Chapter 84 Until I’m Old and Gray
Kane
Seventy-five years old
Snow silently falling through a frosty window across a winter sunrise is Skylenna’s favorite sight.
I sneak as quietly as I can to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, hot chocolate, and warm her slippers and robe by the fireplace—dancing around the creaks in the floor.
Setting cast-iron pots down on the flame as carefully as I can without making a loud clatter.
I prepare the breakfast trays with my special handwritten notes I give her when I deliver a breakfast tray to bed.
I clean off the table on the balcony, set cushions on the seats, and ensure there is no ice that could cause her to slip and fall.
My wife is usually exhausted after family and friends stay at the castle. She’s the sweetest host, ensuring everyone is comfortable and fed, and loves hugging and kissing on all of our grandbabies.
But when they leave, I like to help her relax.
This is my favorite part.
I feel like a kid as I tiptoe up the stairs. Despite my stiff old bones and waning muscles, I am in quite good health for being in my seventies.
And the thought of seeing my beautiful soul mate smile so big at a winter morning just the two us gives me a spark of energy.
I open the door slowly, avoiding the slight squeak of the hinges rotating.
With a cup of hot chocolate in my left hand and her heated robe and slippers under my right arm, I kneel at her bedside, loving the sight of her sleeping so peacefully.
Her wavy white hair strewn across the pillow.
Those long, curly lashes forming shadows across her cheeks. Skylenna has aged like an angel.
“Good morning, honey.” I gently blow the steam and rich scent of chocolate to her face.
But she does not stir.
“Blueberry pancakes, eggs, and a bowl of oatmeal wait by the balcony door.”
I consider letting her sleep longer, but don’t want the food to get cold.
“And yes, I added cinnamon sticks to your hot chocolate.”
I blow the steam in her direction again.
A strand of white hair inches away from her face. And my back goes pin straight. The robe and slippers slide from my grip. I set the cup down on her nightstand.
“Time to wake up, honey.” I lean forward to kiss the tip of her ice-cold nose. “Don’t make me eat this delicious breakfast all by myself.”
Another kiss on her frigid cheek.
“Kane…” Dessin shoves his way to the front.
But I ignore him and continue staring down at my wife. Her plush lips are pale. Her chest is so terribly still. I kiss her again.
“Skylenna? I made you breakfast.”
A familiar pain and sense of denial bloom inside my throat like a bruise that will never fade. I fold my warm hand around hers and lose my breath at its temperature.
“Kane? I can take over now,” Dessin tells me quietly.
I shake my head.
Hope exhales its last as I kiss her knuckles.
“Honey, you’re going to sleep the day away.”
The other alters gather in a crowd of morbid individuals watching me try to wake my wife. They watch and pray, and their broken hearts suffocate me.
Wetness pools along my lashes before I can control myself.
“Please, wake up. Please,” I rasp.
My vision tightens at how still she is.
We were supposed to watch the snow fall today. We were going to drink hot chocolate and read our new books.
“Please, Kane, check her pulse.” Dessin’s deep voice sounds weaker and feebler than I have ever heard it.
I nod once. Sniffling before I press two fingers to her throat. The nothingness that comes from that touch snaps my last string of hope, popping loudly in my ears.
A pressure, hot and volcanic, hits me behind my eyes. I clasp her cold hands in mine and bring them to my lips, kissing each knuckle, each fingernail one last time. Harrowing heartache punches upward, and I begin to shake violently against the bed.
“Skylittle, you were supposed to tell me how much you love me this morning. Remember?” I am a little boy again, buckling under the weight of my cry, though, it is that of an old man now, hearty and full of a lifetime of longing for the woman I love so dear.
My face crumples as I fall against her.
With my head bowed, uncontrollable jerks rack my body.
“Thank you,” I sob quietly against my wife. “Thank you for being my sweetheart. For being the only woman I have ever loved.”
“Don’t do this alone,” Dessin says as he cannot contain his cry either. “I’ll take over so you don’t have to see this.”
“NO!” I bellow, eyes squeezing shut so hard, I see stars in the darkness behind my lids. “It’s Skylenna! Look at her! I won’t leave my Skylittle.”
Snot and tears cover the back of my hand as I try to pull myself together enough to say what I need to say.
“Thank you for loving all of us. Thank you for never making me feel ashamed for having dissociative identity disorder. Thank you for making me a hero when I thought we’d only ever be a villain.”
My soulmate looks just as beautiful today as she did the first day I met her when we were children. I choose to see that calm expression as sleeping.
“Thank you for loving me so passionately, Skylittle. I thought—I thought I was unlovable for so long. You were my greatest treasure. My most precious love. You gave me beautiful babies. You gave me lifelong best friends. My heart is so full, and I owe it all to you, honey.”
I spend a couple of hours right here, kneeling at the bedside of my sweetheart. I tell her I’ll take care of her castle until she greets me again in heaven. I promise to tell her children and grandchildren how much she loves them.
I ask her to hug DaiSzek for me.
I dissociate heavily but remain present.
I say my goodbyes.
Eventually, I stand up to walk around from my blood circulation being cut off from my knees. Dessin stays close to the front as I throw away the breakfast I made for her. As I dig her grave next to DaiSzek’s.
I don’t know when my children will be back again. A part of me hopes it isn’t for a while, so that I have time to put myself back together when I tell them their mother went to heaven.
But today, I hold her hand until I lower her into the ground, kissing her wedding ring before I let her go. And even then, I still don’t leave.
After seventy years of loving my beautiful Skylenna Winter Ambrose Valdawell, I will stay close until I’m old and gray.
And even then.