Our Alternate Ending

by Katie Fox

  Now, they meant absolutely nothing.

  There was a reason why we’re told to live every moment as if it’s our last. At any given second, it could be. Life was short. Time was invaluable. We didn’t get to press pause or rewind. All we could do was live our life to the best of our ability and hope that when it’s over it held meaning.

  Had my life held meaning?

  I didn’t know the answer to that question. Four months ago, I would’ve said yes, but when you’re faced with the unthinkable, when you find yourself sitting in your doctor’s office being told that you have less than a year to live, you begin to question everything. You begin to wonder if you’ve made a difference. You wonder if your life held any purpose at all. Things that once mattered become second thoughts, distant memories, and you quickly learned the only reason why life was so precious was because it ends.

  Life. Ends.

  My life was ending...

  Tears burned in my eyes, and like always, I fought against them and the painful lump in my throat. I wanted to bury the realization, but the crushing weight of it sat heavily on my chest, dragging my knees to the ground and the breath from my lungs. I dropped my face into my hands, feeling the wetness on my cheeks and the fear that was working its way up my throat. It released itself on a raw and agonizing scream, and I barely heard my old bedroom door creaking open.

  “Owen?” Footsteps grew closer. Thin arms pulled me into their warm embrace. Slender fingers stroked through my hair. “Shh...”

  I clenched fistfuls of my mother’s shirt, and suddenly I was that little boy again, the one who would fall off his bike and scuff his knees, the one who had needed his bruises mended with a simple kiss. Gone was the self-assured, independent man I had grown to be. I was just a boy who needed his mom. I needed her to tell me everything was going to be okay, even if it wasn’t.

  “I’m scared.” The words were barely audible through my cries, but I knew she had heard them because her protective hold on me tightened and her lips pressed harder against my forehead. I repeated the words because it was the first time I’d admitted them, not only out loud but to myself. “I’m scared, Ma.”

  She rocked me gently, not bothering to wipe away her own tears that fell. “I know, baby. I know.”

  Pain was a strange thing.

  I had experienced varying levels of it over the last four months, and when I thought I knew how much my body could tolerate, I was quickly proven wrong. My migraines paled in comparison to the ache that now lived permanently in my chest. A week had passed since I had shattered the heart of the woman I loved, and I wanted to make it right. I wanted to piece her back together and make her beautifully whole again, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t because I was dying and there was nothing I could do to change that.

  I had accepted my fate.

  I was learning to live with the cards I had been dealt.

  Then Elle Callihan stumbled into my life with her wet hair and broken heel, her coffee-stained blouse, and I knew—I knew the moment I saw her that I’d never be the same. And the more time I spent with her, the more I realized that she’d entered my life for a reason. She was an angel in disguise, here to save me with her smiles and her laughter, with her selfless love. There was no saving me from the cancer, but I could still be saved from the pit of anguish and despair that the disease had forced me into.

  And maybe, just maybe, I could save her, too.

  It was why I constantly pushed her in the direction of her dreams—why I had paid off the mortgage for her parents’ restaurant. Standing on the beach, I’d made her a promise that everything would be okay, and it was a promise I intended to keep. I would do everything within my power to make sure she had a fair shot at living the life she’d always dreamed.

  She deserved that.

  With one elbow resting on the arm of my desk chair, my fingers stroking the five-day-old stubble on my jaw, I stared out at the skyline, watching the sun disappear behind the buildings. The sunset here didn’t even come close to the one I’d witnessed on the beach in Maine, and I was starting to think Elle was right: perhaps it was where heaven existed.

  The sound of my door creaking open pulled my attention away from the view, but I didn’t turn around. “What do you need, Millie?”

  There was a pause before her voice floated across the distance and over my shoulder. “It’s getting late. Everyone else has already left for the evening. I was getting ready to leave myself, and I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

  No. No, I’m not okay.

  Swiveling my chair around to look at her, I nodded softly. “I’m good, Mill. Get on outta here. I’m going to sit and watch the sunset for a little while longer.”

  Walking toward me, she set her purse down on my desk and grabbed hold of one of the leather chairs positioned in front of it. Dragging it around to where I was sitting, she pushed it right up beside me and sat down, a sad smile on her face. “I think I’ll sit with you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Something tells me I don’t really have a choice.” I smirked as soon as the retort left my mouth, and she took it as a good sign, seeing as it was the closest I’d come to smiling all week.

  Reaching over, Millie placed her hand over mine, squeezing it gently. “Have you heard from her at all?”

  The painful lump was back in my throat, and the ache in my chest magnified. Squinting away the burning sensation in the corner of my eyes, I shook my head. “No.”

  “Give her time, Owen. She’s just feeling lost and broken, that’s all. We all process our grief differently. You of all people should know this, but I have no doubt she’ll come around. She loves you.”

  “Will she, though?” I glanced over at her, unconvinced. “I don’t have forever, Mill, and while I’m ready to give her every single second I have left, how can I selfishly expect her to want to be a part of it?”

  Millie frowned. “None of us have forever, sweetheart. We’re all going to die someday. Some of us sooner than others, but it’s not the amount of time we have left that matters. It’s what we do with that time. And if you want to spend the rest of yours loving her, then love her, Owen. Love her the same way you’d love her if you had forever to give.”

  Loving her wasn't the problem. I did love her. But you couldn't force love on somebody who didn't want it.

  As if Millie had read my thoughts, she repeated herself. “Give her time.”

  I'd give her time, even if it meant wasting all of mine.

  Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling, feeling the pressure of an oncoming migraine pound painfully against my temples. Like most nights over the last four months, sleep hadn't come easy, and that night, it was in the realm of impossible. My mind was too occupied with thoughts of Elle. Not knowing where she was or how she was doing ate me up inside, and I was worried about her. I wanted to go to her, but every time I'd work up the courage, Millie’s words echoed in my ears, and I'd resist the urge.

  She was right. I needed to give Elle time, but time and I didn't get along. Not at all. I was impatient, and time was an asshole.

  You hear that, time? You’re an asshole.

  Shifting restlessly, I grabbed my phone, squinting against the brightness as I unlocked the screen.

  It was almost midnight.

  They didn't start selling the good shit until at least two-thirty, so that meant channel three was out. Scrolling through my apps, I opened my text messages. Elle's thread remained and I clicked on it, a heaviness crushing my lungs as I read through each one. My lips tugged a little in the corners as my eyes scanned over the one I had sent her when we were in L.A.

  You missing me, Elle?

  I had missed her that day. Not nearly as much as I missed her now, but yes, I missed her. I continued to scroll through the rest of the thread, and as I made it to the bottom, I typed out a message.

  One message wouldn't hurt, would it?

  It’s midnight, and as always, I can't sleep, but for once, I'm not thinking of my regrets
, Elle. I'm thinking of how hopelessly in love with you I am, how hopelessly in love with you I was the moment I saw you, and how hopelessly in love with you I'll still be even after I'm gone.

  My thumb hovered over the send button, and as I started to delete the words, a knock on the door echoed throughout my silent apartment. Setting my phone down on my nightstand, I sat up and swung my legs off the side of the mattress. Who the hell was at my door at this hour? Walking over to my dresser, I grabbed a white T-shirt from the top of the pile in my drawer, and as I pulled it over my head, I padded quietly down the hall. I slid the chain from its lock and twisted the knob, slowly swinging it open.

  My heart stopped.

  “Please tell me it was all a nightmare. Please tell me it’s not true. Please tell me that you're not dying, Owen, because I can't bear it. I can’t bear to lose you.”

  My vision blurred, distorting the beautiful image of her standing there in my doorway, and my voice cracked on a painful whisper. “I wake up every day wishing it wasn't.”

  My response wasn’t what she wanted to hear, I knew that, but it was the truth, and I couldn't fill her with false hope.

  I wouldn't.

  Elle shook her head, tears falling fast from her red and puffy eyes, and I didn't give her a chance to run from me this time. I reached out, sliding my hands around her waist and dragging her into my chest before burying my face in her hair and holding on to her as if she'd fade away if I didn't.

  I loved her. I loved her so goddamn much. And I was going to continue to love her whether she wanted that love or not.

  Her arms immediately came up to loop around my neck and she held me just as tightly, her tiny frame trembling uncontrollably within my grasp. “Oh God. Why?” She cried the words over and over again. “Why?”

  Feeling her knees give out beneath her, I slipped an arm under her thighs and hauled her against my chest. She nuzzled her face in my neck, her wet tears rolling off her cheeks and splashing down on my skin, and I kicked the door shut with my foot. I walked her through the living room and down the hallway to my bedroom where I laid her gently on the mattress before crawling in beside her.

  Pulling her tightly against me, I cupped the back of her head and pressed my lips to her forehead, kissing her hard. “I love you, Elle Callihan. I love you so much.”

  And I always would, in this life and the next.

  I DON’T KNOW when the tears subsided.

  I'd been crying for days, but in the comfort of Owen’s arms, I found peace. He had become my home, my solace, the missing piece of myself I didn’t even realize I’d been missing. He was everything, and the mere thought of losing him had carved an irreparable hole in my heart. The pain that filled it over the last week had been debilitating, and I couldn’t look at him and see a future where I’d be happy without him. And that was why I ran. I needed to be able to process what his words meant: he was running out of time and there would come a point in the future when his arms would no longer possess the strength to hold me the way they could now. He wouldn’t be here to shower me with his kisses or whisper to me his affection.

  I needed to grieve for the love that I’d inevitably lose.

  And grieve I did.

  I’d spent the first few days at Drew’s apartment, buried under his covers on his bed with no desire to move, much less eat or function. Every night after finishing his shift at the library, he’d come home and crawl in beside me, pull me into his arms, and hold me until my body succumbed from exhaustion.

  “Oh, honey,” he’d whisper, kissing my head softly and rocking me gently to alleviate the uncontrollable shudders. And I’d hold him tightly, crying out my questions and confusion, wondering how life and fate could be so cruel. How they could give me a love that was everything only to rip it out from underneath me before it even had a proper chance to bloom.

  “You need to talk to him. You need to go to him, and you need to tell him you love him, Elle.”

  “How can I? How can I when I’m going to lose him, Drew?”

  “I know, but do you want to know what I think would be an even greater loss? Never being able to experience the love he is capable of giving you. Don’t make not going to see him and missing out on this time you can spend together a regret. Because you will regret it, Elle. And I promise you, that will kill you more than loving and losing him.”

  Drews words had stayed with me. So when I returned home to the loneliness that was my own apartment, I’d realized there was only one place I truly wanted to be: in Owen’s arms. At nearly midnight, I’d slipped out of my apartment and waved down the first cab that drove by, directing the driver to the upscale condo building across town. Sneaking past the nightly concierge—as I would’ve needed to be on the approved visitor list and I wasn’t sure Owen had ever added me—I jumped into the elevator and rode it nervously to the twenty-fourth floor. With my broken heart in my throat and tears in my eyes, I gathered all the courage I could find and knocked on his door.

  And then there I was.

  There he was.

  He’d scooped me up in his arms and I was finally right where I belonged—right where I’d always belonged.

  As we lay on his bed, I snuggled myself deeper into his side and pressed my cheek to his chest. His fingers made gentle sweeps through my hair, combing it away from my face. Neither of us spoke. Not at first. We allowed the darkness and the silence to consume us, focusing instead on each other: warm skin, shallow breaths, beating hearts—all signs that no matter what tomorrow or three months from now would bring, we were here now, together, alive and capable of loving without restraints, without regrets.

  “A penny for your thoughts?”

  I smiled sadly at his words, tilting my head back to catch a glimpse of those emerald eyes I loved so much. “I was just thinking about how life has a unique way of showing us what truly matters and how crazy it is that we fall in love with the most unexpected people at the most unexpected times.”

  “It is crazy, isn’t it?” He quirked a smile that didn’t quite make it all the way up his cheeks. “I ended up liking you a lot more than I had originally planned, Ms. Callihan.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Caldwell.”

  Shifting himself on his side and staring right at me, Owen slid his hand across my palm, lacing our fingers together. “I have a confession to make.”

  My heart sank. “Oh God, Owen. Please no. I don’t know that I can handle any more of those right now.”

  He ignored my request, speaking anyway. “If I had my life to live again, I’d find you sooner. I’d fall for you sooner. I’d love you sooner. I’d do all of those things, but in the end, it still wouldn’t matter because no amount of time spent with you could ever be enough.”

  I thought the tears had stopped, but they slowly trickled down my cheeks, soaking the pillow, and when Owen leaned in and caught the newly escaped ones with his lips, I tried hard not to fall apart. “Owen…”

  “Thirty-two years…thirty-two years and I have never felt as alive as I do when I’m with you.” He dipped his chin, and as his lips pressed softly and warmly against mine, my entire body sighed in relief at the silent promise the kiss held. It was a kiss that said “I can’t give you forever, but I can give you right now. I can love you with all of me until I can’t, and even then, I’ll still love you because a love like this is one that doesn’t falter; it’s eternal; it’s infinite.”

  “God, Elle,” he whispered against my lips. “I’m so in love with you.”

  Gently rolling me onto my back, Owen positioned himself over me, his hips pinning me to the mattress as he continued to kiss me tenderly—one hand still laced with mine beside my head, while the other slipped behind my neck, his thumb smoothing along the apple of my cheek causing my entire body to shiver.

  Up until that point, I had been scared to admit how much I loved him.

  Loving Owen came with risks. It meant giving him my heart while knowing he’d never be able to keep it safe—he’d never be able to preven
t it from the heartbreak it would eventually endure. Loving him meant I was giving him the power to completely destroy me.

  And, yes. Owen Caldwell was going to destroy me.

  He was going to break me apart until I was nothing but a million shattered pieces.

  And I was going to let him.

  Reaching up, I threaded my fingers through his hair and cupped the back of his head, kissing him with everything in me. “I love you, too.”

  Our tongues danced a sad waltz, and our hearts sung a sorrowful melody, and before either of us realized it, our hands were moving of their own accord, slowly removing the articles of clothing separating us. We needed this moment. We needed the closeness. We needed each other.

  A slow burning need simmered low in my belly, and as Owen crawled back onto the bed after stripping off his pajama bottoms and boxers, he started at my ankle, kissing his way up to my mouth. The feeling of his soft lips and his hot skin as it pressed against mine elicited a whimpered moan from me.

  With his dark green jewel-like eyes boring through mine and his strong arms surrounding me, Owen gently nudged my knees apart, and as he lowered himself and melded into my softness, I wrapped my legs around his waist. His erection lay hard against my inner thigh and the heat of him there, so close yet so far away, had my hands grabbing impatiently at his hips.

  Without warning, he slid into me, and the contact, the closeness, the way he breathlessly whispered “I love you” again, but this time in my ear, overwhelmed me.

  I couldn’t help it.

  Tears sprung to my eyes.

  Sensing something was wrong, Owen stilled, concern washing over his features. “Are you okay? What's wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”