Endless Love Letter (Love Letter Duet Book 2)

by Anderson, Callie

  Everything became a blur.

  * * *

  I don’t know how I got to the waiting area.

  And I don’t know how long I sat there, waiting for some type of answer.

  “Weston?” A nurse called out in the waiting room.

  I rushed off the chair.

  “She’s stable and asking for you.”

  I exhaled. “Do you know what caused this to happen?”

  “Dr. Marino will be here soon to discuss the details with you.”

  He led me through the hospital and to Emilia’s room. Her head was turned to the side, her gaze focused outside the window. As we approached, she wiped her tears away but wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “Doctor Marino will be in shortly to see you both.”

  “Thank you.”

  When he left, I dragged a chair closer to her bed. Reaching for her hand, I bowed my head. She was alive, she would be okay, but the image of her lying seemingly lifeless on the bathroom floor would haunt me for the rest of my life.

  Emilia gripped my hand. She sniffled and brought her free hand to my head. “I’m okay, Weston.”

  I nodded. She was okay. She was still here with me.

  * * *

  A tap on the door startled us both.

  Dr. Marino walked in with his long white coat and a kind face. “How are we doing?” He gave Emilia and I a soft grin.

  “I’ve had better days.” She shrugged. “What’s the verdict?” Her eyes were glued to Dr. Marino. She was trying to stay strong.

  “There’s a tumor on your right ovary.”

  Emilia rested her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes as he continued to speak. “We caught the uterine cancer at an early stage, but ovarian cancer is harder to detect because it shows no symptoms. At the time, there was no reason to remove your ovaries as there was no indication that you would develop ovarian cancer. Unfortunately, the mass is rather large and has spread into your pelvis.”

  My world was crumbling.

  Dr. Marino continued to talk but all I could hear was muffled sounds. God and I had an agreement. He wasn’t supposed to do this to her.

  We had made a deal.

  Emilia tugged on my hand and I shook the nightmare away. Dr. Marino had been talking to me. ”I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “I want to see her in my office first thing tomorrow morning. We can discuss in further detail the best plan of action.”

  “Thank you,” Emilia whispered. Her face was wet with her tears.

  “I’m going to get your discharge papers together and I’ll be back shortly to walk you out.”

  Dr. Marino walked out of the room, taking all my hope with him.

  * * *

  Emilia sat in the hospital bed as we waited for her to be discharged. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. Her mind was somewhere so far away that only her body remained in that room with me. I held her hand, hoping that she would confide in me. She inhaled slowly and looked over at me. Her eyes were dull, and I knew they matched mine.

  She released her grasp on my hand and ran it over my cheek. “Can you make sure Lyra follows her passion? I want her to go to school, but overall I want her to be happy, you know?” Her voice sounded robotic.

  “I know,” I lied. I wanted to jump out the window because breaking every bone in my body seemed less painful that what I was feeling.

  “Travel.”

  “What?” I shook my head, confused.

  “I wish I’d traveled more.” She swallowed and closed her eyes.

  “Em . . .”

  “I’ve never been to the Great Barrier Reef or been to the Sydney Opera House. I’ve never been to the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary in Bali, or had really good whiskey in Scotland.”

  I brought the back of her hands to my lips. “We will do all of that.” I kissed each one of her knuckles. “This is a bump in the road, but we will get through this.”

  Emilia looked at me and smiled, and her eyes filled with tears. “I love you so much.”

  “And I love you more.”

  21

  Denial.

  I refused to believe that Emilia was sicker than before.

  I refused to believe that we had spent months going through chemo for her only to get worse.

  The following morning, I got out of bed early to get Lyra ready for school before I had to take Emilia to Dr. Marino’s office. I tossed and turned the majority of the night, my mind on overdrive as I recalled what the doctor had said.

  This illness couldn’t have her. I wouldn’t allow it. They had caught it early. Emilia was young and we were going to fight.

  We had to fight.

  * * *

  Later that morning, Emilia and I sat on the leather chairs in the doctor’s office. Her eyes were hooded as she focused on the carpet. My thumb ran over her knuckles, calming my nerves. Dr. Marino walked in and greeted us, a manila folder tucked under his arm as he took a seat across from us. With heavy hearts and desperate for air, we listened to his plan. He wanted to start intraperitoneal chemotherapy right away.

  “This treatment allows a more concentrated dosage to go directly into your abdomen. We will have another port implanted in your stomach. This treatment works well, but the side effects will be more severe than your regular dose. It’s an uphill battle, but it will let you live longer and give a better chance of survival.”

  Emilia blinked rapidly. “What are my chances?”

  “In my professional opinion, I’d say you have a sixty–five percent chance of survival. But we don’t know much about this cancer. When you were first diagnosed this was never a concern. We have to look at this as a day–to–day, week–to–week case. Look how much has changed in only a few months.” He paused and Emilia nodded. “I’ll schedule you for another scan in a month and we can discuss more options then.”

  That wasn’t terrible odds. Sixty–five percent was a fighting chance, and Emilia was a fighter. We got through chemo, we would get through IP chemo.

  We left Dr. Marino’s office and headed straight to the chemotherapy center where she would get a new port installed in her body and have her first round of a stronger dose. Emilia didn’t speak, her face never changed from the blank stare. In the course of twenty–four hours she was notified that her cancer was back, she would be starting stronger chemotherapy sessions that would make her incredibly sick and had a sixty–five percent chance of survival. I was exhausted for her and it wasn’t even my body.

  The world around us was moving at a rapid speed but we were stuck.

  We were at the mercy of her treatment.

  Emilia returned from her port procedure on autopilot and sat on the recliner. Last time she was put under for her first port things were different, this time everything seemed rushed and urgent as they tried to get the chemo inside of her as quickly as possible. Timing was everything.

  She reached out for my hand when the nurse hung the new bag of IP chemo and it began to drip into her IV, Emilia did not say a word.

  Denial.

  This wasn’t happening. We didn’t go from just having six beautiful months together to sitting here in the cancer center . . . again.

  This wasn’t happening.

  This was the world playing a cruel fucking joke.

  * * *

  We arrived home later that evening, and though Emilia had been sick in the car, she was in good spirits. She sat at the kitchen table helping Lyra with her homework as I prepped and cooked dinner.

  After dinner, I was washing the dishes when I heard Emilia reading to Lyra in the bath. Her soft voice embellished certain parts of the story and Lyra giggled.

  Tapping on the door, Lyra gasped and dipped under the water. Emilia sat on the edge of the tub, her eyes hooded and I knew she was getting tired.

  I gave her a sideways grin. “Why don’t I finish up in here?”

  Emilia pushed off the tub and kissed Lyra on top of her head. “I’ll tuck you in once you’re all set for bed.”

  * * * />
  “Daddy!” Lyra called my name. Her book rested on my legs. “Did you fall asleep?”

  “No, I’m sorry.” I exhaled and wiped the sleep from my face. Emilia said she would be back to tuck Lyra in, but we had already moved on to the third book.

  Needing to go check on her, I finished Lyra’s bedtime story, sang her the lullaby I had written for her, and tucked her into bed.

  “Sweet dreams, my little princess.” I kissed the top of her head.

  “Good night, Daddy.” Lyra turned and hugged her HoHo. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Flicking the bedroom light off, I walked down the hallway to where our bedroom door was now shut. I tapped lightly and pushed it open. “Em?”

  She sat at her computer desk in the corner of the room. Startled, she gasped and swiveled the chair toward the door.

  “I’m sorry.” I rubbed my palm against my facial hair that had passed the five o’clock shadow mark. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay.” She pulled down her laptop screen, but the GoPro camera was still hooked on in front of her. “I was just looking something up real quick.”

  I gave her a small smile and nodded. “I’m gonna go downstairs and watch some TV. Come down when you’re ready.”

  Emilia nodded. When she was ready, she would come and tell me what she was doing. I pulled the door shut and waited a few seconds to see if my suspicions were right. Through the closed doors, I heard her speak.

  “Happy Birthday, my sweet little girl! I can only imagine how big you’ve gotten. I’m sorry I’m not there to spend your day with you, but I wanted to tell you about the day you were born and the love that I never knew existed until they placed you in my arms.”

  My knees buckled.

  She was recording a video for Lyra to see on her birthday. Her future birthday. A birthday Emilia didn’t think she would attend.

  “You were determined to come out early. You were on a mission to give Mommy the biggest scare of her life. You were born four weeks early, and when I held you for the first time, you grabbed onto my finger and immediately smiled. I was a mess, but by touching my hand, you erased all my doubts.” Emilia’s voice cracked and I knew she was crying.

  “Lyra, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. My biggest accomplishment was being your mother. You’re the most beautiful person I know, inside and out. Never change, Lyra. Continue to be the sweet, caring person you’ve been since the day you were born. The Lyra who makes people laugh, who’s friendly and loving. Continue to always be you. I love you very much, sweetie, and I hope you have a wonderful birthday.”

  I pressed my head against the door as my body slid to the ground. Emilia was preparing to say goodbye.

  I refused to let that happen.

  22

  The following morning, I woke up to the sound of heaving over the side of the bed. This time she was violently ill. She gasped for air as her lungs tried to catch her breath. She whimpered and cried from the pain before she began to heave again.

  I was useless.

  I couldn’t do anything other than rub her back. This disease was taking everything out of her. Her ribs were defined under her skin as she had lost so much weight. “It’s okay, Em. You’re going to be okay.”

  Closing my eyes, I tried to remember a better time. The moment I wanted something much more with her.

  The music blared through the speaker. The DJ scratched the track and the bass changed. She had sat next to Axel the entire night, her petite body swaying to the beat of the song, never batting an eye at me. She was cold, her chin held high as she ignored me. She was as beautiful as the first day I’d met her at Starbucks.

  When she began to dance to the Spanish song, I couldn’t resist. I stood, ignoring what Axel was saying, and walked right up to her. “Dance with me.” I extended my hand to her.

  Her chocolate brown eyes locked with mine. She hesitated, gnawing on her lower lip for a few seconds before placing her hand in mine.

  Leading her to the center of the dance floor, I twirled her around and brought her close to me. Her lower back fit perfectly beneath my hand. I brought my cheek to the side of her head. Her toxic scent of lavender invaded my senses.

  Pulling away, I looked down at her. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She smiled up at me.

  I was fucking doomed. This girl was everything I wanted.

  “You’re back.” I stated the obvious.

  “I am.” I noticed her chest rise and fall.

  “Miss me?” A smile grew wide on my face.

  “No.” Her lips pouted. “Why, did you miss me?” Before I could answer yes, she asked, “Did you ask me to dance or to talk?”

  I chuckled and pulled her flush against my body. “Show me what you got.”

  Emilia pushed herself up on the bed and sat back on her pillow. Her eyes were bloodshot and tearing. Her skin was blotchy with red marks around her neck and chest due to the force of her heaving.

  “I’m okay.” Her voice was hoarse.

  I grabbed her hand firmly. “You’re so strong, so brave, and each day I love you even more.”

  Emilia’s hand cupped my cheek. Her thumb grazed against my prickled hair. “If I am strong, it’s because I have you behind me.” She coughed and swallowed back. “Every day you continue to push me. I want a life with you. I want our family, and that’s why I’ll fight.”

  Turning my face, I pressed my lips to the palm of her hand.

  She was my fighter.

  * * *

  IP chemo really was worse than regular chemo. Emilia couldn’t get out of bed, she slept most of the day, and her appetite was gone. The fire that had been inside her before, the one that sparked through her eyes, had left.

  Leslie and my mother took turns caring for Lyra as I sat at Emilia’s bedside. With each grunt or moan, I begged God to please heal her. It was painful to watch the person I loved become almost unrecognizable.

  “Wes.” Her hoarse voice awoke me. I had spent the last seven days by her side, and it was the first time she had slept through the night without complaining of any pain. Her soft snores had soothed me into a deep slumber.

  “You okay?” I pushed off the bed.

  “Hey.” She reached up and placed her hand on my shoulder. “I’m okay.” She smiled up at me. “I want to go to the beach.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I want to feel the sun on my skin.”

  I leaned in and placed a warm kiss on her forehead. “I’ll go wake up Lyra.”

  After we ate breakfast, I got the car packed for a day at the beach. Emilia had insisted we go to her spot. Though there was a beautiful beach only a few feet from her own backyard, she wanted our spot by the pier.

  With the windows down and the radio blasting, we drove to the Santa Monica pier. Emilia had a scarf over her head to protect her skin from the sun. She sat on the blanket in the sand and watched us as Lyra and I ran around with a soccer ball. The smile on her face was breathtaking. Though she was physically too weak to play, she laughed when Lyra laughed, and she watched when we made sandcastles.

  After I had built Lyra a fort and we stopped playing in the sand, we joined Emilia on the blanket for a small lunch.

  “Lyra, you can only play with your kite if you finish your fruit.” Emilia brushed away the loose tendrils on Lyra’s face.

  I pulled the kite out of the tote and handed it to Lyra after she shoved that last slice of apple into her mouth. I sat back on the blanket and Emilia lay so the sun hit her face.

  “This is worth it,” Emilia said. Lyra had started assembling her kite.

  “What is?” I asked. Laying on the blanket, I turned to the side to face her. Emilia’s eyes were shut and her skin was warm from the heat.

  “All the pain that I feel, the aching joints, the heaving until my throat is sore, losing my hair and losing massive amounts of weight.” She cleared her throat and filled her lungs with air. “Fighting for another day, another day li
ke today, another day that I get to live, another day worth living. All that pain—it’s all worth it because of days like today.”

  I moved until I was on top of her body, my hands at her sides holding my weight. Gently I lowered my lips to hers. “You have no idea how happy I am with you.”

  “Daddy!” Lyra shouted for me. “It won’t go up!”

  I pressed my lips against Emilia’s. “Hold that thought.” She giggled.

  I jogged to Lyra’s side. “Okay, Lyra. I’m going to hold this end.” I held the kite up for her. “You’re going to hold onto that string and run as fast as you can. Okay?”

  Lyra shielded her eyes from the sun and gave me a thumbs up. “You got it!”

  I held the kite as high overhead as my arm would allow. “Ready. Set. Go!”

  Lyra pushed off the sand her wild, crazy hair flying in the wind as she ran with all her might.

  “That’s it, Lyra!” Emilia shouted.

  “Give a little on the string!” I bellowed.

  The wind caught underneath the kite and lifted it up in the air. Flying high, it bobbed and weaved in the sky.

  “I did it!” Lyra jumped with joy.

  I sat back on the blanket and brought Emilia into my arms. Holding her the way I did the first time she had brought me here, we watched Lyra flyher kite.

  “Tell me about yourself?” Emilia rested her head on my shoulder. I kissed the side of her head, remembering the same question I had asked her so many years ago.

  She had been so quiet on the way over and after taking her to an abandoned restaurant, I figured she would never give me a second date.

  “Tell me about yourself?” I asked.”

  “There isn’t much to say. You know where I come from, who my friends are, who my parents were.”

  “No.” I inhaled her sweet scent and hugged her tighter. “That’s the basics. I want to know the real Emilia. What runs through your mind when nobody’s listening?”