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Helen couldn’t look at him, but she could feel how still he had become. “My illness… It is incurable. The doctors—they tried everything. And every remedy they tried just made me worse. Every patient with my symptoms that they have heard of has died young. And they said that I would die soon, too.”

There was a long pause. So long, in fact, that Helen started to wonder if he had left the room. She raised her head and noticed him just standing there, staring at her as if he didn’t recognize her.

“I don’t accept that,” he finally said.

“How many times have I said the same thing to myself? I told that to myself until my voice grew hoarse. I said that after every remedy that didn’t work, until the last doctor I saw almost killed me with bloodletting. Until he stood above my body and promised I’d be dead in weeks, months at best if Jarvis didn’t let him finish the treatment. Until Jarvis had cursed him out of his house and never let a single doctor by my side ever again. And then I realized that I had no recourse anymore. It’s not for you to accept, Ian. It’s my struggle. I am the one who has to live with it and accept it.”

“Well, then don’t,” Ian growled and stepped closer. He took her hands in his, his eyes pleading. “Don’t accept it. Fight.”

“I have fought, Ian. More than you can imagine. I fought so hard, I ended up spending two-thirds of my life behind closed doors, either sleeping or suffering. This is no life. But then I thought, why spend this time on treatment that doesn’t work and only makes me worse? Why suffer when I can enjoy whatever’s left of my short life? I decided to live my life to the fullest. As long as I can. And that’s why I came to you and asked you for lessons in passion. Because I wanted to experience whatever excitement I could before my passing. And you—” Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she had to take a breath before she could continue. “What I experienced while being with you exceeded all my expectations. I did something I thought I would never do again. I fell in love.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she looked away.

“If you want to experience this life to the fullest then let me help you,” he croaked. “Be my wife. Stay with me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t be this selfish, Ian. I’ve experienced the grief of losing a spouse. You don’t have to. You don’t deserve that. You deserve a lot more.”

Ian snorted. “You think it will be easier to let you go now than anywhere down the road? Then you’re fooling yourself! You think you’re going to die? Well, we are all going to die sooner or later. And who is to say that you will pass before me? A plague can get me anytime. I can get shot or get run over by a herd of horses. An old farmer I knew just tripped one day and split his skull on a stone. We never know how long we have. We can’t. The least we can do is be happy while we are alive.”

Helen looked at his blazing green eyes and could feel how much he wanted her to believe it was true. “But this is different. I know. As it is, I spend half of my life in the dark sleeping or writhing in pain. This is no life. And it is not my happiness that I am worried about.”

“So this is it.” He threw up his hands. “You’re going to hide in your dark corner without letting anyone in. You’re going to hide from life so that you won’t affect anyone else’s?”

“I want to spare you pain.”

“If that was true, you would have accepted my proposal. If that was true, you would have stayed with me. As my wife. Because the only time I feel pain is when you’re away.” He looked around the room briefly before stalking away from her. He picked up a book she’d been reading while she lay in bed and raised it before him. “Every book ends. Does it mean it’s not worth reading? Does it mean we shouldn’t enjoy the story? No matter how it ends, no matter how long or short it is, the journey is what matters.” He hurled the book onto the bed and stalked back to her. He took her hands and squeezed her fingers, imbuing her with his strength and conviction. “You are writing your book right now. And sure, it had some really awful chapters. Terrible and heartbreaking. But do you want the rest of your life to be like this? Spending your days in darkness and misery? Or do you want a happy ending? Because I’d rather have a few happy years with you than a hundred years without.”

His words struck a chord in her heart. She wanted a happy ending. No, she wanted a happy beginning, happy middle, and the rest of her life.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Helen replied in a last effort to sway him.

“Perhaps I don’t. But you do. You lost your husband, the man you loved with all your heart all too soon. If you knew that he was going to die early, would you not have married him? Would you give up the years you spent with him? Would you give up knowing Laney?”

Helen’s head shot up, and she could see on his face that he knew he hit the right spot. He didn’t relent. He continued going all the way. “If you knew that I was going to die in a month, but you would live until you were eighty, would you have foregone knowing me at all?”

Helen shook her head instantly, without thinking, because the thought of giving him up hurt so much. She wiped the remnants of her dried-up tears from her cheeks, her mind in turmoil.

She wanted to spare him pain, but she didn’t even think how much it would hurt her to give him up.

He stretched out his hand. “Then come with me, Lady McAllistair, and be my wife. In sickness and in health.”

She placed her hand in his, and he tugged her closer to him. “Until death do us part?”

“Until death do us part.”

Chapter 28

The next morning, Helen woke up before Ian and slipped out of bed unnoticed.

There was much to reconcile. First and foremost, she needed to let go of Greyson.

She had fallen in love with him when she was young and vulnerable. Her parents had just passed away, and she had started exhibiting the first symptoms of her illness. Somehow, the roles of inexperienced wife and sickly woman had fused into a single identity: her.

She had only just begun to discover herself, and she had let Greyson define her. Worse, she had let her illness define her.

She justified Greyson’s behavior, telling herself that she was the problem because the truth would hurt too much. But after meeting Ian and being treated in a way she had never dreamed she deserved, she realized that she had just been making excuses for the man she used to love.

And if before the realization would have hurt, now it set her free.

She was strong, and she was going to fight for her own happiness and the happiness of those around her. She couldn’t let herself waste away with this illness, not when she had so much to live for. She wanted to see Laney grow up and find her happiness in life. She wanted to spend years by Ian’s side.