And it would stay there, even when the rest of me was gone.
My mouth went dry as she drifted toward me, looking ethereal and so damn young.
I never wanted to forget.
Not a single thing.
Not a fraction of a moment.
I’m so sorry, Little Ribbon.
So sorry for marrying you with an ending already close.
I should annul this marriage, never consummate it, and leave her untouched so she never knew the pain of being a widow.
But there were things I could do and things I couldn’t…and this was one I couldn’t.
I had to marry her.
I’d wanted to marry her since I’d found her.
John walked beside her—our joint father who’d adopted us heart and soul—while Cassie trailed behind her—a sister to us both.
Funny, how the two women who’d been in my life the longest had switched roles.
Once, Della had been my sister, while Cassie was my lover.
Now, Della was my almost-wife, and Cassie was my family.
And when Della arrived before me and John gave her to me with a smile and a look that cleaved my contaminated chest in two, I’d never been so happy or so sad.
All my dreams had come true and, because of that…my life was almost over.
I clutched her hand as we faced the reverend together. We shook equally, afraid and eager, nervous and sure.
The reverend smiled and nodded and spoke about the sanctity of our union.
I didn’t listen.
I couldn’t.
My entire attention locked on the stunning girl beside me, on the perfect way her hand fit in mine, and the knowledge that after this, she would no longer be a Mclary.
She’d be a Wild.
Her five-year-old suggestion no longer fake but so, so real.
With our eyes joined and love flowing, the reverend gave us state regulated verses and offered up church approved vows, waiting for us to parrot them after him.
Simple and uncomplicated.
No penned poems or scripted sonnets.
Just the bare essentials to bind us.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off her as she repeated after him, “I, Della Mclary, choose you, Ren Wild, to be my lawfully wedded husband. For richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, for as long as we both shall live.”
Sickness.
The worst one.
The one I was about to drag her through.
I’m so sorry, Della.
My voice shook as I struggled to hold myself together. “I, Ren Wild, take you, Della Mclary, to be my lawfully wedded wife. For richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, for as long as we both shall live.”
Disguising the grief in my throat, I pressed a kiss to her ear, closing my eyes on the tears that threatened. “And long past that. Forever, Ribbon. Forever.”
She shivered and laughed quietly as I pulled the ring I’d bought from my pocket. Her eyes widened at the solitaire diamond with an italic inscription inside:
Wild forever and always. I love you.
She shook her head, another emotional chuckle falling free. “I-I can’t believe this.”
I brushed aside a curl, imprinting the feel of her soft cheek. “What can’t you believe?”
“That once again, we shared the same idea.” Opening her palm, she revealed a glossy gold band with the same promise from my dinged-up leather bangle stamped inside.
DW RW4EVA
I wanted to curse.
To swear.
Profanity seemed the only cure to release the overwhelming pressure and love inside me, but with God watching us become man and wife, I just drew her close and kissed her deep, all while John chuckled, and Cassie swooned, and the reverend cleared his throat with reprimand.
“You’re supposed to wait until after you’ve said the words ‘I do.’”
With Della’s lips on mine, we smiled and laughed, teeth clacking as we both murmured, “I do.”
“I do.”
My fingers fumbled on hers, switching her chipped sapphire to her other hand and sliding the diamond over her wedding finger. Once I’d trapped her with vows and jewellery, she trapped me.
I never thought a piece of precious metal could transfix me, but as that ring settled cold then turned warm, I no longer felt alone.
I felt an overpowering sensation of home and heart and hearth.
“You may kiss the bride.” The reverend clasped his hands and stepped back.
There would be many things I remembered on my death bed.
So many wonderful things.
But that kiss?
That first kiss where Della was my wife would always be the brightest.
That kiss was our beginning, middle, and end.
That kiss bound us past life and death, sickness and health.
That kiss was life itself, never ending, forever existing, two souls entwined…
…for eternity.
* * * * *
“Are you sitting down?”
My fingers tightened around my phone, my eyes tracking Della as she packed a few clothes for us to return to the forest for a small honeymoon.
Only a couple of days, just enough to consummate—more than once—and to forget our future. If we could.
“No. Should I be?” My voice was gruff, belying the injection of panic.
Rick Mackenzie, my oncologist with his Scottish calmness, said, “Let’s get the important stuff out of the way, shall we? Let’s start with Della Mclary.”
“Della Wild now. As of a few hours ago.”
Della threw me a kiss, folding a t-shirt neatly.
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” My knees wobbled, depositing me onto the pushed together single beds of our youth. “Is she okay?” My eyes never left Della’s as she plopped the t-shirt into the small pile we were taking with us and came toward me.
Slotting herself into the V of my spread legs, her fingers curled in my hair, and I held her waist to my nose.
I inhaled hard, smothering a cough as Rick said, “She’s fine. No signs of any asbestos related diseases.”
A cry that could only be described as tormented thanks fell from my lips, soaking into her belly button. “Oh, thank God.”
Della hugged my head, trembling. “I love you, Ren.”
Her whisper scattered around me as Rick continued, “As for you…I really should ask you to come into my office so we can go through any questions you might have, but...well, I can’t wait. I wanted to tell you straight away.”
Blackness slithered its way through me, blotting out my hope, tearing up the calendar pages of my heart, deleting the months I thought I had. His urgency created pure terror. “What is it?”
You have one month to live.
Kiss your wife goodbye.
Hope you have your casket sorted.
I planted a hand over my eyes, begging the depression to stop.
Rick’s voice cut through the medley. “You’re a positive responder, Ren.”
For a second, I had no idea what that was.
All my research and knowledge, gone.
Poof.
Then the words deconstructed and reassembled into a sentence I could understand. You’re not dying…yet.
The phone slipped through my hand. It bounced on the carpet like an undetonated bomb.
Was it real?
Was it true?
Not only had I gotten one dream by marrying Della today, I’d earned an extension from leaving her too?
“Ren?” Della’s worried voice cut through the buzzing in my head. “You okay?” Ducking, she collected the phone and held it to my ear. “He’s still talking.”
I cupped her hand with mine, ignoring the phone.
My lungs blazed with pain, but I didn’t trust that pain anymore. It was trying to make me believe in a lie.
I’m not dying…yet.
Gripping her hard, I breathed fast. “It’s-it’s good news. Fuck,
it’s excellent news.”
For all my positive thinking, I hadn’t dared hope for this.
It would fucking break me if it turned out to be bad.
She nodded frantically, tears sparkling. “Thank God.” Urging me to take the phone, she said, “Find out more. Talk to him.”
Licking my lips, I obeyed, still shell-shocked and disbelieving but ready to listen. “Sorry. Minor accident. Wh-what did you say?”
“What happened? You drop the phone?” Rick chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first. But…be happy. You didn’t mis-hear. I said you’re showing signs of improvement. As you know, mesothelioma is aggressive, and the tumours are small and dispersed throughout your lungs and abdomen. However, the treatment has halted any from multiplying. In some areas, they’ve even decreased.”
“Holy shit.”
Della whacked me on the shoulder. “Language.”
I laughed, daring to grab a piece of lightness in all of this. “Sorry, Doctor Mackenzie.”
“Bah, I’ve heard worse. And call me Rick. Think we’re on first-name terms now that I’m healing ya.”
Della bent and pressed her head against the phone, trying to hear. I pulled it away and put it on speaker so we both could listen.
Coughing just a little, I asked, “So…what now?”
“Now? We keep you on three weekly treatments and watch for more progress. If, in a few months’ time, your lungs show significant improvement, you come off the drug and are announced in stable condition.”
Don’t ask.
Don’t ask.
“And my prognosis?”
I asked.
Shit.
This was a happy time.
The best of times.
I shouldn’t ruin it by asking for the new date of my death.
However, Rick laughed encouragingly, light-hearted even, infecting me with his optimism. “Screw one to two years, Ren. You’ve just bought yourself a few more. I don’t know how many more, but you’re young, only stage one, and prepared to do whatever it takes. That in itself puts you miles ahead. As far as I’m concerned, we’ll keep you alive for however long you decide.”
“Forever.” Standing, I pressed a kiss to Della’s lips, talking more to her than my doctor. “I choose forever.”
She kissed me back, breathing, “Forever, Ren. A hundred forevers.”
“On that note, I’m gonna leave you two newlyweds to enjoy the good news. See you soon, Ren.” Rick hung up.
Tossing the phone onto the bed, I swooped my wife into my arms and spun her around. “I hope you didn’t marry me thinking I’d be dead in a couple of years, Mrs Wild.”
Her head tipped back, blonde hair flying, diamond ring glinting. “God, you calling me that does things to me.”
“Things?”
Her lips crashed down on mine. “Bad things. Wet things.”
I stumbled to the wall, wedging her beside our old dresser. “I mean it, Della. I’m going to fight. Every fucking day.”
“And I’m going to love you, every fucking day.” She plastered my face with kisses like she used to do when she was a kid and excitement overflowed.
“Language.” I nipped at her lip.
“Kiss me, husband.” Her lips kissed every part of me, from chin to throat to ear.
I loved she still retained that childish enthusiasm.
I loved that she was giddy with joy, celebrating the best news of all.
Her lips gave up their flurry of kisses, seeking my mouth with sweet desperation.
I matched her with a different kind of fury.
One of bittersweet relief and explosive gratefulness.
I’d sworn my life to this woman.
We no longer had to play pretend husband and wife.
We were real.
As real as any other couple and just as permitted to love unconditionally.
And yet, I would forever be more than just a husband to Della. And she would forever be more than just my wife.
Our relationship would always have a different depth to it.
A unique connection that had been formed thanks to so many facets of love.
Love that had already been tested in so many different ways.
Breaking the kiss, I grabbed her hand and twirled her wedding ring.
“Wild forever and always.” I quoted the inscription. “Time means nothing when it comes to true love. Promise me you understand that.”
She searched my eyes, finding nothing but my soul bare and hers for the taking.
Death would still come for me.
But for now…we were hiding.
Hiding out of its reach, creating a life that would be so infinitely precious and pure.
She blinked back tears. “I understand, Ren.”
“Good.”
She smiled softly. “Fine.”
The familiarity of such a silly phrase meant we didn’t end up camping that night.
We fell together and consummated our marriage in the very same beds where we’d denied such a future from existing.
From children to adults.
From friends to soulmates.
Forever.
Forever.
And always.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
REN
* * * * * *
2021
“REN?”
John lugged his big body from the couch where he’d been nursing a beer. “Can I have a word?”
Liam sat on the floor with his very pregnant girlfriend, and Adam had his wife, Carly, on his lap while their two kids played on the carpet.
Since Della and I hadn’t made it to the forest for our honeymoon, the Wilsons had improvised and hosted an all-day affair of just hanging out. And for once, I didn’t mind being around people.
These weren’t just people.
They were our people.
Family.
Cassie had hired a last-minute caterer to feed us, seeing as Patricia’s culinary magic was no more, and the Wilson grandchildren did a good job at pegging up the hole left by her missing presence—even though nothing could replace such an amazing woman.
Della and I were planning on going away tonight. We’d have a few days to ourselves before I threw myself back into my farm chores, saved some cash, and planned where we would live.
The one bedroom in the stable was too cramped, and although I’d had such good news yesterday, I wouldn’t take any bonus years for granted.
I needed to sort out our future…soon.
“Sure, what’s up?” I asked, swigging the final mouthful of my own beer—just one to celebrate—and catching the ever watchful, always loving eye of my wife.
Della had been Mrs Wild for twenty-four hours, and I couldn’t stop looking at her or my ring on her finger.
She gave me a smile from where she sat with Cassie and Nina on the floor doing a puzzle. Pieces were scattered everywhere with Nina giving directions to her mother and aunt.
Cassie looked up, grinned at me, then glanced at her father and nodded secretly.
What the—
I didn’t like that.
I didn’t like secrets.
My hackles rose.
“Come into the kitchen.” John tipped his white head toward the scuffed, well-used table and chairs. “Bring Della. This concerns her, too.”
Whenever we had conversations at that table, things happened.
Big things.
Life-changing things.
I wanted to groan. What had he done now, the meddling ass? I still had his Cherry River contract tucked in the dresser in our room. I’d read the fine print, and sure enough, he’d given full insurance to all my health-related incidents.
I’d made a mental note to call the lawyer who had my Will and Testament and ask him how much John would stand to lose by covering me. I’d heard horror stories of some drugs costing thousands per week, sometimes tens of thousands.
I didn’t want to die, but I wouldn’t put anyone into destitution to save my life, e
ither.
John was worth a lot with his land. If he were to sell, he’d be a millionaire without a doubt. But all that equity was tied into his legacy, and I never wanted to be the reason he’d be forced to sell.
Della cast me a look, climbing to her feet.
“Go on,” Cassie whispered. “You’ll want to hear this.”
My eyes skipped over the Wilson children and grandchildren before Della clutched my hand and tugged me toward where John had sat down. The entire vibe of the place had changed. Everyone was in on this, whatever it was.
I narrowed my eyes warily. “What’s going on?”
“Sit.” John pointed at the chairs beside him, waiting until Della and I obeyed.
We sat, and my tension wound even more. “Okay, we’re sitting. Now what?”
He smirked. “Always so suspicious.”
“Always justified around you.”
He chuckled, his large paws linking on the table top. “One of these days, you’re going to learn to relax, Ren. Mark my words.”
Phrases like that were double-edged swords. ‘One of these days’ implied a timeline that stretched into infinity. We both knew I didn’t have infinity—not that anyone did. We all died...eventually.
But just because I’d had incredible news that I wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while, it didn’t stop the bitter-sweetness that it would be sooner than I liked.
“One of these days, you’ll stop surprising me with your harebrained ideas.” I smiled. “I mean, who gives a fifteen-year-old kid a place to stay and makes him family? Who hires a lawyer for a supposed kidnapper—”
“Yeah, okay. I’m a saint. I get the point.”
Della laughed, making my heart wing as I reclined in my chair.
I chuckled under my breath. “Yeah, a saint who interferes.”
He held up his hand. “Guilty.”
“Once Ren has stopped giving you a hard time, John…what is it you wanted to talk to us about?” Della asked quietly, blonde hair scooped over her shoulder. Her ribbon around her throat today.
The same throat I’d squeezed from behind and pushed down while I took her.
Tearing my gaze away, I cleared my mind from inappropriate thoughts.
John grinned. “First, I want to say a very happy marriage to you two. It was an absolute honour to give you away, Della.”
Della’s cheeks pinked with affection. “The honour was mine, Uncle John.”
The Girl and Her Ren Page 40
