Chapter 35 #3
In some twisted way, we felt closer now than before the cancer. He stayed when so many men would have left. Never doubted me. Never made me feel unwanted. Never made me feel small or cheated on me.
Dark thoughts still crept in sometimes. That maybe it was too good to be true. That maybe he was still here by my side because he was making up for something. Guilt. Or hiding something. But those thoughts were my own shame talking and unfair to this amazing man. So I shoved them away.
“Am I hurting you?” Brian asked, stopping cold.
My head shook fast. No, I shaped with my lips. I love you.
He understood and nodded once.
His eyes flicked to the door again, then he leaned in and pressed his face into my shoulder once more.
My nails dug into him, pulling him closer and holding him there. Pressure built inside me, which was surprising. Most of the time, my body didn’t cooperate anymore. Most of the time, the closeness of feeling him inside me mattered more than the glorious end.
But this time felt different.
Today it would work.
He rocked faster, and as if life was granting me one last small gift, we came at the same time.
A silent scream escaped my lips, and my body tightened, then melted beneath him in hot waves.
His body twitched a few times, then he rolled off to the side, staring at the ceiling.
A tired laugh shook my chest. I tapped his shoulder, then pointed between us, trying to tease.
We still got it, I mouthed.
“Yuuuup,” he said, eyes back on the ceiling. Empty, almost bored.
My fingers dragged slowly over his back.
Happy, yet also heartbroken.
I was dying. I knew it. I should have been dead a long time ago. So every second with my family, with this man, meant everything to me.
Guilt crept in when I thought about what they’d been dragged through because of me.
Months of hell. The world branding me a murderer.
My mother pushing herself to the edge of a heart attack just to keep me breathing.
Almost getting killed herself. My kids never pulled away.
Never stopped loving me. And Brian never doubted me either.
Then my best friend finally believed in me again. Paid for a lawyer who finally got me out.
The cancer brought a lot of fears.
But none bigger than those concerning my family.
Would they be okay? Would Brian fall apart after I was gone? Start drinking again? Would the kids lose their mother and their father too?
My mother had always struggled with her blood pressure. Would she have the strength to carry all this for years to come? Would they all become tragedies of the life I left behind?
My life was borrowed. An extension somehow granted by the devil or God. Who knew. It didn’t matter. Because whoever had granted me more time also gave me one more gift. One I hoped for more than anything.
When I was gone, Brian would find happiness again, with another woman. Someone steady and kind. Someone strong enough to hold him together.
And that woman was Amanda.
I tapped Brian’s shoulder. He looked at me, curious.
I pointed toward the door.
“Your mom?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Dylan? Lila?”
Again, no.
“Amanda?”
The name came last. More careful.
I nodded.
Something shifted in his face. His eyes narrowed as he searched mine. I pointed at him first, then lifted both hands. One finger held up for Amanda. One for him. Slowly, deliberately, I hooked my two fingers together. Showing unity.
He stared at my fingers. Then back at me.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Stop it.”
My jaw tightened. I folded my arms across my chest. Then I repeated the gesture. Firmer this time. Insisting.
An angry huff slipped out of him.
He rubbed his palm over his mouth, exhaled, then nodded almost too fast.
“Okay,” he said. “But only for you. If you really, really want this.”
The tension drained from my face. My shoulders eased. A small nod followed, then a soft smile.
He smiled back. “Okay.” Then he looked away. “Can you …” he began cautiously. “Can you make sure you tell Dylan about this, though? So he knows it’s what you wanted? I mean me and Amanda together.”
I nodded, and Brian pulled me closer. His breath was warm against my skin.
My eyes closed, and for a moment it felt as if I could die right here, right now. In peace.
Knowing my kids and my husband would be okay after my death was the most precious thing a dying mother and wife could ever have.
I thanked whatever force was out there for every breath I still had in me.
Soon, I would die a free woman.
Declared innocent.
A victim, not a monster.
A loved and loving mother.
A loved and loving daughter.
A loved and loving wife.
And, maybe sometimes, when daylight faded and the night settled quietly over an endless sky, one of them would look up. Standing still. Hands tucked into their pockets as the stars glittered above.
Their thoughts would drift to me, wondering if one day we would meet again. Somewhere among the stars.
Then my last words would come back to them.
Just because my body isn’t with you doesn’t mean my heart and soul left too.
I’m right here.
And I always will be.