by Katie Fox
Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to my forehead as his thumbs came up to collect the fresh drops that had fallen. “Why are you crying, huh?”
“It’s just so much.” I sniffed back my emotion and glanced down at the book now sitting beside us on the worn, weathered deck. “Seeing this, reading it…I thought I was going to lose you that day.”
Picking the book back up, I flipped to that page and read where I had left off...
With tears streaming down my face, I gathered every ounce of strength I could find and pushed myself up, bringing my face to his and kissing him softly. I choked back another sob, whispering against his lips. “I’m going to give us an alternate ending. I promise.”
Running my hands through the soft strands of his hair, I kissed every feature on his handsome face: his eyes, his nose, his cheeks. I trailed my lips over his jaw and then placed another kiss on his mouth. I stared at him with an ache in my heart until I was sure each and every line and curve were forever sealed in my memory, and then I scooted back down, curling into his side and hugging him.
Lying there, I thought about how much I loved him and how painfully beautiful love could be, how it not only opened our eyes but how it opened our hearts, how it gave us hope in a sometimes hopeless world, and how it challenged us to be better, reminded us that at the end of the day all we were was human and how lucky we were to feel such emotion.
“I love you, Owen Caldwell. I love you so much. Always.”
In the peaceful silence of the room, I drifted off to sleep. I dreamed of what spending a lifetime with Owen would be like, and even in my subconscious state, I cried. I cried for the love we shared and the future we’d never get to experience together. I cried for the man who had become a part of me, the man who believed in me when I struggled to believe in myself, and the man who had made it his priority to give me everything, including a love that was unconditional.
In my dreams, we had forever.
It wasn’t until a short time later that I awoke. A gentle hand smoothed up my back and if it were not for the series of tingles dancing across my skin and the flutter of wings swarming in my stomach, I would've refused to acknowledge whoever it was now in our presence.
“At the very least…there are about a quarter of a million words in the English language—”
My eyes flew open and my head snapped up, my breath hitching as those familiar words hit my ears, their sound and the gravelly voice they were delivered on like a lost melody I’d been longing to hear.
“And yet somehow...there still aren’t nearly enough to express how much in love with you I am.”
“Owen!” Fresh tears spilled as relief and happiness flowed through every cell in my body, and I scrambled to sit up, careful to avoid the wires making it difficult for him to move. Cradling his face gently in my hands, I crushed our lips together. “Oh God. I thought I was going to lose you. I thought—”
“Shh…” He continued to kiss me—deeply, desperately, passionately—his weak arms coming up and circling around me. Despite his lacking strength, he felt warm and solid, and he gripped me as if he were never going to let me go. I cried. He cried. I cried some more, unable to stop the release of emotion and not even wanting to. With his fingers tangled in my hair and his forehead pressed flat against mine, he held my watery gaze. “I’m not going anywhere just yet,” he gritted, letting out a small choking sound. “I’m not going anywhere until I’m done loving you, and I’m not done loving you, Elle Callihan. Do you understand me? Not even fucking close, baby.”
My entire body shook, shook from his words, from the feel of his lips on mine, and from the look in his beautiful green eyes that only minutes ago I’d feared I’d never again see.
A few days later and with a whole host of new prescriptions, Owen was finally cleared to go home. He’d been discharged from the hospital on direct orders to take it easy as much as possible and to simply enjoy life. There was no change to his initial diagnosis or the time he had left, but that was the entire point: he had more time. Time to smile. Time to laugh. Time to dance. We spent every second loving the life we had together and the memories we were creating. We went to work some days, while others we worked from home. We continued to work closely with Liam and the rest of the team in L.A. on the upcoming release of the Bower manuscript, something Owen wouldn’t be around to see successfully come into fruition, and I tried not to think about it, instead pouring my thoughts and emotions into crafting my own stories. Much to Owen’s satisfaction, I made an effort to spend at least an hour each day writing. He would take that time to get lost in a book, all the while secretly watching me from above the pages, and I’d smile to myself, secretly watching him, too, stealing glances at the man who owned so much more than my heart.
Days passed and with each new week we lost, I prayed harder and harder for a miracle, yet nothing changed, but that’s the thing about change. The moment before it happens, it feels like any other moment.
It was a Tuesday morning when we got the call from Dr. Marx, Owen’s oncologist. We hadn’t been sure what to expect. Usually, his calls were courtesy calls to check and see how Owen was feeling, but they always ended the same way. They were a heavy, constant reminder that his life clock was ticking and his minutes were slowly dwindling. Everything about this call, though, was different. I sensed it the moment Owen answered the phone.
I stood back, my shoulder pressed against the doorframe of the bathroom for support, watching and listening for any clues as to what information was flowing through the other half of the line as Owen walked aimlessly around his bedroom. He gave nothing away, not at first. It wasn’t until his spine straightened and his head snapped toward me that the uneasiness in my stomach swirled faster. My heart started to beat quicker and my pulse kicked up several notches, spreading an uncomfortable prickly heat over my skin.
“Yeah. Of course. No, I understand. I’ll talk to Elle and I’ll call you back. Okay. Yes. Thank you.”
He slowly pulled his phone from his ear and disconnected the call, the expression on his face completely unreadable. Setting his phone on his nightstand, he dragged his hands through his hair and sat down, his eyes flicking to mine. “Elle, baby, we need to talk.”
Dread crept up my spine as I walked timidly to where he sat on the bed. Sitting down beside him, I swallowed around the sudden knot in my throat, willing the air in the room to somehow work its way past it and fill my lungs. “What’s going on?”
Owen took my hands in his, his gaze cast downward as he smoothed his thumbs over my skin, the muscle on his jaw ticking. “That was Dr. Marx.”
I struggled to keep my tone steady when every part of me was trembling with fear. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. There is, um…” His chest fell on a harsh breath, and he shook his head as if he were trying to gather all the right words. “There’s a clinical trial that has become available, and it just so happens I’m a perfect candidate. He said I fall within all the requirements and that it would involve surgery and several intense and aggressive rounds of chemo, but…”
“But?”
His eyes finally met mine, and the tears lining their surface only made the emotion swirling behind them that much more prominent. “Dr. Marx said there is absolutely no guarantee, but if successful, it could potentially prolong my life by fifteen to twenty years, possibly longer.”
“What?” My breath hitched causing the word to break. Tears fell before I’d even realized they formed, and my heart soared at what he was saying, at the hope spilling from his mouth. “Owen, are you telling me—”
“I’m going to do it, Elle.” He took my face in his hands and kissed me. The kiss was wet and salty and desperate. There was so much desperation in the way his mouth moved against mine, so much hope. “I don’t care what it takes.” He spoke against my lips, holding me tightly to him. “I’ll do anything, anything, for a chance at a future with you.”
Closing the book and setting it beside me, I glanced at Owen, rememb
ering the overwhelming emotion we’d both felt that day and then again, four months later, when we learned he was responding positively to the treatment. It was that same day that we’d found a new reason to count, only this time, we weren’t counting down the days to the end of his life, we were counting every single day he lived.
And that’s exactly what we decided to do…live.
Life happened in a blink, and Owen didn’t want to waste even a second more. As soon as he’d been well enough, he brought me to Callihan’s Pier, and while the setting sun cast its glow over the water, he dropped down on one knee. I’d stood still, my eyes round and my heart slamming against my chest.
“At the very least, there are about a quarter million words in the English language. I want one of them from you. I don’t want you to think about your answer. I just want the first word that enters your mind. Okay?”
I’d nodded slowly, a weakness in my knees making it difficult to stand, and whispered softly, “Okay.”
Reaching into his pocket, he’d pulled out a small blue box, and when he opened it, revealing a beautiful diamond solitaire, I gasped. Our eyes held. “I love you, Elle Callihan, and while I still can’t promise you forever, I want to promise you right now and every single one of my days. I want to give you everything, baby, as long as you’ll let me. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation. I fell to my knees, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him hard as tears of joy and happiness spilled down my cheeks. “Yes, I will marry you. I love you so much.”
We were married three months later in the same spot, surrounded by close friends and family, the ocean and the setting sun as our backdrop, as we promised to love each other through sickness and health until death do us part.
And now here we were...
Looking out at the horizon, I smiled at its beauty. One day in the future he would be watching over me from that very spot, but today…today was not that day. As I turned back toward him, a look passed over his face that was so tender it caused my heart to clench.
He swiped away a few more tears before dropping his hands to my swollen stomach, a smile spreading across his handsome face as he felt our baby kick. Two more months. Two more months and we’d be holding her in our arms. Two more months and I’d be falling in love all over again with Owen Caldwell as I watched him fall in love at first sight with our little girl. My heart burst at the thought and at the intense love I had for him, wondering how it could possibly grow any deeper. It seemed impossible, but possible was Owen’s middle name.
“Guess I didn’t have to write us an alternate ending after all.”
He gazed at me lovingly before pulling me into his lap and wrapping me up in his arms, his lips soft and gentle against my forehead “No. Fate decided to do that for us.”
Four years later…
“HOPE CALDWELL! GET your tiny hiney in here, little woman. It is time for bed.”
A bundle of blonde waves and blue eyes stumbled sleepily through the door, and I smiled at the beauty of my little girl. She was a mirror image of her mother, and her stubbornness, which shone through in her personality a little more every day, was just another one of Elle’s traits.
Reaching down and scooping her up in my arms, I carried her over to her bed, frowning as my gaze rolled over her face. “What’s wrong, huh?”
“I miss Mommy.”
With her still perched on my hip, I pulled back her blankets and sheets and set her down on the mattress. I sat beside her. “I know, sweetheart. I miss her, too, but Mommy is at a book signing. She’ll be home tonight, and you can see her first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.” She looked up at me with those big blue eyes, something swirling beneath their surface. “Daddy, can you please read me a story?”
I glanced at the clock, realizing it was almost an hour past her bedtime, and sighed defeatedly, holding up a finger. “Just one. Your mother is going to have my neck.” My balls were more like it, but Hope knew how to play the sweet card, and she played it well. That little girl had me wrapped right around her finger, much like the way I was wrapped around her mother’s. “Hurry up. Go get one.”
She quickly scrambled off the bed, darting out of the door and down the hall toward the library. She returned moments later with a larger-than-life grin on her little face, and if she wasn’t so innocently cute, I’d almost be convinced there was a wicked smirk lying beneath it. Without saying anything, she climbed back onto the bed and set the book in my hands, my brows shooting up my forehead as I looked at Elle’s first published book: Our Alternate Ending. “Hope, sweetie…”
“It’s yours and Mommy’s story, right? How you fell in love?” She batted those thick, full lashes of hers and smiled sweetly.
Lord help me.
“Yeah. Yeah it is, honey, but, uh”—I set the book down on her nightstand, wondering how Elle managed to dodge her persistence night after night, and picked up Hope’s copy of The Princess and the Pea—“this is one story you’ll have to read when you’re older. Much, much older. Like when you’re in your fifties older. I’m afraid your mother was a little too liberal with her storytelling when it came to certain…things.”
As Hope slid under the covers, her little nose scrunched and a pout formed on her pink lips. “No fair. That’s a long, long time.” Turning her chin upward in a defiant manner, she crossed her arms over her chest dramatically, and I chuckled.
Yep. She was just like her mother. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Pulling the blankets up and tucking them in around her shoulders, I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “It may seem like a long time now, but take my word for it, it happens in a blink.”
“Okay, Daddy. I’ll take your word for it.” She flashed me a toothless grin, and I melted into a huge sap. This is what I had been reduced to.
“I’ll tell ya what. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the big library at Caldwell Publishing. How does that sound?”
Her eyes went round. “Promise?”
“Pinky promise.” I held my pinky finger out and she wrapped her little one around it. “But first we’re going to read about a princess and her pea, and then you’re going to get some much-needed sleep, okay?”
She gave me a small nod and shifted on to her side, listening as I read aloud. By the time I’d finished reading the third page of the story, her chest was rising in shallow waves and she was snoring softly in much the same way her mother did. I set the book down on her nightstand and stared at her for a few minutes, my fingers brushing away the blonde strands resting on her smooth cheeks. She was my world. Her mother was my world, and I was thankful for every single day I got to be a part of theirs.
“She tried pulling a fast one on you, didn’t she?”
My head snapped up at the sound of Elle’s voice, and as my eyes met hers, I felt that familiar tug in my heart whenever I looked at her. There was my gorgeous wife. “Yeah. She did. She’d asked if I would read her a book, so I told her to go grab one and she came back with yours.” I smirked, my lips tugging to one side of my face. “I think maybe we need to move them up a few shelves so they are out of her reach.” I rose to my feet and walked over to where Elle stood in the doorway and wasted no time in pulling her into my arms. “God, I’ve missed you.” I dropped my mouth to hers, and as our tongues met in the middle, stroking and tasting as if it had been years since the last time they’d danced, we both inhaled in unison. My grip on her tightened, and I dragged her closer, a heat swirling low in my stomach at the feel of her against me. “I’ve missed you so damn much.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
I rested my forehead against hers, my fingers splayed across the small of her back. “You’re home early. How did the signing go?”
“Yeah, I am. We finished a bit earlier than we thought, but it was great. We had a wonderful turnout.” She smiled that beautiful, breathtaking smile of hers. “You know, it’s crazy. There are some days when
I can’t believe this is my life. I can’t believe readers are actually coming to see me. It’s surreal. I just wish you could’ve been there.”
“I’ll be at the next one. I promise.” I held her eyes, seeing the happiness there. “I don’t know that I’ve said it lately, and even if I have, I’m going to say it again. I am so damn proud of you.”
A red blush bloomed on her cheeks, and she shook her head as if dismissing my praise. “It’s all because of you. You’ve given me everything I could’ve ever wanted, Owen. My dreams, all of them, are coming true because of you, and I love you so much.” She paused for a moment before brushing her nose against mine. “I love you, Mr. Caldwell.”
I kissed her softly. “I love you, Mrs. Caldwell.”
With a look of contentment on her face, she broke away from my hold and walked over to Hope’s bedside, and as I watched her lean down and kiss our little girl, my heart swelled within my chest. Christ, I loved her. I loved them so much, more than I ever thought physically possible.
Flipping the light switch on the wall and sauntering back over to me, Elle grabbed my tie and gave it a little tug before whispering against my lips. “What do you say you take me to bed, tie me up, and show me just how much you’ve missed me.”
My dick practically jumped in my pants at her invitation, and I leaned down, catching her beneath her thighs and hauling her against my chest. She released an excited little squeal as I carried her down the hall with an urgency in my strides, entered our room, and kicked the door shut with my foot. Setting her down on her heels, I dropped to my knees, pressing my mouth to her swollen belly and kissing it gently. “How is my little guy doing today, huh?”