Page 111 of I’m Already Gone

“Do you remember what you promised me that day?” I ask him.

He sniffles, the sound barely perceptible, and works his jaw. “I promised to be real with you, not perfect, because there is no such thing as perfection. I promised to always take care of you, no matter the day, month, season, or year. I promised to stand beside you, to remind you of your worth. I promised to keep you safe and provide a safe haven for you and our family. I promised to love you until I ca—can no longer br—breathe,” he stammers breathlessly, and it tears at something deep inside me.

I can hear the overwhelming love and the crushing anguish warring in his voice, the echoes of promises he spoke and kept… until he didn’t.

“You promised,” I whisper, not in accusation, but in a gentle reminder that some promises can never be broken.

He shakes his head, a single, glistening tear breaking free and tracing a path down his cheek. “I broke my promises, Lily.”

I smile and take his hands in mine. “Not really,” I correct him. “You took a detour for a while, lost your way. But you came back. And you kept your promise, Ethan. You are taking care of me. You are taking care of our family. It’s time for you to stop living in regret.”

I brush away the tear on his cheek. He grasps my hand, holding it steady against his skin, his eyes closing for a long moment, as if he’s trying to absorb my touch, this moment, or both.

“I love you so much, Lily. I never stopped,” he declares, his eyes opening, clearer now, filled with a desperate hope.

“I love you too, Ethan. And I never stopped.”

He grabs my face, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones, and pulls me closer. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice thick with unspent tears and a plea I can’t and won’t deny.

I barely nod, and his lips are on mine, soft at first, then desperate, a kiss that tastes salty and a love that, despite everything, has found its way home.

Ethan

I’m home.

Lily is my home.

She is my whole universe.

Her lips, soft and tentative at first, meet mine, and it is like breathing again after holding my breath for an eternity. I was starving without her.

Kissing Lily is like breathing air into my lungs. Without her, I was a soulless man. The moment she said she loved me was my undoing. I’ve wasted so much goddamn time without her in my arms, pretending I am okay, pretending I don’t ache for her every second. Now that she’s back in them, I swear to God, I am never letting her go again.

Her soft moans melt into my mouth, and my dick, already a rigid testament to years of suppressed longing, hardens painfully against my shorts. Lily must sense it, because she shifts, rubbing her body against mine, a slow, deliberate grind that steals what little air I have left. My mouth gapes open against hers, breathing hard and heavy.

“God, Lily… we can’t.” The words tear from me, heavy with regret and fear. It’s not that I don’t want to, because I do. I want it so badly that it terrifies me.

Her body stiffens. “Oh.”

That single syllable is a punch to the gut. She pulls away so quickly that the sudden loss of her warmth, her taste, is like a limb being severed.

I look down, my eyes still dazed with lust, to see that she is already turning, her shoulders slumped, making her way back to the truck, each step defeated.

“Wait, Lily!” I shout before my body catches up. I break into a run, closing the distance between us in two frantic strides.

“Lily.” I wrap my arm around her tiny waist, pulling her flush against me. “Please, stop. Talk to me.”

She doesn’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry,” she croaks. “I thought you… You wanted me. But I understand why you wouldn’t with how I look now.”

My heart shatters at her confession. Anger, hot and furious, surges through me, not at her, never at her. But at the goddamn cancer that has tried to steal her light.

“No, Lily,” I growl, cupping her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me, to see the truth in my eyes. “You have it all wrong.”

Without giving her a chance to argue, I scoop her into my arms bridal style and hold her close as I stomp back to the truck.

Opening the bed of the truck with one hand, I sit her on the edge, her feet dangling. “Don’t go anywhere.”

I rearrange the pillows and blankets and set the lights back up, setting up the scene. The same way, when we made love underneath the stars the night I proposed.