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WHEN IT COMES FOR ME

SEPTEMBER 2021 – 32 YEARS OLD

The house is quiet as I kick out of my boots, tossing my keys to the entrance table. I didn’t sleep at all last night, and I’m exhausted. They kept me in the hospital overnight, and I met with oncology in the morning. Who would have known they’d move so quickly? I’m not sure if it’s because I was in the hospital already—or if it’s because I’m terminal.

Terminal.

Hopeless…

My eyes burn.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Faye leans her shoulder into the hall wall, clutching a cup from Cherry’s. She’s in ripped jeans that are frayed around her ankles and a cream sweater that makes her look soft and far too fucking precious to face what she’s about to face.

To face what I can’t protect her from…

“Yeah.” I move in close, forcing a smile that feels far too brittle.

I told her we drank too much to drive last night while golfing. I told her we were getting a room. Guys night, I’d said.

I feel like shit for everything. For lying. For being in the hospital. For having cancer.

For being terminal.

“You look like hell.” She pushes my hair from my forehead with the hand not cradling her treasured maple latte. A small, curious smile tugs at her pretty mouth. “How many beers did you have?”

“Not enough.” I hope I play my grimace off for a rogue smile. I think I’ve succeeded when she rolls her eyes.

“Who won?”

“Tanner. Hands down, Tanner won.” He gets to live. There’s nothing growing in his brain—devouring the time he has left here.

So, yeah, he wins.

Faye gives me a pitiful, “Next time.” As she pats my chest.

There won’t be a next time. I refused treatment.

Without treatment, I don’t have a year.

The oncologist told me to sleep on it. I see him again next week.

“Maybe in the next life.” I pull her hips closer, until she’s fitted into me.

“Oh, stop it,” she tuts. “You’re not that bad at golf.”

I change the subject. “Where are the kids?”

“Owen slept over at Colton’s. Mom grabbed Mabel first thing to join her and Elise for a girls’ day at the mall.”

“The mall?” I slip my hands beneath the fabric of her soft sweater, touching softer skin. “You didn’t want to go?”

She shakes her head, biting into her lip. “I wanted to see you.”

I love this woman. God, I love her.

I love her so much, for a moment, it feels like it’s too much. Like it might burst from me, leaking from the fragile seams that hold me together.

“I love you, Faye.” Gravel spills out around my words in emotions I’m helpless to contain. “You know I love you, right?”