestones, big and small—Marissa won’t be there for any of them. I will have to be father and mother, strength and comfort, guiding my children without her by my side. It terrifies me.
I’m not sure I can do it. Right now, I can barely take care of myself. I’m too busy worrying about her and about the future for the little people we brought into this world, vowing to raise them together. Never for a minute did I think one of us wouldn’t be around to see them grow into adults.
I try to hold back the tears, vowing to stay strong for my wife in her final hours as she battles through the pain while she tries to comfort us in our grief. She’s always been worried about everyone except herself. While the cancer ravaged her body, she wanted the children to know they were loved and that even when she wasn’t there to kiss their soft cheeks, she would be watching over them, loving them from afar.
She’s always been selfless. That’s the thing that drew me to my wife. Her ability to love and give unconditionally without expecting anything in return. I love her with every ounce of my being and have done everything in my power to be the best husband possible—the one she deserves. But no matter how hard I love her, I can’t stop death from taking her away from me…from us.
For months, I’ve mourned her like she’s already gone. That’s the bitch about cancer. Mourning isn’t saved for after the person dies. The process of grieving starts the moment you hear the diagnosis.
Even if there’s a glimmer of hope and you want to believe they’ll get better, there’s always a part of your heart and mind that knows the final outcome and lives in constant fear.
I’ve spent months with an ache so deep in my chest, my heart feels like it’s broken into a million pieces, scratching at my insides as my soul slowly dies along with my wife.
I know as Marissa’s spirit drifts away, my ability to love goes with her. When I said the words “until death do us part,” I never expected her to go first, and certainly not so soon. I thought we had decades. A lifetime of memories to build together, children to raise, and love to share with one another. I thought we’d grow old together, dying of weak bodies well into our nineties, but never now.
Never so young.
I haven’t left Marissa’s hospice room in a week except for a few hours to shower, change clothes, and check on the kids.
The day she stopped getting out of bed was the day I set everything else aside to be with her. I knew the kids needed me, but I had a lifetime to be with them and only days or hours to spend with the greatest love I’d ever known.
“I’ll give you two some privacy.” My mother places her hand on my shoulder and squeezes.
I almost forgot she was in the room. She’s been so quiet and unlike herself.
I lean over the bed, staring down at the bracelet on Marissa’s wrist, trying to hide my tears.
“I’ll be right outside.” Ma stands at my side near the bed.
I lift my gaze to Marissa, wiping away the tears before she can see them. “Thanks, Ma.” My voice cracks on the last word.
I can’t keep my shit together anymore. For months, I’ve been able to remain strong, only letting myself fall apart in private. But now, as the minutes pass too quickly, I’m unable to control the agony from seeping out.
My mother steps in front of me and bends forward, placing her lips against Marissa’
s forehead much like she did to us when we were children. “My love,” Ma whispers softly and closes her eyes, choking back the tears. “Rest now, my sweet girl. I will love you for all eternity.”
It’s a goodbye.
My mother knows the end is near. I know the moment I’ve been dreading marches closer, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
For the first time in my life, everything is out of control. I’m completely powerless.
Tears slide down the sides of Marissa’s face as she struggles to whisper, “I love you, Mama.”
I close my eyes, sealing them so tightly and wishing I could give my life for hers. I’d do anything to be in that bed in her place, feeling everything she’s feeling, giving her another chance at life, and taking away her pain.
My wife deserves as much. That’s my job as her husband. I’m supposed to protect her.
I’ve failed miserably.
I want to go back, redo every moment, every kiss, every day, reveling in the seconds instead of letting them pass as we waste hours in doctors’ offices and chemotherapy trying to save her life.
She fought for me.
Fought for our kids.
Fought for our future.
But no matter what she did or how hard she tried to stop the cancer growing inside her, nothing worked. Not a goddamn thing made any difference. Our biggest fear was realized, leading us to this moment. This place. This devastating end.
We stare at each other in silence as my mother walks out of the room, closing the door behind her. Marissa’s so frail lying in the hospice bed after months of treatment. Her bones are practically poking through her skin in some spots. Every inch of her body has been ravaged by cancer and the poison they injected her with, trying to buy her more time, but unable to save her life.
“I don’t have much time,” Marissa rasps. “You need to listen to me.” She squeezes my hand with the little bit of strength she has left.
I can’t take the distance between us. Sitting in a chair beside her is too far. I crawl into the bed next to her and lie on my side, careful not to hurt her. She tries to move closer but doesn’t have the energy anymore. I pull her against me.
She peers up at me with her head on my bicep and her blue eyes piercing my soul. I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m filing away these moments because I’m not sure how many more times I’ll hold my wife in my arms.
“There’s nothing you need to say. I love you, baby. I love you more than anything in the world,” I tell her, somehow stopping myself from choking up.
“Angelo,” she whispers, and I wonder if it’s the last time I’ll hear her say my name. She runs her tongue along her dry, cracked lips, and when I lean back to grab the water near her bed, she stops me. “Let me say this.”
I nod but don’t speak.
I can’t.
“We both know I’m dying,” she says like she’s accepted her reality even if I haven’t.
“Baby.” I pull her closer and place one hand on her bony hip and the other against her back, feeling absolutely helpless. “Don’t say that.”
We’ve never said those words out loud. Saying them makes it real, and even in this moment, with her gasping for air, I find it hard to believe.
“You need to promise me…” She starts to cough, and I hold my breath, praying she’ll hang on just a little longer.
My stomach twists and my chest aches because I know the worst hasn’t even yet begun. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk, love. It’s too much.”
The tears that seem to have been in my eyes for months are falling down the sides of my cheeks, but I don’t dare let go of my wife to wipe them away.
“Promise me you’ll love again,” she begs.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“Promise me, Angelo. I want our children to have a mother and you to have a wife. I can’t leave this world knowing you’ll be alone.”
I wipe the tears away from her cheeks and cradle her face. “No one can fill your shoes. No one. I can never love another soul the way I love you.”
“Promise me,” she begs again, breaking my heart into a million little pieces. “I need peace.”
“I promise, Marissa.”
I’m an asshole for lying to my wife on her deathbed, but how can she possibly think I’ll ever love again?
Marissa exhales like the weight of the world has been lifted off her shoulders, and she buries her face in my chest, like she does every night before she falls asleep. I hold her tighter, careful not to hurt her, silently begging for a last-minute miracle.
“I love you,” I whisper over and over again, unable to stop myself. I rock her gently in my arms, inhaling the scent and softness of her skin. I’m memorizing every inch of her body, every smell that surrounds her, and soaking it all in for the moments I know I won’t be able to.
Her body goes still, and I don’t hear her breathing. My heart stops, and I hold my own breath, listening for any sign my wife is still with me.
She lets out a long, shaky exhale.
“Marissa.” I release my hold on her back so I can see her beautiful face. “Baby.”
Her eyes are glassy. She’s barely breathing and not moving. She’s staring in my direction, but it’s as if she’s looking right through me instead of at me.
“Marissa,” I say a little louder than before as panic sets in. She doesn’t even blink. “I love you,” I tell her again.
I resist the urge to scream, knowing the end is closer than it’s ever been before. I take another moment to stare into her beautiful blue eyes, praying she can see me and hoping I’m giving her comfort.
“You’re my everything.”
I want to tell her not to go, but it’s selfish. Her body’s shutting down, and she’s ready to leave the pain behind, even if I’m not.
I never will be.
I place my lips against her forehead, humming the song that played at our wedding. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane as I finally come to grips with the fact that my wife isn’t going to get better.
She’s leaving me.
Her breathing changes again as her body struggles to live and is fighting an unwinnable battle. There’s a rattle deep in her chest as her lungs fill with air, and she barely exhales. Her breathing is violent and scarier than I’d ever imagined.
“Baby, you can go. I promise to always love you and make you proud. I’ll watch over our babies and take care of them.” I barely manage to get the words out without losing control.
The world’s spinning, crashing down around me in the most horrific way.
“I love you,” I whisper again because I can’t say it enough.
When she takes her last breath, a piece of my heart dies too.
1
Angelo
“You need to go out, Daddy.” Tate climbs into my lap, blocking my view of the football game. She places her tiny hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look at her and talk about something I've been dancing around for far too long. “Are you listening to me?”
She’s so much like Marissa—so full of life with a side of sass, and her bossiness is off the charts too. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was twice her age. She grew up way too fast because of Marissa’s death, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shelter her from the pain.
I glance down and give her my full attention. “I’m listening, baby girl.”
She tilts her head like she’s about to lay shit out for me. “Brax needs a mommy.”
My head jerks back at the straightforwardness of her comment. “He has one,” I tell her, sweeping her hair behind her ear, wishing I never had to have this conversation with her.
“She’s not here anymore, Daddy. Brax needs one, and so do I.”
Her words are like a knife through my heart. I can’t speak. I’m too choked up by the truth my little girl is dropping in my lap.
She pushes harder against my cheeks, smooshing my face together until my lips pucker. “Mommy won’t be mad, Daddy. She wants you happy
. It’s time for you to get back out there.”
This kid. Where does she come up with this stuff? Even though my eyes are filling with tears, I can’t stop myself from laughing.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Auntie Nee. She said you need to get back in the saddle and ride that horse. I don’t know what a horse has to do with anything.” Tate lifts her tiny palms up near her shoulders and shrugs. “I mean, I don’t know where we’d put one, but I’ve always wanted a pony, Daddy.”
Thanks, Daphne.
“Oh, sweetheart.” I don’t have the heart to tell her Daphne wasn’t actually talking about a horse. Sometimes my family forgets that although the children are small, they’re soaking up every word they say and filing it away in their heads.
She moves her face closer. “I’m serious, Daddy.”
God, how I love these moments with her. I know soon enough she’ll grow up and will barely look at me. But right now, she stares at me with those big blue eyes, the same ones Marissa had, tugging on my heart.
“Okay, Tate. I’ll see what I can do.”
She places her tiny, wet lips on mine as she pulls my face to hers. “You made me happy,” she whispers as she peers into my eyes.