"You're welcome, my dove."
???
"Oh, okay... wow..." I slur out, my tongue feeling heavy, and a slow smile curving my lips.
I'm back in a very cold, very white, very sterile pre-op room, uncomfortable on these scratchy hospital sheets, but none of that matters because Callum is here, gazing down at me like I'm the only person in the world.
He chuckles softly, "You feel it, my otter?"
"Oh, yeah," I giggle, my chest feeling so funny and warm, especially when I see the amused smile on Callum's face. I reach up and run my fingers over the thick cable-knit sweater that he's wearing. It's so soft, and clings wonderfully to his form, showing off his broad chest and shoulders.
He looks very warm and cozy.
And cuddly. So impossibly cuddly. I wish I could crawl into his lap and burrow into him like a groundhog or something. Touching and looking at him is good too. "Yeah, I feel... good. Like I'm floating. And buzzy. And happy. I'm so happy..."
Happy because I'm looking at my handsome man, who's looking back down at me.Goodness, did he get even handsomer? Is that even a word?It should be, and in the dictionary it should include a picture of Callum's face... actually, no, I don't want anyone else drooling over my otter...
"I don't want anyone but you drooling over me..." he leans closer and murmurs, voice dropping low with a mischievous tone, "... and on me."
"Can you read my mind?" I gape up at him, eyes wide.Otter, can you hear me?
Callum barks out a laugh that echoes off the sterile white walls, "No, baby, you said it out loud."
"Ohhh... that makes sense..." I blink up at him and smile again, slow and dreamy. "Wow... you'resopretty."
"Pretty?" Callum's eyebrow arches, smile curving his lips and causing his beard to twitch in amusement.
"Mhmm...prettiestman in the world... and you're mine..." I reach my hand up to cup his cheek, and I miss completely and hit his chin. He catches my flailing hand in his large, warm one—oh, wow, he's so warm—and holds it gently against his cheek, rubbing his jaw into my palm like Plot. I sigh dreamily. "My pretty Callum... I love you so, so,somuch... it's like I made you in a lab...Franken-Callum..."
I snort at my own joke, hearing some quiet laughter from the others in the room. Then I gasp, "Oh, wait no—Frankenstein is the scientist, not the Creature—"
"It's okay, baby." Callum soothes me, and I'm instantly distracted by his eyes. Like fresh, warm chocolate, shimmering a bit as he looks at me, "I'll be your Franken-Callum..."
"Nooo," I whine while shaking my head, though it's more of a loll, not a shake. My tongue feels like it's a thousand pounds, and it's hard to get the words out now. "Not Frankenstein. It's like... like I shook a book really hard and you just... poof, you fell out."
I giggle at the image the words create in my head: Callum falling out of one of the books in his store and appearing in my life just when I needed him.
Callum chuckles, "Oh?"
"Mhm... perfect, pretty man. Straight from the pages. Mine, all mine..."
"All yours, my otter," Callum's voice is thick, and he brings my hand to his chest, holding it in both of his warm ones. So cozy. So solid. His heart isthump-thump-thumping—a little faster than usual. "Always yours."
Closing my eyes, I hum happily at his words, drunk on love and that good stuff flowing into my IV. I know the smile on myface is silly, lopsided, loose. I don't even care—I feel good, I have a total dream man holding me, and I'm about to get the cancer cut off from my body.
Cancer.
Cut off.
From my body.
Oh, right, it’s December 30, surgery day.
Like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over me, my body goes cold instantly. The silly smile falls from my lips, and my eyes snap open, meeting Callum's. His own smile drops, and he leans closer to me, every muscle in his body tightening.
"Baby?" he whispers.
"I'm scared."
