Gabrielle
Being back at work feels wrong.
I should be happy to be back. I love my job. I always have. But today, every appointment, every conversation, every passing moment just feels like I’m going through the motions—smiling at pet owners, reassuring nervous animals, pretending like my world isn’t falling apart.
I knew coming back after a month off would be an adjustment, but I didn’t expect it to feel like this. So—Empty.
Even worse, Kinsley is off today, so I don’t have her here with me to keep me sane, to make inappropriate jokes in the break room when I need them most.
By the time my shift is over, I’m exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally and mentally. I don’t know how to be back in the real world when the real world feels like it’s on a mission to take everything I love away from me.
I don’t even remember the last time I slept in my own apartment. Because I don’t want to be anywhere he isn’t anymore.
So when I pull back into Cam’s parking garage, stepping inside the place that feels more like home than my own, I’m able to breathe, finally.
With him. Always with him.
That’s the only place I want to be.
He’s on the phone when I walk in, pacing the living room, his voice light with amusement. But when his eyes land on me, his entire focus shifts.
“Yeah, man, I gotta go,” he says quickly. “I’ll text you later.”
His sweatpants hang low on his hips, his black T-shirt stretches across his frame, the backwards baseball cap hides the short hair that’s just starting to grow back, and for some reason, altogether, it makes him look younger. Healthier.
For a second, I let myself pretend he is.
He crosses the room, pulling me into his warmth, his arms wrapping around me.
“Hey, you,” he murmurs into my hair. “How was your day?”
“It was fine.”
A lie.
He studies me, but I don’t want to drown him in my heaviness. I just want to be here, with him. Happy.
He doesn’t push, just keeps me close as he steers us toward the couch.
“Alright, wedding planning,” he announces, rubbing his hands together. “What do you need from me? Because I’m happy to just show up and say ‘I do,’ but I feel like you might want more than that.”
I smirk, sinking in beside him. “How do you feel about Central Park?”
His brows lift as he nods in approval. “Classic. I like it.”
“And I was thinking we could do the reception at my mom’s house in Jersey. You know how much she loves hosting, and her backyard is basically built for it.”
Cam nods, a small smile forming. “She does love a good excuse to go all out.”
“And your mom can help too. They get along anyway, they’ll love any excuse to get together and plan something like they used to.”
“They do, which is weird,” he teases. “Because my mom has great taste in people.”
I smack his arm, and he laughs, reaching for my hand, threading his fingers through mine.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks suddenly, his voice quieter.
I blink. “About what?”
He smirks, but there’s something vulnerable underneath it. “You sure you want to marry a dying man? You still have time to back out, I’d understand. Just, ya know…don’t do the whole runaway bride thing. I don’t think my ego would survive it.”
My heart clenches.
He’s trying to make a joke, but I hear the fear underneath it.
I cup his cheek, making him look at me. “Cam, there’s no one else for me. There never has been. There never will be.”
His jaw tightens, and he exhales, nodding. “Good. Cause think about how poetically tragic that would be to die of a broken heart before the cancer could take me.”
I groan, shoving him lightly. “Your dark humor is concerning sometimes, Cam.”
He chuckles, but his eyes start to heat looking at me. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me onto his lap.
“You know,” he murmurs, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of my shirt, tracing patterns along my bare skin, “I think I’ve got a few things that I need to brush up on before our wedding night.”
I arch a brow. “Oh? And what exactly are these things?”
He leans in, his lips brushing along the back of my neck, his voice low. “I want to make sure your body knows it’ll always be mine too.”
My breath catches, and he laughs quietly, his hand slipping further beneath my shirt, fingers grazing just beneath the band of my shorts. “Make sure you never forget, even after I’m gone.”
I shudder, my body instantly reacting to his words alone.
His mouth finds mine, and suddenly, I forget everything else around us. The weight of the world. The ache in my chest that’s constantly there. The ticking clock we refuse to acknowledge. Right now, there’s only this.
His hands keep roaming, his lips trailing a path of fire against my skin. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered word branding itself onto me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out as his mouth traces the curve of my jaw. “You know that, right?”
I open my mouth to respond, but he doesn’t let me, his lips finding mine again, stealing my breath, stealing my thoughts.
“I still can’t believe you’re gonna be my wife,” he murmurs, his hands slipping beneath my shirt, his touch becoming possessive. “Do you have any idea how hot that is? That I get to call you mine—forever.”
I shiver at the adoration in his voice, at the way he says it like he can manifest an actual forever for us just by speaking it out loud.
“I already am yours, Cam.”
His grip tightens on my hips, his face pressing against my neck. “Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it at the altar, wanna finally hear you take my name, wanna see you walking around with that beautiful ring on that tells the world you belong to me.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, refusing to let reality seep in. “You’re not the only one who wants that,” I whisper.
His lips curve into a smirk. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His voice drops lower, sending a shiver through me.
“You have no idea how lucky I am to have you, to love you, to have found my way back to you.” He presses another lingering kiss to my lips before standing and taking my hand.
“Promise me you won’t take it off after I’m gone. Even if one day you find someone else…”
“Cam—”
“Please.”
“I’ll never take it off Cam, but—”
“No more talking, that’s all I needed.” He smiles, walking me into the bedroom. “I’ve got better things to do with you right now.”
As he lays me down, I can tell that we’re going to try to forget reality for a little while longer. And I think that’s exactly what we need right now.