by C. A. Harms
I shook my head, attempting to clear the fog that had filled it. “Yeah,” I said with a nervous laugh that only made me feel more embarrassed, “I should get inside.”
I hurried to the door and tried to ignore the way he watched me.
“I’m Patrick, by the way.” I looked back over my shoulder at the sound of his voice, and damn that smile of his made me weak in the knees. “Just in case you’re wondering.”
“Sawyer.”
He arched his brow in interest, and I knew he was curious about my name. Everyone always was. I grew up in foster care, knowing nothing of my biological family or why they had given me that name. All anyone had ever told me was that I’d been placed in the care of the state at the moment of my birth. From there I was passed around from one place to the next for years until I was placed with an older couple who cared for me until I was old enough to be on my own. After Harvey Miller, my foster dad, passed, the only family I had left was Rachel, my mother.
“I like it,” he said with that same mesmerizing smile, and I looked away wondering how one smile from a man I didn’t know could hit me so deep.
That smile still did the same thing to me. It made me weak in moments of anger and managed to flip a terrible situation into a better one. I closed my eyes. The fear of one day not being able to remember that smile hit me so hard, a sob broke free before I could control it. Panic rushed in, and I got out of bed and went to the door that led to the hallway. Covering my mouth, I continued toward the kitchen and braced my hands against the edge of the countertop.
I held back my sobs as best I could, though my chest shook with each attempt. Hanging my head, I closed my eyes, then jumped in surprise when Patrick’s chest pressed firmly against my back. He engulfed me in his arms and held me while I cried.
“Let it go, baby,” he whispered near my ear. I was shocked that I still had tears left to shed, but I did. My heart was shattered, and my faith was gone. All those little comforts that make life bearable meant nothing to me now. I would live each day in darkness with only the clothes on my back, without even the smallest complaint if I could still have Patrick by my side. All I needed was him. All I wanted was him.
“This is gonna break me,” I whispered through my sobs as I turned in his arms to face him. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get through this.”
“You will,” he assured me. When I shook my head, he gripped my cheeks and held my face firmly. “You’ll be strong when you need to be, but for now you can fall apart.”
I knew that was hard for him to say because his lips trembled as he looked into my eyes, trying to stay strong for me.
“I’m scared,” I confessed. “I don’t know how to be me without you.” It was a weak confession, but it was true, and when I said it, he fell apart too. His chest shook as his owns sobs broke free and he squeezed me just a little tighter, seeking the same comfort I, too, was needy for.
Patrick had met me when I was just a girl who’d been forced to grow up long before I should have had to. He understood how alone I felt and how much loss I’d gone through, and he stood beside me in my bad times and accepted all my faults. He was the foundation I’d built my life on over the last five years, and without him, I didn’t know how to live.
Chapter 3
A week passed filled with many tears along with the laughter I’d promised him. Though I couldn’t help but feel I shouldn’t be laughing when I was watching my husband slowly fade before me.
I could see the change in him daily. The strong, proud man I’d fallen in love with now looked frail and exhausted. I knew he was forcing himself to stay alert, fearful of missing too much, when the exhaustion threatened to overtake him, and that frustrated me. He needed rest, but he refused to let his illness consume him.
I sat on the porch swing, looking out over our backyard with a warm blanket wrapped around me and a cup of hot tea in my hands. I’d long ago given up on my attempt at reading, and instead watched Patrick and his best friend Gage sitting on the tailgate of his truck in the driveway.
Gage had been here almost every day to help with housework or yardwork. We’d bought this old farmhouse thinking we’d fill our home and yard with our children and grandchildren one day. It wasn’t huge, but three acres was a lot of space for just one woman to tend to. A four-bedroom home was a lot too, but I loved this place and the historical feeling it had. The original woodwork, the old squeaky floor, and the wobbly banister all gave it character. But now I wondered if I shouldn’t just suggest we sell it.
Those feelings always led to me hating myself for acting as if he was already gone.
“You doing okay?”
I looked to my left to find Gage standing only a few feet away and realized just how lost in my own thoughts I’d been. I hadn’t noticed him moving toward the porch or heard him walk up the old stairs that were only a few feet away.
“I’m good,” I lied, and from the way he looked at me with his forehead wrinkled, I knew he was aware of it too. “Okay, I’m as good as I’m gonna get.”
Gage looked across the yard to where Patrick was picking away at the old paint on the fence. He’d decided he was going to do all he could to fix this place up to ensure I wouldn’t have to. I wished he wouldn’t, but it was something he felt he had to do, so I didn’t argue.
“I know the two of you are trying to be strong and hold it together for each other and I admire that. But I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told him.” Gage turned back to me, trying to fight off the tears glimmering in his eyes. “I don’t give a shit what time of day or night it is, I’m here for both of you. This is a lot to take on, and I’m having a hard time with it too. But, Sawyer, just know either of you can ask me for anything.”
Gage and Patrick were like brothers. They had been inseparable since birth, and I knew losing Pat was going to devastate him.
“Thank you.” I nodded as I took a calming breath. “I promise not to occupy too much of your time, though. I wouldn’t want Honor getting upset and missing you.”
I was trying to lighten the mood and maybe make him smile, but it backfired. “She’ll be all right as long as she’s got her nail appointment every Tuesday and her coffee with the girls every morning.” The girls were the group of stuck-up snobs who met daily to gossip at the local café. Honor was born and bred in Tuscaloosa. She was the former Miss Alabama and she carried herself as such. She and I were cordial, but I knew she thought I was beneath her. I didn’t let it get to me, though, because I knew that a girl like her needed attention; girls like me did not. The only attention I desired was Patrick’s. I didn’t need to turn heads as I walked down the street.
Though I always wondered why Gage’s attention wasn’t good enough for her. He was a good-looking man who carried himself with that same confidence and strength Patrick always had. It was a shame Honor couldn’t see what a prize she had.
“Well, in that case, you can hang out here all you want.”
He winked as he moved toward the back door. “Gotta get your boy and myself a cold one.”
When the back door closed, I looked back toward Patrick, who waved for me to come over. I stood, placed my blanket on the swing, and tucked my hands into the sleeves of my sweatshirt as I walked to him.
As I got closer, he pulled off his gloves and slid them into his back pocket. “You mean you don’t have this done yet,” I teased and gained that smile of his I loved so much.
“Well that would be your fault.” I arched my brow and he hooked my waist. “You keep distracting me from my work. A pretty lady all cozied up under a blanket puts ideas in a man’s head.”
“Oh really?”
“Really.”
I moved in for a kiss and he bit my lower lip and gave it a little teasing tug instead. “I can’t get a thing done because the only thing I keep thinking about is me and you under that blanket rolling around in front of the fire.”
“That sounds promising.” I leaned in and went for the kiss he denied me only moments ago.
“Dinner in front of the fire,” I offered and he wagged his eyebrows. “I meant real food.”
“Now you’re just teasing.” His little pout made me laugh.
“Who says I’m teasing?” I leaned in close to his ear. “I thought I could be dessert.”
The little growl that escaped him pleased me. We hadn’t had many moments like this since that day in the doctor’s office, and it was mainly my fault. I’d spent almost every waking moment feeling as if the weight of a thousand men was pressed against my chest. But we both desperately needed times like this to remind us of who we were before that horrid day’.
As I stepped away and turned back toward the house, he slapped my ass. “Give me a couple hours and you better be ready.”
I didn’t say anything more, because Gage had rejoined us. Instead, I moved back toward the house, feeling almost excited about what lay ahead for our evening.
The fire was lit, and a small tray of fruit, cheeses, and crackers sat out on the table in the center of our living room rug. On the side closest to the fireplace, I’d placed our large throw pillows upon a big blanket.
When Patrick entered the living room, freshly showered and wearing only a pair of pajama pants, I stopped what I was doing just to simply look at him. Though he’d lost some weight, he was still the most perfect man I had ever seen. He smiled, and the place inside me that only he could touch ached immensely.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are.” It was like he’d taken the words from my mouth, only I’d been thinking them about him.
As he walked farther into the room, he took in the table, the food, and my glass of water sitting next to his ice-cold bottle of beer. No matter how hard I’d tried, I could never get him to enjoy a glass of Moscato as much as I did. He was a beer man through and through. I laughed to myself just thinking about all my failed attempts at pushing a glass of wine at him over the years.
“What’s so funny?”
I looked up just as he reached me and slowly joined me on the floor.
“I was remembering that face you make every time I try to get you to drink just one glass of wine with me.” He faked a shiver and his lip curled as if he, too, remembered it. “Yeah,” I laughed, pointing at his mouth, “that one.”
“I’d do just about anything for you and you know that,” he reminded me. “But that is one thing I can never learn to love.”
We sat before the fire, talking and laughing. It was almost as if the last week hadn’t happened. I think he felt it too as he looked back at me, an expression of peace almost covering his face.
He reached out, took the glass from my hand, and placed it on the table beside us. He prowled closer, using the weight of his body to nudge me back. Together we lowered ourselves to the floor, our eyes locked on one another’s.
“I’ve always loved this exact moment.” He skimmed the side of his nose along the side of mine. “The way you look at me right before I kiss you. That longing in your eyes, that need. Or the way your lips take on that pouty look, parting just slightly, I love that too. It drives me out of my mind.”
I closed my eyes when he kissed me softly.
Patrick had always been a passionate guy who freely spoke whatever was on his mind. It was one of the things I loved most about him. His words made me feel beautiful and mesmerizing.
I opened my eyes once more as he kissed along the side of my neck, then moved lower, above the swell my breast as he carefully gathered the material of my shirt. He paused over my stomach and slowly placed his hand over it.
My chest tightened and my throat swelled, and it was all I could do to hold back the tears. This was a moment of acceptance for both of us. Our baby hadn’t been a topic of discussion, and part of me felt guilty for it. But the excitement was there, only it was hidden by the sadness.
He slid his palm along my stomach before curling it around my side, then leaning closer and pressing a kiss just below my belly button. No longer able to fight the emotions building inside me, I let a tear fall.
When he looked up at me and I saw the matching shine in his eyes, I knew he felt that same ache. The unfairness of it all and the fact he’d miss so much angered me. He had an amazing life he’d built and everything to live for, but that choice had been taken from him and there was nothing we could do about it.
I just wanted the life I’d dreamed of, and I wanted him here to share it all.
Chapter 4
Patrick
Leaning back against the fence, I took a moment just to breathe. It was growing a little harder each day to get through the day doing the same things I used to. Just a little activity made me feel tired and weak, and it was difficult to face. It was hard to accept that one day soon, I’d be unable to take care of Sawyer the way I’d promised I always would.
“Hey, man.” I lifted my head, fighting the urge to break down, and saw Gage look up at me from his work. I hesitated before saying, “Can I ask you something?”
He lowered the sander and brushed the dust from his hands as he stood. “Anything.”
Gage was amazing. He was a man of his word, a solid, genuine guy I was proud to call my best friend.
“I know this a lot to ask, because you have Honor and a life of your own—”
“I don’t care what it is, Pat. You know I got you. Whatever you need.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the swarm of despair taking me over. “Can you watch out for her?” Asking this of my best friend broke my heart, but I needed to do it. I had to know she’d be okay. Not knowing what would happen to her was the hardest part of all this. “I know she’ll say she’s fine, that she doesn’t need help, but she will. She pretends to accept this, but at night I still hear her cry. Fuck, Gage, her eyes are swollen every morning and it nearly guts me. I can barely breathe knowing she’s gonna fall apart and I won’t be here to hold her together.”
“The moment you married Sawyer, she became my family too.” I could see that assurance I needed in his eyes. “This is gonna tear us all apart, Pat. Hell, I don’t remember a part of my life you weren’t there for, so I think I’ll need her to hold me up just the same as she’ll need me.”
“Don’t let her push everyone away, because she’ll try. It’s who she is.” Gage knew this already. He’d seen us through a couple rough times and had witnessed her attempts to close herself off when something bad happened. “There’s just no one else I trust more, ya know. It’s not only gonna be her I’m leaving behind.” Those words burned my throat. My beautiful wife was going to have to face losing me while being thrust into single-parenting life.
“I know it’s nowhere near the same, but I promise you I’ll watch over the both of them.”
A moment of silent acceptance passed between us. No words were necessary. We’d always been there for one another, and though this was the hardest of times, Gage’s word was his bond. He’d watch over Sawyer and he’d watch over our child as if they were his own.
I stood under the fall of warm water from the showerhead. The pelting drops massaged my scalp and I closed my eyes. Everything I wanted to do and all the things I wanted to ensure were done just kept piling up.
I’d put everything off over the years, just as most of us do, and I wanted to take care of Sawyer and the things around our home that needed to be finished while I still could. But now I only had a limited amount of time left. I didn’t know how I’d feel this time next week, let alone next month. I’d looked at the statistics when Sawyer wasn’t around, and the chances of me being here this time next year were slim.
Putting on a brave face was torturous at times. I wanted to break—fuck, I wanted to hit something and go crazy with rage over being handed this death sentence, but I knew it would accomplish nothing. So instead, I woke up every day, held my wife, kissed her softly, and made yet another day count.
Inside, it was a constant battle, though. It was a nightmare knowing that one day she’d wake up and the place where I once lay beside her would be empty. Knowing tha
t her tears would fall heavy and I won’t be here to kiss them away.
I could choose to go through chemotherapy, but if I did, I knew I would spend the time I had left feeling even more like shit than I already did. So I chose to live out the days I had left without drugs making me sick and weak.
Honestly, though, was either choice better? I was gonna die either way. I was gonna leave behind everyone and everything I love. Life would go on, they would all move forward, and I’d miss it all.
As I tilted my head back, I allowed the water to run over my face, hiding the tears that had begun to escape as anxiety took over. I wasn’t even aware I was sobbing until Sawyer’s voice echoed through the bathroom.
The shower curtain moved to the side to reveal my wife, looking worried. Without a second thought, I hooked my arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward me. Fully clothed, shoes and all, she came willingly and wrapped her arms around me tight.
“I’m gonna miss everything, Sawyer,” I said with my face buried in her wet hair as it stuck to my lips. “I know we haven’t talked about the baby. I understand why we’ve both avoided it, but—”
“Stop.” She squeezed me tighter. “I can’t.”
“There’s a chance I won’t be here when it—”
“I said stop,” she repeated, louder this time.
Pushing back, I forced her to look at me. “No, we need to face this. We both need to accept that it’s a strong possibility.”
“I don’t want to face it,” she declared with that stubborn look in her eyes that she always gets. They narrowed as her forehead wrinkled. “I can’t.”
We both stared at one another without speaking. The harder I pushed, the worse it was gonna get, but ignoring the inevitable wasn’t gonna make it go away. “We have to.”
