Page 100 of Just Ten Seconds

I take out my phone and look up the court documents from my and Benjamin’s trial. The victims of Benjamin’s financial crimes are listed below. New York Clinical Trial Foundation comes up as one of them.

“Something happened.” Dean’s voice drops. My eyes do as well. “I don’t know what, but the day before she was set to start treatment, the funding was pulled. The charity said they couldn’t help her. The doctors were no help. They offered their apologies. Can you imagine that? They looked my dying wife in the eye as she held our daughter, and they said there was nothing they could do. I never hated anyone in the medical profession as much as I hated those people. They had the medicine, and they refused to give it because of dollars and cents.”

Nicole’s time.

It was stolen from her.

By me.

When I blew the whistle on Benjamin’s crimes, the accounts were frozen, and the falsified assets were revealed.

Is it possible Nicole was supposed to receive her donation at the same time? Yes, I realize.

It’s more than possible. It’s probable.

Dean’s staggered speech echoes in the depth of my spirit as I clutch my phone to my chest. “Nicole was running out of time. I went crazy, spent my days writing to politicians and calling up donors. My calls went unanswered. My emails unopened. That’s when she said she didn’t want to live like this. She didn’t want to spend her days watching me panic about losing her. She didn’t want to live in front of a computer screen, hoping for a miracle. She didn’t want to spend her days in a hospital. She wanted to live them with her family.”

I look around the doorframe. He’s still staring at the floor. His legs apart and his jaw tight.

“We sold our house, and my uncle took over my business temporarily. We traveled to all the places she wanted to see with Amanda before she died. Disney World, Busch Gardens, even Sesame Place. We flew to the Grand Canyon. We rented an RV in Northern California and started the trip skiing. Then, we drove down the coast until we were surfing in San Diego.”

His thumb glides under his eyes. I so want to run to him, but I know I shouldn’t.

“We came home when she was too frail to walk. She spent the last month in her mother’s living room, being doted on by the people who’d raised her and loved on by the ones she’d chosen to make her family. We talked until she was too weak to speak. Her days were mostly spent asleep. I just sat by her side, holding her hand.”

He looks at his palm, running his fingers over where the lifeline would be. He clenches it into a fist and brings it to his mouth. “I was sitting at her bedside, holding her hand. She was sleeping when I heard this gasp. It was like she was trying to breathe. Suddenly, it stopped. The life just left her body. I felt it. I knew. And even though I’d had seven years with Nicole and a year to prepare for that moment, I couldn’t help but wish for more time. Any amount of time would have sufficed.”

His tears glisten as he looks at his hand and the place where his wedding ring once was.

“Just ten seconds. That’s all I wish I had with my Nicole. There are so many things I could tell her in that amount of time. I love you. I’ll miss you. Thank you for Amanda. And most importantly, I’d do it all over again.”

My hand is on my chest. The tears flow down my cheeks. It’s almost impossible to breathe. But I do. Shallow. Quietly.

Tracey holds her hand up to Dean. He doesn’t take it. He just stands there, staring at his own.

“Thank you, Dean, for sharing your story,” she says in her warm tone. “We’ve watched you in this group and waited for you to open up like this for some time now. What made you finally decide to speak?”

The side of his mouth quirks up. The lines around his eyes crinkle as he looks at Tracey and declares, “I met a woman. A smart, beautiful, caring woman. She is strong without realizing how resilient she is. When you’re in need, she’s the first to help, and her ability to give is endless. When we met, my daughter was in need, and she was the only person who stepped in to help. I knew in that moment that she was special.

“Amanda adores her. Anyone who has lost someone knows the biggest fear is that they will be forgotten. She helped Amanda remember her mother, and it was beautiful. And as our friendship grew, she took this place beside me as my other half. The one I need to navigate this thing called fatherhood. This thing called life.

“She makes me laugh. I haven’t smiled this much in years. And when I’m not smiling, I’m in awe. She is breathtaking. Long brown hair and hazel eyes that you can get lost in all day.”

With his words, he looks up and locks eyes with me. I might have thought I was a fly on the wall. A ghost in the room. Little did I know, he’s known all along that I was here.

“I’ve heard about love after loss,” he says with a deep, searing gaze looking right at me. They’re telling me he’s ready.

His heart, his soul, his past, and his present are all for me.

This whole time, he wasn’t just speaking to a room full of strangers. He was talking to me. He wanted me to hear his story in his most vulnerable form. I know this because when he opens his mouth again, it’s with the one thing I’ve wanted to hear from him, and yet I am absolutely terrified of it.

“I never thought it would happen for me,” he says. “And as scared as I am to love someone again, she makes me believe in hope.”

“I’ll take tequila. Neat.” I slam my hand on the bar with a fifty-dollar bill beneath my palm.

Jackie climbs on the stool next to me at Joe’s Pub. There’s a 5 Seconds of Summer song playing, and it’s keeping a quick beat to the wild thoughts wavering in my mind.

“Okay there, killer. I’m the first to say you need to party, but the look on your face says you don’t just want to drink. You want to get wasted.”