by Susan Ward
She made a face, and I chuckled. Her untimely jokes: I understood them better after the day we’d just had. Their usefulness for her…and for me.
“No dexterity at all. I say what I feel when I feel it when I’m with you. Usually a good thing—other times, I’m sure you think not.”
She giggled, but that answer pleased her. I could see it on her face, followed by her posture relaxing. “I’ve always wanted to know this: what’s the everything I’m not?”
I rallied off my list without pause. “Petty. Jealous. Unkind. Selfish. Unloving. You know, what most people are today. You’re a miraculous find, Khloe Manzone. Don’t think I don’t know it.”
Her lips curled downward, unhappy. “Most people aren’t that way. Most people are wonderful. Thank you for the compliment anyway. But jeez, Louise, Damon, I never suspected there was a hidden cynic in you. I’ve always thought of you as a hopeless romantic.”
“I’m not a cynic. Just a hidden realist.”
“I say tomato”—she tilted her head back and forth—“and you say tomahto. It’s the same darn thing.”
“Realist and cynic?” I inquired, as though aghast.
“Yep.” Her manner was playful and light as she shoved a forkful of duck into her mouth.
“Far from it. You’re a realist,” I pointed out, “and the least cynical person I know.”
“Nah. Only a realist about certain things, not everything. Otherwise, I’d totally be my mom.”
I laughed and made the you are like your mom expression. She chided me with her eyes and reached for her wine. Our banter was absurd in our situation, but it felt good. Normal. Us.
I reclined on my side, propped up on an elbow, and watched her eat. “Have you ever thought about how extraordinary it is that we’re together? That we ever met in the first place?”
Her eyes went wide. “Only about a million times. I think a meteor wiping out the earth has better odds.”
“And yet here we are. As improbable as anything could ever be.” I paused for a moment, then added, “Or maybe not improbable at all. Maybe I am supposed to be here with you now. So that you’d have me with you going through this.”
Her mouth scrunched up. She was holding back tears, but that brilliant, loving light shone in her eyes. “If that was destiny’s plan, I’m glad it was you. Though it does seem wholly unfair to you, don’t you think?”
I ignored the jest and asked, “How are you feeling, love?”
My question seemed to surprise her. Then I realized that, all day, no one, not even me, had asked her that. Shame burned my digestive lining.
“The same as I felt this morning. No different.” Her gaze grew serious and thoughtful. “That’s the part of being ill I could never wrap my head around. I’d get awful news from Dr. Hern and still feel exactly the same as I did before he told it to me. Yet everything around me would instantly be different.”
A flush burned my face. I was one of the things that had been instantly different around her, and worse, she’d known it.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been guilty of that as well.”
“Don’t be.” She shrugged and made a dramatic sigh. “I’ve always taken it as evidence of how much people love me. You included. None of what happens to me would matter to anyone if they didn’t love me, right?”
My heart leapt into my mouth. She floored me with that. How was it possible I’d found this remarkable girl? How was it possible I was going to lose her? Khloe was the best thing that’d ever happened to me.
She rested back against the pillows. Her dinner was half gone, and she was no longer holding her fork.
“Do you mind if I move the tray, stretch out in bed beside you, and just hold you until we fall asleep, KK?”
“Mind? Never. It’s what I want most. What I need right now more than anything.”
WE LAY WRAPPED IN each other’s limbs through the night, silent, and waited for the dawn. Yesterday’s snow gave way to a brilliant morning, clear skies, and a magnificent rising of the sun.
Khloe had to be tired, but for some reason she hadn’t nodded off. She burrowed into me and kissed my chest. I was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, but I could feel her lips through my shirt and the touch of her through my body. I nuzzled my nose in her hair and breathed her in. “Why are you still awake, my naughty girl?”
She peeked up at me. “You stay awake. I stay awake. We’re a perfect yin and yang always. Didn’t you know that?’
“Then I’m going to have to work at being a better yang. You should get some rest, love.”
She shook her head. “No, we’re the perfect blend of yin and yang as we are. It occurred to me last night that I never gave you the opportunity to make me understand why you feel differently than I do about…you know…everything. I spent all night wondering why or if you’d changed your mind and that’s why we’re no longer arguing.”
It wasn’t lost on me that she used a euphemism in place of saying Phanes and what that told me. “I’ve not changed my mind. Well, not completely. I think you should have the transplant.”
She pondered that for a moment. “What’s the not completely part?”
I cuddled her closer. “Me being an arrogant bastard, telling you what to do instead of discussing things with you.”
“You weren’t that much of an arrogant bastard.” She crinkled her nose.
“It’s all right to say that I was. I know it.”
She laughed. “Is that what you spent all night thinking about?”
“No…more along the lines of how I can do better to be worthy of you.”
“Ah.” A dreamy sigh whispered from her lips. Then she poked me hard in the ribs. “No, Damon, calling bullshit on that one. Charming though that was, I don’t believe you.”
“I must be losing my touch.”
“Your touch is fine,” she assured me, kissing my jaw. “What you are is terrible at hiding things. You were turning something over in your head. And now you don’t want to tell me what it is. It’s pointless not to tell me what you were thinking about, since we both know that isn’t everything you contemplated last night. I always know when you’re not being totally open with me. You’ve figured that one out, right?”
“Let it alone, Khloe. I don’t want to kick off another argument. Especially as we’re both exhausted.”
She sat up and stared down at me expectantly.
I lifted my brows. “No.”
She slouched, and her gaze shifted back and forth as though she were thinking. Then her blue eyes settled on me, and she smiled. “Do you remember that night in my bedroom two years ago?”
“Which night? I remember the entire lot very clearly.”
She rolled her eyes at me, and I noted that had sounded flirty when I hadn’t intended it. “The night you barged into my bedroom and refused to leave until I told you something real about me.”
“Oh, that night.”
“Oh, that night,” she grumbled, mocking me. “Don’t say it that way. I loved it.”
I grimaced. “You did not. You avoided me for days afterward.”
She shoved her face up close to mine. “Yes, I did love it. It told me I wasn’t going to get rid of you with my usual bag of tricks to run men off. It also convinced me that maybe I shouldn’t run you off.”
“It’s my new favorite night ever,” I announced. I was unsure where she was going with this, but I sat up, alert to find out. “What about it?”
She slowly waved an arm in a wide circle. “We’re in an argument-free zone, just like we were that night, from this minute forward, and we’re going to talk until we both understand each other. And maybe then we’ll find the answer we both want.”
I nodded, suddenly energized.
“And I should amend, no giving orders to each other,” she added quickly.
“You mean I can’t give you an order.”
Her eyes confirmed that was on the mark.
“
Talk,” she said. “You tell me one thing you’re thinking. Then I’ll tell you one. Only you’re starting. What were you thinking last night?”
Oh, bloody hell. This little exercise was going to end quickly. I struggled against my dimming mood.
“It’s not very flattering—”
“New rule,” Khloe said over my voice. “No equivocating. We make no apologies for anything. We can’t be thoroughly honest if we’re afraid that we what we say will hurt the other. Truth sometimes hurts, but it’s still truth. Get it?”
“Fine.” I scrubbed back my hair and sensed an apology tour coming my way. “I wasn’t thinking about you. I couldn’t and not come undone. My emotions were frayed, so I blocked those thoughts. I rummaged through my memory for random things. Bits of this and that. Then one thing stuck, and I spent most of the night turning it in my head.”
“See, I told you you’d been thinking all night—”
“New rule: no gloating. May I finish one thought?”
She puckered her lips and nodded.
“I studied ethics while attending Eton. Part of that was a rather robust lecture about the controversy that surrounded the first ever successful organ transplant. Would it lead to something awful? The religious opinion on it. There was a great deal of controversy. There were some fanatical extremists who believed it violated God’s law, that man was trying to be God, and the entire human race would be doomed. But controversy didn’t change what a miracle it’s been for those who’ve had transplants. And while some people behave badly as a result of that advancement, the vast majority don’t. The benefit outweighed the risk and hasn’t significantly altered the balance in the war between good and bad.”
Her brows puckered. “Good and evil. We call it how it is in California. And we’ve got much more evil in the world today than we did in the fifties.”
“No, we don’t. We’re just able to see more of it.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I nodded.
She smiled tenderly. “I stand corrected. Not a cynic at all. You’re an idealist.”
“Thank you. And, following your lead, I’m calling you out on something. It’s not only the ethics involved with the cloning you object to, there’s something else that makes you not want to go forward. Something you’ve held back.”
Her gaze shot to my face, suspicious. That was a bit unfair; I’d gotten a heads-up from Cody, but we needed to fully clear the air if we were going to get anywhere with this.
She sucked on her lower lip, making little sounds, and I waited. “Everything about it is terrifying,” she admitted. “It’s dangerous to me. Dangerous to us. What it has the potential to do to our lives. And what could happen if the surgery went wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“Wrong,” she repeated forcefully. “I’ve never had surgery before. Never been cut open. Given up total control over what happens to me. And that’s terrifying. Even without the other obvious worries of what it might do to our lives for people to find out I’m Patient One. But it’s the surgery. That’s the most terrifying thing to me. The surgery.”
I was stunned, baffled. That admission had brought her nearly to tears. I pulled her into my arms and held her fiercely. “What is it you’re afraid of, love?”
“When I found out I needed a transplant, I could see it in their eyes. They would have bought me one off the black market if they’d had to, and they might have if Dr. Hern hadn’t been an option and I hadn’t told them I wouldn’t allow that. It was frightening to see how much they loved me. How hard this has been for them and knowing nothing would ever make them give up. I’ve been terrified of the thought of the surgery ever since. That if things went wrong, they wouldn’t give up, they wouldn’t stop. They might let the doctors do awful things to save me if they were asked or even keep me as a vegetable as they searched for another way to save me. I would hate that, Damon. More than anything else I’ve been through. It would be the worst.”
They? Oh Christ. It had taken me a moment to work out what she’d been talking about. But no wonder it had been difficult for her to share all her thoughts with me. She was afraid her parents wouldn’t let her die if that was the merciful choice, and she was ashamed of saying it because of how much she loved them.
“KK, that would never happen.” I clutched her face and forced her to look into my eyes. “If you tell me where the line is you don’t want to cross, I would never permit anyone to do otherwise. Not even your parents.”
“You’ve seen how they are. You couldn’t stop it, Damon. Not that. Not any more than you can stop what’s going to happen to us or what this science might mean in the future.”
“If you write out a medical directive and sign it, no one can take your wants from you. As for the rest of it, the science exists, and not transplanting that heart won’t change that, love. As for the possibility of preventing people discovering it was you who got the first cloned organ, we can’t completely erase that risk, but we can make damn sure that it’s less likely to occur.”
“We can do that?” It was clear none of this had occurred to her.
“Oh yes, love, we can,” I assured her. “I gave quite a bit of thought to managing your having the transplant last night and how we shield you from the world knowing it was you. Would you like me to tell you how I think we can manage that?”
She debated for a moment, then nodded.
My pulse jumped.
Oh, thank the Lord.
For the first time, I could see a light at the end of the dark tunnel we’d been trapped in.
KHLOE CHEWED ON HER pen as she studied the paper. “I think I’ve got it all. My dos and don’ts for the surgery. I don’t think I forgot anything.”
“I have my contract as well for Dr. Hern and the medical team.” I glanced over the top of her notepad. “Did you remember to put in that I was to make your medical decisions if you’re unable to?”
“Uh-huh. That one’s going to go over great with my parents. Can’t wait for my dad to see it. Are you sure it’s legal?”
“Yes. Completely.” I did a fast scan of her document. “I think we’re done and can sleep.”
I took her health directive and set it on the night table with my contract for Hern. I stretched out on the bed, yawning as I patted my chest for her to lie with me. Once she was settled, I hit the button for the window coverings to close, and the room went dark.
Lightly caressing my chest, she said, “It’s weird how unexpectedly things can get better…and worse. Like that, it’s not just your being a prince that threatens our privacy and happiness, it’s going to be who I am as well. Patient One.”
“Whatever happens, Khloe, we’ve done our best to see nothing awful happens.”
She relaxed back against me. “If there’s anything else, I can’t think of it.”
“Well, there’s only one,” I mused thoughtfully. “You could marry me, Khloe. Now, not later. Then no one, not even your parents, would question my right to make any decisions and follow your wishes.”
“Oh, jeez, Louise, our life,” she groused. “It’s like a bad movie at times. That has to be the worst reason ever for two people to get married. As a legal maneuver against one’s own parents to make medical decisions.”
“That’s a benefit,” I clarified. “The only reason I want to marry you, Khloe, is that I love you and can’t imagine my life without you.”
I’d almost nodded off when she asked, “Don’t you want to know why I agreed to marry you?”
My brows furrowed. “I thought it was the same as mine.”
“Nope,” she corrected spiritedly. “I said yes because I figured I wasn’t going to get rid of you, not after you walked into the pool for me in front of my entire family. A guy just doesn’t give up after doing something like that.”
Groaning, I gave her a weak little shake. “Cheeky girl. Always a joke, even in exhaustion.”
I couldn’t fathom where she g
ot the energy for that. But it settled on my heart like a smile, and I fell fast asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Khloe
The Past
WHEN I OPENED MY eyes, I found Damon sound asleep beside me, and the only sound in the room was his light snoring. I couldn’t tell for sure what time it was, but if the sky visible through the skylights was any indication, it was near sunset. It surprised me that I knew that. I hadn’t lived here that long, yet it was already as much my home as anywhere could be.
As I gazed at him, a hoarse whisper stirred in my memory. It’s not your time to leave me. I wasn’t sure exactly when in the chaos of the past twenty-four hours I’d heard Damon say that, but merely recalling it had the power to overtake my heart. The ragged emotion. The anguished plea. The all-consuming love. Only Damon could manage that with seven little words, and whether he knew it or not, it had given me the strength to confront my fears and find a way not to hurt him.
I ran a finger down his jawline, but he didn’t stir. Carefully, I slipped from his arms and went into the bathroom to dress. Damon believed that we should speak to my parents about our decision jointly. But he didn’t know my parents the way I did, how hard this would be for Mom, and how that would cloud my dad’s usual steady demeanor and judgment.
It was better I talked to them alone and cleared the air—without Damon. The last thing I wanted was my family at war with my fiancé. That wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility. I recalled with a shudder all the conflicts and heartache I’d caused my parents and family. And soon we’d enter an even more frightening phase of dealing with my illness.
I tried to keep from my mind what our decision would mean to them and remain hyperaware only of what I was doing. From my closet I grabbed a simple outfit: leggings, a long tunic sweater, and my UGGs.
Passing the kitchen, I found Mrs. Freeburg busy preparing dinner. My instincts weren’t off. It wasn’t sunset yet. I was pretty sure where I’d find my parents.
As I expected, I found them in the west drawing room, seated in chairs before the giant picture window so my mother could see her sunset. For a moment I hung back and studied them.
