Anything for Her

by Lola StVil

  I walk over to him and shake my head. “He’s not gonna bite, Logan. You can get near him.”

  “First of all, some of them do bite. And second, I’m worried that he’s here at all,” he whispers.

  “I get that this isn’t ideal. I do. But it’s the situation we have and we have to deal with it. We can do this.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. It’s only for a few hours. I hope Helen will be okay. She seems like a nice lady,” he says.

  “I know we just met Henry but something tells me, he’d be lost without her.”

  “If the look on his face when he came in here is anything to go by, he’d lose his shit if his wife dies. I feel bad for him. He goes to bed and everything is fine and then in a matter of hours, everything he knows could get taken away,” he says, sounding distant. I can’t help but wonder if he’s still talking about Henry or himself.

  ***

  The morning goes by and while Logan isn’t ignoring Frankie, he’s keeping a distance from him. Frankie will glance over at Logan as he’s tinkering with the surveillance equipment. When Logan turns around, Frankie will quickly look away. I spot Logan smiling to himself and I think he’ll start to warm up to the boy.

  My suspicions are confirmed a few hours later when I place Frankie’s lunch in front of him. I made a turkey and cheese sandwich with the crust cut off. I slice some apples and steamed some veggies on the side. He eats the sandwich and apples. But getting him to eat the veggies is a different matter. I try to talk him into it, I beg him to just try one little piece, but he flat-out refuses. I swear it was easier to talk the woman out of shooting her husband than it is to get this kid to eat anything green.

  Logan enters the kitchen and makes himself a plate full of veggies. He then walks up to the table and sits down right next to Frankie. And without cracking a smile, he places a piece of carrot on top of his head. Frankie begins to laugh and says, “What are you doing?!”

  “I’m eating my carrots,” Logan replies in all seriousness.

  “Not like that, like this,” Frankie says, placing a carrot into his mouth.

  “No! It’s like this,” Logan replies, placing another vegetable slice on his head. Frankie places his hand on his forehead in the most dramatic fashion and shakes his head.

  “No, not the head, the mouth!” Frankie says. I watch the two of them go back and forth until Frankie has eaten all his veggies. By the end of lunch the two of them are having a deep discussion about who is stronger: Batman or the Incredible Hulk. This discussion leads to what is happening now: Logan and Frankie are in the middle of a very intense wrestling match where he has taken on the role of the Hulk and Frankie is Batman. In the end, Hulk loses in a crushing defeat to the adorable redheaded Batman.

  Logan asks Frankie if he wants to swim in the lake; Frankie’s eyes light up. We walk to the lake and Logan carries Frankie on his shoulders. They inform me that Logan is not Logan and that he’s now Frankie’s dinosaur. They play in the water until Frankie’s little fingers are wrinkled pale. I drag them both back to the house as night arrives.

  Once inside, I tell Frankie how much I loved eggs for dinner when I was a kid. He looks at me, shocked. “Eggs for dinner!” he replies, at a loss. He’s never heard of that. So, that’s his dinner: eggs and toast. When I hand him a cup of milk, he won’t drink it until I get one for Logan. The two of them sip their drinks on the sofa and watched a cartoon.

  I can’t help but feel pangs of guilt as I watch them interact. Logan and I never talked about having children. But maybe it could have happened for us. If I hadn’t made the choices I did, maybe things could have been different.

  Frankie falls asleep and his head drifts onto Logan’s arm. He lays him down and covers him up with the throw. When Henry comes back, his grandson is sound asleep. He tells us that his wife is okay but needs to stay in the hospital. Logan picks Frankie up and says, “We can keep looking after him if you need us to, it’s no problem.”

  “No, thank you. His mom is on her way to get him. Thanks again,” Henry says.

  “We’re glad your wife is going to be okay,” Logan says.

  “Yes, I second that. Please wish her well for us,” I reply.

  “Will do,” he says as he scoops his grandson from Logan’s arms and walks out. All of a sudden the house feels really quiet. I guess that’s what happens after Batman leaves.

  “You were really great with him,” Logan says with admiration in his eyes.

  “Well you weren’t too bad yourself. Have you ever thought of having kids? We never discussed it,” I remark as I close the gap between us and place my hand against his chest.

  “I figured we’d have time to talk about it down the line,” he says earnestly.

  I whisper, “And now?”

  He doesn’t reply but his lips twitch and his body stiffens. He walks away from me and heads for the small portable bar cart in the corner of the room.

  “And now, I need a drink,” he says as he pours both of us a glass of whiskey. He downs his quickly and pours himself another. I sip mine and hope the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach is unnecessary.

  “I need to know something,” he says.

  So for the record, uneasy feeling totally warranted…

  “Sure, ask me,” I reply with false confidence.

  “Shay, I get why you sent me away when you got sick—I don’t agree with it, but I get it. But why didn’t you reach out when you got better?”

  ***

  He’s sitting next to me on the sofa, waiting for an answer. I swallow the last gulp of whiskey and hope it really is liquid courage. He’s owed an explanation, it’s true. But the question is, will mine be enough?

  “I rarely dated over the past two years. In fact, I can count the number of dates on one hand. But all of those dates were awful for one reason or another. And when I got home, I would retreat to my favorite daydream—the one where I call you and you are happy to hear from me.

  “In that daydream, I tell you what happened and you don’t hate me. We pick up right where we left off. That daydream was all I had. And I was afraid to ruin it. I was afraid that if I called you’d tell me off or I’d hear a woman laughing in the background,” I admit as I look down at the floor.

  “So you protected your daydream and left the real version of us to rot?” he asks.

  “I was wrong, Logan. I was too scared to seek you out again. I needed that fantasy version of us and I was terrified of losing it. I hope you can understand that,” I reply.

  “Yeah, I guess,” he says, clearly not satisfied.

  “Stay right here, I’ll be back,” I reply as I quickly enter the bedroom and grab my purse. When I get back to the sofa, I sit closer to him and take his hand in mine.

  “I talked to your dad and he helped me see things I didn’t understand before,” I confess.

  “What things?”

  “I didn’t get how much pushing you away cost you, or how much it cost us. But after talking to your dad and seeing the way you were with Frankie, I realize I took away our future. You have been there for me in every way, and I should have been honest with you. In my eagerness to protect you, I ended up being the one that hurt you the most. I’m truly sorry about that. And unlike before, if I had a chance to do it over again, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. I’d tell you that I was sick and we’d face it together.”

  “Are you sure? That means you can’t push me away, or build walls, none of that shit. If we are together, I need you to share your life with me. Losing you was pure hell but getting you back only to lose you again would be fucking unbearable. But that’s what would happen if we aren’t straight with each other. I need to know that you will not shut me out again. I need you to be honest with me, no matter what we’re facing. Are you ready to do that?”

  “Yes, I am,” I reply. He’s unsure. I can tell by the way he can’t hold my gaze. I dig into my purse and take out a picture of me the day after I shaved off all my hair.

  “I know I ca
n’t give you the two years back but if you want, I’d love to share what those two years were like for me,” I reply as I hand him the picture.

  “Babe, you look so sad,” he says.

  “Yeah, the hair thing took longer to get over than I thought it would,” I admit. I look the picture over again. My stomach dips. I can feel the memory of that day washing over me. I felt so worthless and weak.

  He must see it in my eyes because he places his hand on mine. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

  “I’m sure that I want a future with you and to do that, we have to address the past. And this is part of the past,” I reply as I brace myself for the walk down memory lane...

  (Present)

  We talk all night and she fills me in on the stuff that I’ve missed. She recalls the days that followed her diagnosis and how terrified she was. She talks about it in such vivid detail, it’s like she’s lost in that memory.

  She talks about feeling like her body betrayed her and thinking she must have done something to piss off the universe somehow. She tried to deny that it was happening for a while but Kat wouldn’t let her put off dealing with it. She cried, shouted at the heavens, and wrecked her apartment. When all of it was over, and she was ready to deal with the reality, the first thing she did was tell her mom.

  She tells about the day she went in for the operation and how cold the room was. She said she felt empty and miserable. Kat and her mom tried to cheer her up but all that did was make her feel bad that she was taking up so much of their time. I want to know everything but when she gets to the chemo treatments, her words are covered in pain and her eyes are wet. I suggest we stop because I don’t want to make her relive it if it’s too much for her.

  “No, I want you to know. I want to share this with you,” she says softly. I nod and take her hand as she recalls being too weak to get out of bed, losing her hair, and spending most of the day vomiting.

  “Christ, I should have been there,” I swear angrily.

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  “I should have picked up on it somehow. I knew you and Jack. I should have seen that there was something else going on.”

  “I made it hard for you to think anything other than what I said. This wasn’t you. This was me and please don’t blame yourself because the decision was mine. And I made the wrong one.”

  “I hate to think you were in pain and I wasn’t there,” I reply.

  “You’re here now. We’re here now. And for the record, it wasn’t all bad.”

  “Oh really? There’s a good part to having cancer?” I reply.

  “Well, not ‘good,’ but it helps you know who your friends are. Kat was wonderful. And my mom and I found each other again. I found out I was much stronger than I thought. Also when you eat like fifty popsicles in one sitting, no one judges you.”

  “Fifty!” I laugh.

  “What can I say, it helped.”

  “Yes and I’m sure you hated having to eat so many,” I tease.

  “It was hard but I powered through it,” she lies, knowing it’s her favorite cold treat.

  “You are a brave woman,” I reply, bringing her closer to me.

  “Maybe but my doctors were very happy to get rid of me. According to them, I was the worst patient they had in a long time.”

  “Why did they say that?”

  “I’ll tell you,” she says, “but first you have to promise not to press charges.”

  “Ah, okay…” I reply as I narrow my eyes.

  “I was getting ready to be taken into the OR when I realized I forgot to bring something with me—something very important. I called Kat and she ran back to my apartment and got it for me.”

  “What was it?”

  “Remember the tiny tin soldier you found near our cabin?”

  “Yeah, we left it on the windowsill, standing up. We vowed to lay it down if either of us changed our minds about getting married.”

  “Well—and this where the not filing charges comes in—I broke into the cabin and took it. I know it sounds crazy but I wanted to have him near me. So, I stole—I mean borrowed him. And on the day of my surgery, I ended up forgetting to take him.”

  “So you held up a lifesaving operation for a tin toy?”

  “I held up a lifesaving operation so I could have something of yours near me.”

  “Come here,” I reply as I embrace her tightly against me.

  “And to the nurses’ credit, they made sure the soldier was standing and facing me the whole time,” she adds.

  “Do you still have it?” I ask.

  “I returned the soldier to the cabin. It felt wrong to keep him but I delayed returning him even after I got better.”

  “Why?”

  She locks eyes with me and speaks softly. “I couldn’t let him stand upright on the windowsill. The whole point was that he was guarding our marriage and since the engagement was broken, I had to lay him down flat and I didn’t want to. I know, it’s really stupid.”

  “It’s not. I thought the soldier would remain standing upright too,” I admit. We grow silent for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. I flash back to our time at the cabin, how happy we were. Shay’s voice pulls me back to the present.

  “Logan, when all of this is over…where will that leave us?”

  “That’s a good question, where do you want this to go?” I ask.

  She takes a deep breath and replies with a vulnerable voice, I’ve never heard before. “I want to be your wife. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But even if you’re not ready for that, even if we never end up down the aisle, I just want to be with you. I know I messed things up but I want to try again, can we try again? Or am I too late? Logan, did I lose you for good?”

  “I know it wasn’t easy talking about what you went through. I know you only did that to show me you are ready to let me in. That means a lot to me. The truth is, we were never really apart. You were always in my thoughts, just beyond my reach. Shay, I love you.”

  I stand, take her hand, and walk her into the bedroom. She stands before me, glowing from the light bouncing off the moon and into the window. I plant light kisses on her forehead, the tip of her nose, and the hollow of her neck. I kiss along her delicate jawline and up to her earlobe.

  When I glide back down her neck, using my tongue, a moan escapes her lips. I kiss everywhere but her lips, wanting to save that for last. But Shay has other plans; she takes my head between her hands and draws my tongue into her warm mouth. We’re entangled in a torrent of deliberate, scorching kisses.

  The more I get of her mouth, the more I want and the harder my dick gets. It’s not just that part of my body that’s reacting to her. I can’t get my heart to stop pounding against my chest. She’s doing things to me that no other woman has ever been able to do.

  Christ.

  I want nothing more than to rip off all our clothes and sink inside her, but instead I take my time. I want to revisit all the places on her body that amaze me, essentially taking the long way home. Also, she deserves to be made love to and admired thoroughly.

  God, there’s so much to admire.

  My hands explore her body with just as much eagerness as my mouth. I try to stay on task but she’s skillfully flicking her silky warm tongue across my chest, making my world go dark.

  Damn this feels good.

  My cock is aggressively pushing against my jeans; I have never been this fucking hard before. As if she hears my thoughts, Shay glides her hands down to my zipper and sets me free. My cock springs out, eagerly seeking her. I’m too gone to be graceful as I pull my jeans past my hips. Now, I focus on getting her just as naked as I am. I unzip her dress and watch as it falls to the floor. It’s like unveiling a fucking masterpiece. I have to step back so I can fully appreciate it.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. There’s only one last thing left to do: remove her black-lace-trimmed bra and panties. I want to see her naked but no way am
I rushing this. I feel like I’m unwrapping the biggest and the best fucking gift I’ve ever been given. I unhook her bra and slide the straps down her bare shoulders. I suppress a growl.

  But when her bra slips off, she does something she’s never done before—she covers her bare breasts by crossing her arms in front of them. Her breasts can’t be hidden fully by her arms but she does her best to hide as much of them as she can. One look in her eyes and it’s easy to see this isn’t a game she’s playing. She’s not trying to prolong the seduction. She is genuinely ashamed.

  Argh! I’m such a fucking idiot. She’s worried about the scars she got during surgery. I read up on the subject but I never connected it because in my mind, it didn’t change anything for me. Even if she had lost her breasts completely, she’d still be the hottest fucking woman I’ve ever known. But it’s different for her because even though she was able to keep her breasts, it’s clear the scars bother her.

  “Anika,” I call out softly. She looks down at the floor and my heart aches. I never want to see that look of shame on her face again. I lift her head up and make her look into my eyes.

  “You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to. But you should know that nothing, not one thing, can make you less attractive to me.”

  “I had a very good surgeon. She made a small incision under the fold of my breasts but it’s still a scar. I didn’t care what other guys thought about it but with you…I can’t stand the thought of you seeing it and thinking it’s ugly.”

  “I’m not in love with you for your breasts, although God knows they are enough. The reason why I’m in love with you is because you are the embodiment of all the things I want to be. You’re fearless, strong, and you have the biggest heart of anyone I know.

  “Anika, your curves keep me up at night. The small of your back, nape of your neck, and your luscious lips…I love all of that. But the thing that I am in love with, the part of you that I got on a plane to protect, is your heart. That’s what made me want to marry you—your heart. Like I said, you don’t have to bare your breasts to me if you don’t want to. But if you do, the only thing you’ll see on my face is awe. Because I can’t fucking believe I get to make love to you,” I admit.