41. Gabrielle
Gabrielle
I can’t believe I’m engaged.
The thought keeps playing on a loop in my mind like it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Like I’m still trying to convince myself it’s real.
I glance down at the ring on my finger, twisting it gently, feeling its weight, feeling his love wrapped around me.
I had no clue he was going through all this work secretly to make this happen. And that seems to make it even more special. Even while fighting for his life, he was thinking about a forever with me.
I turn my head just in time for Kinsley to grab me, squealing, and pulling me into a tight hug. “Gabrielle! You’re getting married!”
A laugh bubbles up in my throat as I hug her back, and suddenly, we’re both jumping up and down, giggling like we’re teenagers.
Wes groans. “The estrogen is so loud.”
Kinsley smacks his arm without missing a beat. “Shut up, you’re just jealous because no woman is ever going to marry you.”
Wes smirks, raising a brow. “Maybe one day you will.”
The entire room goes silent.
Kinsley freezes, eyes slightly widened.
I blink, shifting my gaze between them, and when I glance at Cam, he’s looking at me with the same wide-eyed, confused expression I’m giving him.
Wes looks around at all of us before scoffing, running a hand through his hair. “Whatttt? I’m joking.”
Cam and I exchange another glance, smirking.
Yeah, right.
The energy in the room shifts back to excitement, everyone reliving the proposal, hugging me, hugging Cam.
His parents, my mom, Wes, and Kinsley all take turns making sure we know just how happy they are for us. But as the night winds down, so does the high.
Cam’s parents hug me tightly before they leave, promising they’ll be back tomorrow. My mom squeezes my hands, giving me a look only a mother can before she kisses my forehead and follows them.
When I shut the front door, I exhale, pressing my back against the wood.
It’s quiet now. Just me and Cam, and when I turn my head, I find him sprawled on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the back, his long legs stretched out in front of him. There’s a basketball game playing on the TV, but he’s not paying attention to it. He’s watching me.
“Still shocked?” he asks, amusement laced in his tone.
I push off the door, walking toward him. “Maybe a little.”
His lips twitch up into a smirk as he watches me approach, and when I get close enough, he pulls me into his lap. His hands find the curve of my waist where they’ve always fit so perfectly, as if my body was designed to be held by him.
I wrap my arms around his neck. “You really caught me off guard tonight, you know.”
He hums, tilting his head up at me. “Good. You always were so hard to surprise. You always knew my next move before I even knew I was going to make it.”
I shake my head, my fingers sliding down to trace the sharp line of his jaw. “I still can’t believe that while you were going through everything in the hospital, you were planning this too.”
“Forever with you has always been the plan, Gabrielle.”
My heart swells as Cam shifts, adjusting his hold on me before suddenly standing, lifting me in his arms like I weigh nothing.
I laugh, clinging to his shoulders and shifting to wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us toward the kitchen.
Gently, he places me on the island counter, standing between my legs.
He grips my hips, his thumbs stroking the sides, his gaze burning into mine. “I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Gabrielle Hayes.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “You’re so eager to, huh?”
“Can you blame me?”
I can see the exhaustion settling behind his playful gaze. He looks good—better than he has in weeks. But I know he’s still pushing himself.
I reach up, cupping his face. “I know you’re excited to be home, but try to take it easy, okay? You still need to rest.”
He exhales, reluctantly nodding.
I glance around, spotting the small bottle of lotion sitting in the basket we brought to the hospital during his chemo sessions. I grab it, then tilt my head. “Come on. Let’s go lie down. I’ll rub you, and we’ll just relax for the rest of the night.”
His eyes darken as he smirks. “What kind of massage are we talking about? Is there a happy ending situation or—?”
I roll my eyes and smack his arm lightly. “Cam.”
He groans dramatically. “No fun.”
I laugh, and before I can argue, he scoops me up again, carrying me into the bedroom while I clutch onto him.
He sets me down once we’re inside his room, and I set the bottle down, turning to him. “Take your shirt off.”
His brows shoot up. “Bossy.”
I shoot him a look, and he grins, lifting his shirt and tossing it onto the floor. Then I hook my fingers into the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down until he’s left in just his black boxer briefs. “Lie down.”
Cam flops onto the bed, sighing in contentment as he stretches out. I climb onto the mattress, straddling the back of his thighs, and pour the lotion into my hands before smoothing it over his back, starting at his shoulders and working my way down.
His muscles are tight and tense, but as I massage, I feel him slowly relax beneath me.
After a few moments, his voice breaks through the quiet. “So…what kind of wedding do you want?”
I pause, smiling at the thought. “I’m not sure, maybe just something simple?”
He chuckles. “You used to say you wanted some elaborate, fairytale-type wedding with, like, five hundred people, performers, the whole shebang.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I think I’ve outgrown that. I’d be happy just going to the courthouse with you tomorrow.”
His head tilts slightly, so I can see his smirk. “Yeah?”
I nod. “But I know our friends and family would kill us for that, so…something small. Intimate. Somewhere outside the city, maybe somewhere by the water after you’re better.”
Cam hums in approval. “Sounds perfect, except—,” he pauses, debating what to say, “I don’t think I want to wait that long.”
“Cam—”
“Listen, I know you have faith for the both of us that I’ll get better—but—if I don’t. If my time is limited. I want to at least marry you before I’m gone.”
“I need you to stop talking like that, Cam,” I argue, not wanting to accept any other possibility. “We have our whole lives ahead of us.”
Cam shifts underneath me, flipping onto his back. He pulls me up towards him, his hands finding the back of my neck as he gazes up at me.
“Gab,” he murmurs, bringing one hand up to trace my face, brushing some of my hair behind my ear.
I lean into his touch, waiting.
“I want to die your husband. Whether that’s in a couple of months or sixty years from now, okay?”
As the emotion swells in my chest, all I can do is whisper back, “Okay.”
His eyes search mine before he pulls me down, capturing my lips in a slow, emotionally soothing kiss. And as I kiss him back, I silently promise him that no matter how much time we have, I’ll spend every second loving him.