“Know what else?” he asked.
“What?”
“I heard this show is Wicked.”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“No?” He frowned and tried again. “But it’s o-pun-ing night.”
She laughed. “That one was better.”
“I thought of one for dinner, too.”
She grinned. “Let’s hear it.”
They came to a stop sign, and he looked at her seriously. “I’m soy into you.”
A twinkle entered her eye. “Are you pho real?”
“Udon even know.”
“You make miso happy.”
He couldn’t hold it together any longer and busted up laughing. “This goes without saying. But I’m saying it anyway. I love you.”
“Me too, handsome. Me, too.”
After dinner and the show, Andrew once again pulled to a stop in front of Lauren’s mailbox. He rolled down his window.
“Let’s check. Just in case.” He pulled open the metal door.
Lauren gasped beside him. “Andrew! There’s something in there! Get it!”
He chuckled at her excitement and grabbed the envelope. She nearly climbed on top of him to take it from him, but he leaned away.
“What are you doing? Give me my mail.”
“Easy. Let’s go inside first.”
“Why?”
He let off the brake and pulled into the driveway, careful to keep the card out of reach. He shrugged. “It’s too dark. Whatever it is, you probably won’t be able to see it out here.”
“Oh.”
Once they were inside, he handed her the card, hoping she didn’t notice how his hand shook.
She smiled as she took it from him, opening it as she walked to the living room. He came up behind her just as she slid the card out and began reading.
“Andrew? What is this?”
“What does it say?”
“It’s from your family? It’s blank inside except for everyone’s signatures. Your mom, sisters, your dad…even Alva. But I don’t get it—”
“Lauren.” He dropped to one knee. “Turn around.”
She did as he asked, and it took her a few seconds to look down and locate him. Her hand flew to her mouth, the card drifting to the floor.
He smiled. “What would you say if I asked you to marry me?”
She blinked, then slowly brought her hand down. “Is this another theoretical proposal?”
“No.”
Her eyes turned glassy, and her chin trembled.
He couldn’t stop looking at her. He thought he’d be nervous, but all he felt was excitement, anticipation. Like he had as a kid the night before Christmas, knowing the next day would be full of joy and wishes coming true.
He took one of her hands and reached into his pocket with the other. “I hope you’ll overlook the fact that I don’t have something from Tiffany’s to complete our New York date. Later, when I’m a big-time attorney and have all my medical bills paid off, I’ll get you that little blue box. I promise.” He held up a simple gold band. “For now…this was my grandmother’s. She died a long time ago, but you would have loved her. She and my grandpa were married for fifty years. I know she’d be happy for you to wear this, if you want it.”
The hand he held trembled, and her other one pressed flat against her abdomen. She blinked several times. “Andrew…” she whispered.
He swallowed. Blood rushed in his ears, and his heart pumped furiously in his chest. He so desperately wanted her to understand what he felt for her, and he could only hope this gesture did that. “Lauren, there aren’t words to describe what you mean to me. It defies explanation. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, funny woman I’ve ever met. You make me want to be a better person, and you’ve been a pillar of strength for me through the darkest time of my existence. I don’t know how long my life will be, but I know I want to spend every second with you. Will you spend it with me, whether two years or fifty, and be my distraction forever?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and he hoped that was a good sign.
“Full disclosure,” he added. “If you marry me, you’re gaining a family. A big, loud, overbearing, get-all-up-in-your-business family. But also a loyal, protective, loving one. Every name in that card is someone who cares about you and wants you to be part of that. You’ll never spend another holiday alone. You’ll always have a home to come back to.”
She sobbed once, the sound raw and unfiltered.
Now that he’d spoken his piece—stumbled through at least some version of what he wanted to say—he suddenly felt the claws of anxiety building inside his chest.
Still, he couldn’t tear his gaze from her beautiful green eyes as she searched his face.
She lowered herself down to her knees, bringing her face almost level with his. A ghost of a smile formed on her lips, but her expression remained solemn. “In my entire life, I’ve never been so sure of anything. I want to be with you now and always, no matter what happens to you or to me. I have to know that you understand that. That I want this—I want you—however I can have you. As a cancer patient or a cancer survivor, it doesn’t matter. I want all of it, with nothing held back. I want all of you for as long as I can have you.”
He inched closer to her face and let go of her hand, sliding his fingers through her hair. “Is that a yes?”
Her lips brushed his as she nodded. “Yes.”
He smiled then, and he thought this must be how superheroes feel. A surge of energy flowed through him, hot and magnetic, and he knew he could do anything. With that one promise from her lips, he could conquer the world.
Together, they could conquer anything.
…
It was almost a week later when Andrew received the call.
“Answer it.”
Andrew didn’t move, staring at the screen of his phone.
“If you don’t, I will.”
His heart pounded and his breath caught in his throat.
“Andrew!” Lauren tried to snatch the phone from his hand but he pulled away.
He swiped a shaky finger across the screen. “Hello?”
“Andrew? This is Dr. Patel, how are you?”
“I don’t know, you tell me, doc.”
He heard light laughter on the other end of the line. “I have great news. Your scan was completely clear, no evidence of lymphoma.”
Lauren sat stiff as a board beside him, her eyes wide and locked on his face, searching for any sign of what was happening. He couldn’t quite smile yet, processing what Dr. Patel said, but his eyes drifted closed and he slumped against the back of the couch. He felt Lauren’s hands grip his arm. “Really?”
“Really.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “We will need to perform surveillance labs and scans routinely over the next several years. But as of now, you’re cancer-free. And the odds are in your favor that you’ll stay that way.”
“Thank you, Dr. Patel. Thank you so much.” They spoke for a few more minutes before he ended the call.
He turned to Lauren, her expression pale and concerned.
“It’s gone,” he said.
“It is? You’re sure?”
“That’s what Dr. Patel said.”
The most beautiful smile he’d ever seen lit up her face, and she launched herself at him. His back hit the arm of the couch but he didn’t care, his arms clamping around her. She laughed, showering kisses all over his face. His heart felt like it could burst into a million pieces.
And for the first time since he’d met the love of his life, he allowed himself to really imagine his life with her.
Getting married and having children.
Growing gray hairs and traveling the world.
No matter what might fill their life, he’d be happy. Just as long as
she was his.
Because whether in this life or the next, he would be hers. Always.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
They got married in the outdoor courtyard of a church, surrounded by a small group of friends and family. Neither had wanted to wait long, and they saw no point in dragging it out just to plan a grand event.
Andrew’s parents and sisters were there, as were Lauren’s mom and dad. Her dad had been much more understanding about her decision to stay in Kansas City once he knew about Andrew. She’d have stayed either way but kept that to herself.
As they rode the elevator to the hotel suite they’d booked for the night, before leaving on a honeymoon to New York City the next day, Lauren relived the day in her mind. Everything had been flawless—from her dress, to the safe arrival of their family and friends, and the beautiful weather. Rhonda had even pulled her aside at the reception to welcome her to the family.
But above all, the most wonderful part had been the man who stood beside her, and who’d taken her hand and pledged to love her, protect her, and provide for her as long as they both lived. She peeked up at him now, still in his tuxedo, his thick brown hair swept back across his head. A light layer of facial hair covered his jaw, and her belly tightened. He’d asked if she wanted him to shave for the big day, but she’d said no. She loved that look on him, and it reminded her of the first day they’d met.
He must have felt her gaze, because he turned his head and looked down at her, his brown eyes soft. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and he took her by the hand and led her down the hallway. It was near midnight and not a soul was around. In silence, they entered their room and the door clicked shut behind them.
They faced each other, and Andrew brushed a hand across her bare shoulder, sweeping her hair back. “This was the first thing I noticed about you,” he said quietly. “I stood behind you and stared at it…and then you turned around and flashed those green eyes at me just for a second, and I was a goner.”
She shivered at the look in his eyes and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his jaw.
His large hands continued down her body. “This dress is beautiful,” he rasped. “And you look incredible in it. But I want it off.”
She smiled and turned her back to him. “If you’ll unbutton the back, I’ll change into something…else.” She’d asked Emma to put a small bag in the bathroom when their stuff was brought to the room, and she couldn’t wait to see Andrew’s reaction.
His fingers worked quickly, and she felt the bodice loosen around her torso. She pressed her hands against her chest and stomach to keep it from sliding to the floor, and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door. She changed quickly, carefully hanging her dress on the padded hanger Emma had left.
When she reemerged, she found Andrew sitting on the edge of the bed. He’d removed his jacket and sat in his white shirt and black slacks, his bowtie undone and hanging around his neck. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, his head bent.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He lifted his head, and a slow, seductive smile spread across his face as his gaze swept down her body. “You’re wearing scrubs.”
“Pink ones.”
His eyes didn’t leave her even for a second as she walked toward him. He was a little more subdued than normal, but in a way that was tender and focused.
“What were you thinking about, just now?” she asked.
His expression remained serious. “Lately, whenever I’m alone, I think about how lucky I am. I can hardly believe I’m here with you right now, as your husband. It seems too good to be true, and I want to do everything I can to show you how much I adore you.”
Lauren’s heart was so full, it almost hurt. She never could have imagined loving someone like this. She approached his legs and stopped between his thighs. Lifting her hands, she slid the bowtie from his collar with one hand and ran the fingers of her other through his soft hair.
“So show me,” she said, kissing him softly. “And let me show you, in return.”
He swallowed hard, and he tugged at the white string of her scrub pants. They fell loose immediately, drifting down her hips. His hands pushed them the rest of the way, and they pooled at her feet. She lifted her arms and he pulled the top off over her head, his hands searing her skin along the way.
In a single fluid motion he flipped her onto her back on the bed, hovering above her. His forearms and knees surrounded her, but his mouth was the only part that touched her. He kissed her slow and deep, then scooted back and stood at the foot of the bed. His eyes seemed to swallow her as he shrugged out of his shirt and then unbuckled his belt.
Her breath caught in her throat, and it felt as if the room had caught fire.
A moment later he rejoined her on the bed, and soon there was nothing between them, and they merged together, skin to skin. Eye to eye, gazing at each other, afraid to miss something. Soul to soul, coming together in a perfect dance that transcended words.
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Acknowledgments
This is surreal, to be sitting down to honor those who helped with my first published novel. I’m terrified I’ll leave someone out, and if I do, I hope you’ll forgive me.
Thank you to my sister Amber (I’ll never forget the first time you said “I’m proud of you”) and my friend, Fransen. You were the first people to tell me to keep writing. Author Darlene Graham, my mentor, who spent hours with me at coffee shops and in her living room, and without whom I’d never have made it this far.
My critique partners—Heather Gearhart, my first ever CP, and CPFL whether you like it or not, and the person I know is always in my corner and who helps me believe in myself. Denise Williams, who spends hours with me on Twitter talking through plot holes and character arcs and who challenges me to be a better writer—you make me laugh and you make me think, and you’re a photoshop wizard. The world isn’t ready for us.
I’m grateful to my agent, Andrea Cascardi, who took a chance on me, who makes my books better, and who was (and still is) always there to talk me through this crazy publishing process. To Entangled Publishing and Erin Molta, my editor, for believing this story was worth publishing and for every single suggestion that made this story what it is.
Thanks to my parents for always supporting me. Always. And my mother for painstakingly proofreading what I write before I send it to industry professionals.
To countless family and friends who read my early work and provided support along my writing journey, especially Jessica, Anne, Ashlie, Misty, Ashtin, Beth, Anna, Abby—I rely on your feedback and I’m indebted to you. To Mariah, for letting me steal several random things you said in clinic for this book. You’re my favorite. The wonderful providers and nurses I work with every day who inspire me, and many of whom are found within these chapters. Mandi, I still miss you and I haven’t quite forgiven you for moving. Thanks to Ashley Manning for making sure I didn’t make any glaring mistakes regarding a person going through law school (and if I still did, the fault is mine), and Alison Slotterback for fact-checking Kansas City bits (also, your name is spelled wrong).
Thanks to Rachelle Gardner, Lauren Smith, Barb Crews, and Hayley Elliott for their advice and support. To Carmen Falcone and Christine Glover, the editors I hired after I wrote my first novel—thank you for not laughing at me and for being the first to give invaluable advice that I carried on to write this one. Amy Harmon, who is one of my favorite authors and a kind, kind person who took the time to give me advice on writing from the heart.
It may sound silly, but thank you Twitter, for pitch events like #PitMad and for the #writingcommunity where I’ve met thousands of other weirdos like me who write stories about their imaginary friends. You’re my people. #TeamCarly, the #NaNoWriMo18 group who, more than a year later, still keep in touch and su
pport one another—I’ll always be thankful.
I couldn’t have done this without my husband, who takes the kids so I can have time to write, and doesn’t complain when I hide away in the dark, writing almost every (okay every) evening after the kids are in bed. You are in every hero I’ll ever write. Finally, I’m forever thankful to God for the gifts of creativity and perseverance, both of which were required for this dream to become a reality. I hope He’s pleased.
About the Author
Allison Ashley is a music-loving, coffee-drinking mom of two who loves love stories. She’s a clinical oncology pharmacist by day, and on the hard days her escape has always been books—specifically books about happiness, love, and laughter. She can think of nothing better than a world full of flirting, kisses, humor, and most of all, that coveted happy-ever-after.
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