Always You

by Missy Johnson

  I had Huntington’s.

  The disease that killed my father was going to kill me too. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; dad had died from pneumonia, a complication of the disease, but this was my future. I felt frozen, unable to react. God knows what was going though Wrenn’s mind. Maybe it would be best if she moved on without me. I had no idea what was next. What kind of life could I offer her?

  “So, what now?” I asked, clearing my throat.

  “Now, we monitor you. At the moment, every few years, we will follow up. Once symptoms develop, we will track the progression. This doesn’t have to be a death sentence, Dalton. You probably have a good fifteen to twenty years before you develop symptoms. The CAG repeats are on the lower side of positive, and this is a good thing.”

  I wanted to laugh. Not a death sentence?

  Says the guy who was not suffering from an incurable terminal disease that would slowly rob him of his independence, and eventually his life. I stood up, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on me.

  I need to get out of here. I felt sick. I headed for the door, knocking over my chair, with getting out of there the only thing on my mind. I made it outside, with no recollection of going through the waiting room area to get there.

  Breathing in the freezing air, I gripped my hands behind my head, terrified and unsure of what to do next. Crouching down against the brick wall of the office, I slid down until I was sitting on the ground, my head in my hands.

  “Dalton.”

  I felt her arms around me. I didn’t look up. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stand to see her face. I didn’t want to know what she was thinking. I didn’t want to imagine living without her, or dying and leaving her.

  “I can’t do this, Wrenn. I can’t just wait to die,” I said, my voice breaking.

  “Then don’t. Live because you can. Live because you have twenty—maybe more—years before you show symptoms, then maybe another twenty. Live because you love me, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you yet.” She was crying, her dark hair enveloping my face, her soft hands warm against my neck.

  God, I can’t stand the thought of losing you either.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Wrenn

  “I just want you to be sure.”

  I shook my head and laughed. How many times did I have to tell him that he was what I wanted? Many, it seemed.

  “It’s been a month, Dalton. Trust me, I’ve had time to settle. I’ve had more than enough time to think about things, and I have no doubt in the world that I want to be with you.”

  “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all month.” He smiled and cupped my chin, smothering me with sweet kisses. I closed my eyes and relished in the attention, loving every minute of it.

  For the last few weeks we’d been staying with his mom. Dan and Layna had been down a few times, especially in the early days of his diagnosis. Those first few days were hell: everyone was acting like he’d died, mourning for the loss that might still be thirty years away. Things had settled down now, and were almost back to a normal routine.

  The next week, we were moving to Boston. We had finalized the lease agreement on a little two-bedroom apartment not far from the university. I couldn’t wait. Dalton was looking forward to his course, and because mine wouldn’t start until next year I was going to look for a job. It was exciting planning a future with the man I loved.

  I tried not to think about the diagnosis, because I was determined not to spend my time grieving. I’d done enough of that already.

  ***

  I looked up from the jobs section of the Boston Local and saw Dalton’s smiling face.

  “For God’s sake, Wrenn, enjoy your time off. Worry about work when we get there.” He slid into the seat beside me, reaching for an apple from the fruit bowl in the center of the table.

  I made a face at him. “Excuse me, but I want a job. I’m excited about getting out there and working.”

  “That’ll last about a week,” he chuckled.

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “Just because you have a poor work ethic doesn’t mean we all have to,” I said lightly, standing up and slapping him with the newspaper.

  He caught my arm as I went to walk past and twirled me around until I fell into his lap. “You’re lucky you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing my neck.

  I giggled as he worked his way to my lips. I would never tire of kissing him.

  “You’re fucking amazing, Wrenn, you know that? Not a moment goes by where I don’t appreciate how lucky I am to have found you.”

  I smiled, wrapping my arms around him, knowing that I was the lucky one.

  “I love you,” I murmured, my mouth finding his. He kissed me roughly, his hands moving all over me, like he couldn’t get enough. “I love you so much.”

  “God, Wrenn, I love you too.” He shook his head and looked deep into my eyes. “Whether you realized it or not, since that first time we met all those years ago, you’ve inspired me to be more than I thought I ever could be. It was always you…”

  THE END

  Epilogue

  Wrenn

  Five years have passed since I graduated from Tennerson’s. Dalton and I are still together, still very much in love. He shows no sign of the disease, and some days I see how healthy and strong he is and think they have to have made a mistake. He can’t possibly be sick.

  I’m in my final year of law school, and Dalton teaches at a local elementary school in Boston. He says his third grade students are much easier to handle than teenage girls, and I agree with him.

  I’m getting toward that age where I think about having children of my own—then I wonder is it selfish of me to want that. I dread the day this disease takes hold of Dalton. Is it fair to put our children through that? I can’t even imagine how hard it must have been for him, watching his father deteriorate; and as a mother, you’d want to protect them from that, right?

  Even if it means not bringing them into this world?

  Then I think about what an amazing man he is, and how lucky our children would be to have even just a few years with him.

  I never thought that at twenty-three, these would be decisions I’d have to make sooner rather than later. Not once have I regretted my decision to be with Dalton. Everyday I feel his love for me and think how lucky I am to have found that.

  I will make the most of the time I have with him, and together we will deal with whatever life throws at us.

  Dalton

  Every moment I spend with Wrenn is a gift, and one I am grateful for. So many people never experience love, and I’m lucky to have found someone I want to spend the rest of my life with.

  I’m symptom-free and happy, and I try my damn best to appreciate that. I won’t sit here and say it hasn’t been hard. I wonder what is around the corner, and how we will deal with that.

  You try to focus on the good, and for the most part you can do that. Then every now and then the negativity creeps in and you can’t help but think about what you’re going to be leaving behind.

  I look at Wrenn and I see this incredible woman with such inner strength that every day, she amazes me. I want to give her the children she craves so badly, but I worry. Seeing my dad go through the final stages of this was hell—something I’d never want to inflict on another human being, let alone my own children. But is it fair of me to deny Wrenn the gift of being a mother? Because she would make a fucking amazing one. I don’t know what the answer is.

  For now, I’ll continue to live my life and be thankful for what I have. There are so many worse off than me. I could have an aggressive cancer, or lose my life in an accident. We know what is coming, and no, it’s not an easy thing to live with, but we still have today, and the next day, and the day after that.

  Before I met Wrenn and when Dad was still alive, I remember sitting with him, watching him struggle to breathe and thinking to myself if it ever came to this I would end my life. I wouldn’t let my fam
ily suffer the pain of watching me die. Now? I don’t think I could do it. I couldn’t rob her of those few precious extra moments together.

  This disease sucks, but I refuse to let it define me. I’m determined to fill our lives with such happy memories that after I’m gone, Wrenn remembers only the wonderful moments we shared. Every day I make sure she knows how much she means to me. If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can never tell someone enough how much they mean to you, because you never know when the day is going to be your last.

  “Live each day like there is no tomorrow, but don't forget to live each day like there was no yesterday either. Live in the present, for it is a gift from God. That's why it is called the present.”—Emily Austen.

  Looking for your next read? Check over the page for some great reccommendations.

  Synopsis and excerpt for Very Bad Things, by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  Very Bad Things, the #1 New Adult Romance from bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills.

  "Very Bad Things is maddening, passionate, heart-breaking, all-encompassing, and about a million other adjectives." Books to Breathe

  Synopsis:

  Born into a life of privilege and secrets, Nora Blakely has everything any nineteen-year-old girl could desire. She’s an accomplished pianist, a Texas beauty queen, and on her way to Princeton after high school. She’s perfect…

  Leaving behind her million dollar mansion and Jimmy Choos, she becomes a girl hell-bent on pushing the limits with alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex.

  Then she meets her soulmate. But he doesn’t want her.

  When it comes to girls, twenty-five-year old Leo Tate has one rule: never fall in love. His gym and his brother are all he cares about until he meets Nora. He resists the pull of their attraction, hung up on their six year age difference.

  As they struggle to stay away from each other, secrets will be revealed, tempers will flare, and hearts will be broken.

  Welcome to Briarcrest Academy…where sometimes, the best things in life are Very Bad Things.

  Excerpt~

  I purposely walked outside to the patio and strolled by his table, shooting him and his companions a flirtatious smile while he glared back. Then I went to the bar and ordered a glass of water. And waited.

  It took fifty-three seconds for him to appear beside me.

  “Not drinking today?” he said in a low voice, sending delicious tingles all over my body. He settled himself beside me on a stool.

  “No fake ID,” I said, putting my hand on his inner thigh and caressing the taut muscles there. “You seem tense. Is there anything I can do to help you relax?” I asked, my lips curving up in invitation.

  He stared at my stroking hand and swallowed but didn’t move away. “I just came over to see how you’re doing,” he said with a face like stone, not giving anything away.

  I scowled and pulled my hand back. “Why? Because you feel bad for the poor little rich girl with all the problems?”

  He looked away from me.

  I said, “Let’s go in the bathroom and fuck.”

  He exhaled heavily and stood up from the stool.

  “No?” I said, feeling ashamed for the words coming out of my mouth, yet completely powerless to stop them. “You know, one of my favorite books has this sizzling chapter where the main characters go to lunch together. And even though it’s a first date, they end up fucking in a bathroom stall because they can’t wait to get at each other. He just bends her over and gives it to her, hard and fast. I’d like to reenact that scene.” I took a hasty sip of water and got my nerve up. “All we’d have to do is pick the biggest stall, and then you flip my dress up and take me from behind. Or I could get on my knees for you?”

  He paled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t want me, Nora. I’ll fuck you and when I’m done, I’ll leave you.”

  All the air was taken out of me and a searing pain squeezed my heart so hard I thought I might cry out. “Well, if not you, then someone else will do,” I said, looking around the bar. “Who should I choose? There’s the young guy over there in the corner with the power suit and buzz cut who’s been trying to catch my eye since I sat down…although I think I see a wedding band on his finger. He’s out, I suppose. Even I have standards. And, there’s the fortyish-looking guy sitting across from me. He’s been staring at my breasts.” I smiled and waved at the gentleman in question, and he waved back, a hopeful look on his face. “Oh yeah, definitely interested.”

  I opened my purse, pulled out a pen and wrote my name and number on a bar napkin. I pushed it over to Leo. “Do me favor? Take this over to him and tell him what a great girl I am. How good I am. How you know I’m not really bad.” I stared at Leo’s crotch. “Maybe tell him how hard you get when I talk about fucking.”

  He pulled me off the stool so quick I didn’t know what had happened until I was standing right next to him, both of our chests heaving and tempers flaring. His eyes flashed. “Go back to your table. No fucking today, Nora,” he bit out.

  I smiled and batted my lashes. “Tomorrow?”

  He growled at me and I thrilled at the sound, imagining him doing it while he made love to me. See, here’s the thing: this was a whole lot more than just wanting to do bad things. I couldn’t blame this on meaningless sex. No, this was all about him. About Leo. He sparked this insatiable, urgent need in me, one that I hadn’t quite wrapped my head around yet. I’d never felt more alive than when I was with him, even if we were antagonizing each other.

  “Are you high?” he asked me, his eyes boring into mine.

  I laughed. “God, no. This is all me,” I said bitterly. “I don’t need drugs to be a whore, Leo. I can do it all by myself.”

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  Excerpt from Kitchen Pomises, Riveside Novel #3 by Brooke Cumberland.

  Chapter One Excerpt~

  Drake walked in wrapped in only a towel. The toast I was bringing to my mouth suddenly dropped from my fingers as my eyes roamed over his perfectly toned body. My eyes followed down to his perfect V that went just below the towel.

  “Breakfast in bed and a show? I’m one lucky gal,” I teased, leaning back against the headboard enjoying the view.

  “Someone sounds like they are feeling better.” He smiled.

  “Well, I for sure am now.”

  “Really? Well, perhaps I should take advantage of that.” He grinned, slowly unwrapping the towel from around his waist. I smirked as I watched him tease me, putting on a show as he finally released the towel. I watched it fall to the ground. I let my eyes wander up and down his body—appreciating every single chiseled curve of muscle.

  “It’s not nice to tease,” I reminded him. “You better put out or get out.”

  “Oh, I love it when you talk dirty,” he quipped, laughing. “I can’t decide if I love or hate your pregnancy hormones.” He grinned. It was true—I had a love/hate relationship with them as well. On top of always wanting to sleep and eat, I also wanted sex—all the time. Not that Drake minded, but some days, I was all over the place. I felt like I had no control over them. They were beginning to drive me mad.

  “Can you be a little late for work today?” I asked, placing the tray of food on the bedside table. I didn’t take my eyes off him as I watched him walk over to the bed. “I’d hate for you to get into trouble.” I grinned.

  “I could probably weasel my way out of it with the boss.”

  “You are the boss.”

  “I know.” And with that, he made his way on top of me, brushing the covers off. “I think I can spare a few minutes…” He pressed his lips across my jaw, slowly moving to my neck. He bit i
t gently, making a moan escape my mouth at his touch and eagerness. “…for you.”

  His hands slid up my sides, taking my shirt up with them. I arched my neck to the side, giving him better access as the sensations riveted through me.

  I reached down, pressing him harder into me. I felt his hardness against me, making me desperate and needy for him.

  The hormones made my body respond to him so much more—not that I didn’t before—but it was magnified. It was intensified, and I felt desperate to have him.

  “Screw the foreplay. I need to have you right now,” I demanded, pushing his body harder against mine.

  “Such a romantic, aren’t you?” I could feel him smiling against my neck as he continued softly kissing.

  “I mean it. I’m going to explode,” I breathed out rapidly. Just his touch could undo me completely.

  “Alright, hold on, baby.” He lowered his body and in one swift motion, slid my panties down. I wasn’t looking for romance right now. I needed him just as much as I needed to breathe.

  I threw my shirt over my head and unclasped my bra. It was still weird seeing my body naked with the way it was changing so fast, but it was also a constant reminder of the love Drake and I shared.

  Instead of pressing into me like I wanted him to, he tenderly laid kisses over my stomach and in between my breasts. He was torturing me. He knew it, too. I was practically grinding against him, yet he refused to give in.

  “Baby, please,” I moaned out desperately.

  “I can’t help it. You are just so beautiful. You have the most beautiful pregnant glow.” He continued to lay kisses around my bump, slowly, taking his time.

  “That’s great,” I huffed, cupping his face up to look at me. “I’m going to handcuff you to this bed and straddle you if you don’t—”