It isn't until I reach our bedroom that I find her and I'm struck by an avalanche of emotions. I stare at her form curled up on the king-sized bed. She looks delicate, fragile, like a miniature figurine. I never saw her that way before. She's usually so feisty and full of life, I don't see her as anything but strong and unyielding. Unbreakable. Which is ridiculous because everyone has a breaking point. I hope I haven't helped push her to hers.
I stand at the door for a few moments, watching her sleep, watching the rise and fall of her chest, marveling at how beautiful she is. Her long dark hair spills around her face and behind her head like a chocolate waterfall. Her olive complexion is flawless, like porcelain. It's been that way since the day I met her.
I want to take her in my arms and hold her. I want to stare into her eyes until I convey how much she means to me. It's like life didn't exist before Marlena, and I sure as hell don't want to know what it's like without her. I'm worried I can't find words strong enough, or meaningful enough, to communicate how much of my heart she holds.
Words messed me up, messed us up. I allowed words I didn't mean to slip from my lips out of anger or frustration, even fear. I took for granted that even though I sometimes reacted badly and said stupid things that she knows my love for her is in every beat of my heart. Now I need something more. More than just words.
I sneak back to the kitchen, moving as quietly as I could. Since she had the water boiling, I prepare a little surprise for her. I place the cup of hot chocolate, overflowing with marshmallows, on the night table besides her. Kneeling on the floor, I watch Marlena sleep for another few minutes, enjoying the peaceful cadence of her breathing and the look on her face.
I stroke her cheek, smoothing her hair back. "Wake up, beautiful."
She startles and opens her eyes.
"Troy." Her eyelids are still heavy with sleep, but the corners of her lips curl up. A gooey warmth shoots through my chest, like someone heated up caramel and spread it all over me. "Troy, we have to talk," she says, propping herself up onto her elbow.
"Shh." I brush my pointer finger down the center of her lips and snake my hand around to the back of her neck as I lean in. I pull her to me and meet her mouth. I deepen the kiss while moving up to the spot next to her on the bed. "We'll talk later," I say breathless, leaning my forehead against hers.
"Yeah, but . . ."
"I need you, Marlena. Right now, I need to be inside you. Please." Reaching for the hem of her shirt, she doesn't argue and raises her arms above her head.
I toss her shirt to the floor then hold her head in my hands, my fingers threading through her silky hair. My eyes lock on hers.
"You are so beautiful and sexy. You're the only woman I'll ever love."
She looks at me with questions in her eyes.
"Touch me. Unbutton my shirt and touch my chest. Feel how fast and hard my heart is pounding with the anticipation of being inside you."
Her eyes dart to the side. I cup her face with one hand and kiss her neck.
"And then I want you to help me out of my pants, because I'm so fucking hard right now that it hurts. That's right. I'm in pain, and I love it, because I know in a few minutes you'll take my pain away. I'll be buried balls deep inside you, and that's worth any pain I have to suffer."
Marlena doesn't argue. Her hands reach up to my neck and loosen my tie. She takes it off me and tosses it on the floor in the vicinity of her shirt. Her fingers get to work moving down, undoing each button on my shirt, from my neck to the waistband of my pants. She pulls the shirt open and places her palms on my bare chest, gliding them over my skin.
I moan. I want her to know, to hear, to feel how much her touch affects me.
"Marlena." I whisper, staring into her eyes. "My heart beats your name. Do you hear it? Mar-le-na. Mar-le-na."
Her eyes water. I know the tears are going to run in a moment. I need to be closer to her. The kissing and touching are great, but even pressed up against me, she's too far.
I pull her up and never breaking eye contact, with my hands on her hips, I help her onto my lap so that she's straddling me. I move her back and forth over my rock-hard cock and breathe in her every breath. Unbuttoning her pants, I reach my hand inside and move it down to her moist center.
She closes her eyes when my fingers work their way between her folds and press on the little nub that drives her crazy.
"Look at me," I say as my fingertips circle around, causing her to moan and breathe hard. I move my hand down further, keeping my thumb on her clitoris and slipping two fingers inside her. She gasps, her mouth opens, and her chest heaves.
Marlena pulls at my hair. I don't dare break eye contact. Even as I pull her bra cup down and knead the soft mound, I do it all while staring in her eyes. I tease the peak of her nipple between my fingers, rolling it, elongating it.
"You're my life, baby. Nothing exists without you."
Her teeth skim over her bottom lip. "Troy."
"Shout my name as you cum for me. I'm yours, and you’re mine. You're mine forever, Marlena."
This sends her over the edge. She shudders in my arms, against my chest. I wait for her to stop bucking against my hand and smile at her.
"That was just a warm up. Are you ready for the real thing?"
Chapter 12
Marlena
Troy's heart pounds hard and fast under my palm. There is something different in the way he's touching me tonight. It seems so purposeful, so intense. It's like he knows our time together is coming to an end.
Shit. I shouldn't think like that. I shouldn't let my mind exaggerate the situation, but it may be true. Maybe when I tell him, he'll run for cover.
"Hey, Marlena." He nudges me with his shoulder.
"What's up?" I answer, looking away.
His hand slides up my cheek and turns my face back toward him. "Where'd you go? You just zoned out on me."
"No, I just . . . I'm sorry." I force myself out of his arms and sit up. I stare down at him, sitting there with his open shirt and nothing else.
"I like this look. It's really sexy."
"Don't change the subject." He sits up and wraps his arms around me, kissing me gently on my shoulder.
The tenderness in his large brown eyes gives me strength to take the next step while at the same time crushes my spirit. We lost each other and found our way back. For what? So my mind and body could deteriorate before his eyes? Before we really have a chance to live?
I take a deep breath. "Troy, we have to talk."
"I know," he holds my head between both of his hands and again looks into my eyes as if he's trying to tell me a story with his. "And I want to hear everything you have to say. But before you do, you need to know that no matter what mistakes I've made, or the stupid things I've said, you've always been the most important thing in my life. I've always loved you. I hope you know nothing is ever going to change that."
The tears start rolling out of my eyes.
"No, baby. Don't cry. It's going to be okay. I promise." Troy kisses around my eyes and wipes the tears away with his thumbs.
Once I calm down a bit, he reaches over to my night table and hands me a cup of hot chocolate. I can see a few remnants of marshmallows that melted into the now semi-warm drink.
"You made this for me?" I ask, placing it back down, having no recollection of making it myself.
"The water was boiling, and I know it's probably what you wanted, so I took care of it."
I throw my arms around his neck and hold on tight, letting myself give in to the full-out crying I've been fighting to hold back. He's holding me just as tight, kissing the top of my head, letting me lose control.
After a few minutes, I calm myself down enough to speak. His strong, callused hand holds on tight to mine, and I get it. He's my strength, my rock to lean on. He knows whatever I'm about to tell him isn't good. He knows everything is about to change, and just by holding me close, by holding on tight, he's letting me know he's going to be by my side.
Troy shakes his head. "I only know that you have something to tell me. And I know no matter what that something is, I'm here for you, right by your side."
"Damn Cooper."
"Don't change the subject. Tell me."
I nod and start at the beginning. I finally come clean about my symptoms and how difficult it's been to function over the last month.
"Why did you wait so long to go to the doctor? When did it start?"
"It started so long ago. I guess before we were even married, but there was nothing consistent. Things would come and go. I have bad pain in my arms and legs for as long as I can remember for no reason at all. It's there one day and gone the next. And then there's the pins and needles, the clumsiness, walking into and dropping things. It happens sometimes, but other times, everything's great. The only constant is I'm out of my mind tired. I ignored it at first. I knew it was a sign of pregnancy. I thought it would get better after I had Mia, but now she's a toddler. Who isn't tired after almost a year and a half of limited sleep? Yeah, she sleeps through the night now, but she didn't for over a year, and when she's awake, she has more energy than a solar farm."
"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize things were so bad, I would've helped more."
"Things haven't been great between us either. For a long time, they were getting worse and worse, just like my symptoms. That made me try harder to prove there was nothing wrong. I didn't want to ask you for anything. Especially not for help with anything."
He closes his eyes. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry." He pulls my head to his chest and strokes my hair. "I'm sorry you've been dealing with this alone. I wish you would've told me. You have no idea how bad I feel. But Marlena, I'm here for you now."
I nod. "The last three weeks . . . I don't know how I made it through the days. I've been trying to nap a lot. I thought that might make it better, but it hasn't. I forget everything. I drive, and all of a sudden I'll look around, and I don't know where I am or where I'm going."
I see the fear in his eyes as my words sink in. "You're too young, it can't be . . ."
I shake my head. "It's not Alzheimer's. But the fact that I forget things reminds me of my father, and it scares the shit out of me."
He squeezes his arms tight around me and kisses my head. "So what does Dr. Cummings think it is?"
This is the hardest part. I spent some time looking it up on the Internet after Cooper left. It sucks. It just all-out sucks.
"He sent me for an MRI today. I have lesions on my brain," I hear the long breath he sucks in and wonder if he knows, if he suspects. "He said it looks like multiple sclerosis."
My heart hammers against my chest as I pull back to look in my husband's eyes. As much as I want to stay in his arms and never leave them, I need to see his reaction. If the eyes truly are the windows to the soul, that's where I need to look, and what I'm seeing now makes me think someone just threw a rock through the glass and shattered it.
He doesn't say anything, so I continue. "There is no cure. The best we can hope for is to slow it down."
His eyes close. His hands reach for mine and squeeze as he takes it all in. I know this is a shock to him. I've had a few hours to deal, as if that makes it any better, but this is hitting him straight on. And no matter how wonderful and supportive he is right now, it's not going to be an easy road ahead. I have to give him the chance to walk away.
"Troy, this is going to be something I have to deal with every day for the rest of my life."
"We. We have to deal with.”
"This isn't the life we planned. This isn't the way it was supposed to happen. If you want a divorce, I’ll understand."
"What is wrong with you?” He looks crushed. “Yes, we've had some bumpy patches, but when have I ever made you feel like I wanted to bail?"
I shake my head.
He lifts my chin with his pointer finger. "You're right, this isn't what we planned. This isn't what I want for you, or us. But we can't change it. I promised to stick by your side for better or worse, in sickness or health, and you're asking me if I want to just walk away? I meant those things. I still mean them."
"I don't want you to. I'm just saying I understand if it's what you choose."
"Bullshit you understand. You don't understand that you and Mia are my whole fucking universe. You expect me to what? Just turn my back on you both? You think I even could? And now that I know you can barely take care of yourself, let alone her, you think I could forget that and say fuck it all?"
"I didn't say turn your back on us. At least not on Mia. And I've been managing."
"It's semantics. And you just said you don't know how you're making it through the day. That's not exactly managing. I can never walk away from either of you." He holds up our joined hands. "It's you and me against the world. It's been that way from the start, and nothing is ever going to change that."
I break down again and let the tears take over. I cling to him, to my strong, handsome husband who makes me feel like his arms can protect me from everything bad in the world.
"We'll get through this, baby. We'll deal with whatever happens. I'm never leaving you."
"I'm scared because I need you like I've never needed anyone. I'm afraid you're going to get tired of the nonsense and the bullshit of me being tired, or forgetting everything, or hearing how dizzy I am, or how much pain I'm in. I'm so scared it's going to all snowball and you're going to turn to someone else. Someone who isn't sick. Someone you could have fun with, that you're not going to have to take care of."
Again he holds my head with both hands and stares into my eyes, his look steadfast, piercing. I see the love pour out of his eyes. "I will never get tired of being here for you, with you. I was a dick because it seemed like things changed when Cooper and Selene moved in together. I thought it was because you wanted him. I believed you settled for me, but he was always the prize, one that you really wanted. I know it's my own damn insecurity and craziness, but that's the way I saw it. I didn't understand, Marlena. I thought you just didn't want me anymore. And I thought that's why you didn't like having sex with me."
"I did like it."
He shakes his head. "Not like now. Before Noah's wedding, when was the last time you had an orgasm?"
"I'm not a guy. I don't keep track of that."
"I'm betting it was before you were pregnant with Mia."
I sniffle. "The whole thing with MS is that it affects everything. I mean everything. And one symptom is decreased sensation, at least in that way."
"That's okay. We figured out we had to change things up a little." He smiles, "So you need a little more time, a little more foreplay. I'm not complaining."
"Now you're not, because it's new, but if it's always that way or if it gets worse, you won't be so enthusiastic."
"Are you kidding? This gives us an excuse to buy toys and try some kinky shit. Hell, I'm down for whatever works."
I laugh, and suddenly the world doesn't seem so dark and grey.
"When's your next doctor’s appointment? I want to go with you."
"I'm waiting to hear from Dr. Cummings. He's trying to get me in with a neurologist right away. He said if his office schedules the appointment, they'll get me in sooner than if I do it myself. And then there's the lumbar puncture. They're going to draw some spinal fluid and depending on how the tests come out and what they see in it, that's how the final diagnosis is made."
"I'll be right by your side through all of it."
"You have to work. I can handle it."
"I know you can, but I want to be there. This affects me too. And you're not some random chick I hooked up with. You're the love of my life. It was one thing when I didn't know, but now that I do, you can't shake me. Got it?"
I nod and smile, thanking God for bringing Troy Evans into my life.
Chapter 13
Troy
I don't want to leave Marlena's side. I know now we're on some invisible clock, and it's driving me crazy. I
understand that I can't live each day worried about when things will change. It's not something I can control. My world already shifted and I missed it. I'm filled with guilt. I should've picked up on what was happening. Instead I kept my head up my ass and watched it happen right under my nose.
I call out of work for the rest of the week so I can spend time helping Marlena. Just knowing something real and chronic is wrong is a lot to deal with and adjust to. I want to make it easier, make sure she's okay with everything.
The thing is, she's not, and I don't know how to make it better. She's fine one minute and then balled up and crying the next. And she won't stay off the damn Internet. We read through the endless articles together and talk about them incessantly, as if the MS diagnosis is already set in stone.
Maybe it is. Maybe I'm the one in denial. I don't want this to be what's wrong. I think I'd have an easier time if it were Alzheimer's. At least then, when everything goes, she might not be aware of it. MS strips you of everything bit by bit, keeping you painfully aware of each and every change.
I'm selfish, and I love her too much to see her suffer. I want the doctors to be wrong, and I want Marlena to stop driving herself crazy.
"Come watch TV with me." I say, trying to distract her.
"Later. I need to know as much I can so I know how to deal with this. I don't even know what questions I should ask the neurologist."
"You'll figure out what to ask as he goes over everything during the examination. Right now I don't want you to overload on information."
"Great, I'll let you know if I do, and you can help me un-load."
I don't argue. I'm here to be supportive, not a pain in the ass. All I can do is be here for her. I do my best to make her laugh when I can, but I feel like no matter what, I can't do enough.
My phone chimes, another text message.
Jacqueline: If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me.
Me: Never. I just need to be at home right now. I'll be back in the office on Monday.
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