It works both ways.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I tell her. “We’re going to fight this just as we always have.”
And in that moment it’s true. It’s true because it has to be. It’s true because there are no other options. Despite that chemo hasn’t kept it at bay. Despite that it’s spread to her abdomen. Despite. Despite. Despite.
“Look,” she says. She holds up her hand. On it is an engagement ring, perched daintily on her finger.
“You’re getting married?” I ask her.
“When I’m better,” she says.
I get in bed next to her. “You got engaged and you didn’t callme?”
“It happened at home last night,” she tells me. “He was bringing me dinner.”
“What?”
She looks at me, her eyebrows knit. “Pasta from Wild.”
I make a face. “I still can’t believe you like it there.”
“It’s gluten free,” she says. “Not poison. They have good spaghetti.”
“So anyway.”
“So anyway,” she says. “He brought me the pasta, and on top of the Parmesan was the ring.”
“What did he say?”
She looks at me and she’s right there—Bella, my Bella. Her face bright and her eyes lit. “You’ll think it’s corny.”
“I won’t,” I whisper. “I promise.”
“He told me that he’s been looking for me forever and, even though the situation is less than ideal, he knows that I’m his soul mate, and that he was always fated to end up with me.” She blushes pink.
Fated.
I swallow. “He’s right,” I say. “You always wanted someone who would just know it was you. You always wanted your soul mate. And you found him.”
Bella turns to me. She takes her hand and places it on the duvet between us.
“I’m going to ask you something,” she says. “And if I’m wrong, you don’t have to answer.”
I feel my heart rate accelerate. What if ... ? She couldn’t...
“I know you think we’re really different, and we are, I get that. I’ll never be someone who checks my weather app before I go outside or knows the number of days eggs can last in the fridge. I haven’t strategically built my life the way you have. But you’re wrong in thinking...” She wets her lips. “I think you’re capable of this kind of love, too. And I don’t think you have it.”
I let that sit between us for a moment. “What’s making you say that?” I ask her.
“Don’t you think there’s a reason you never got married? Don’t you think there’s a reason you’ve been engaged for almost five years? A five-year engagement was never in your plan.”
“We’re getting married now,” I say.
“Because,” Bella says. Her voice gets small. She seems to fold into herself next to me. “You think you’re on a clock.”
December 15.
“That’s not true. I love David.”
