She looked at me as though weighing my answers, if she could find any truth in it. Her eyes filled instantly, tears spilling before she could blink them back, the sight of her crying made my own heart squeezed.
“The diagnosis didn’t create my feelings, Claudie. It just stripped away every excuse I’d been hiding behind.”
I guided her hand to my chest, pressed it flat over my heart so she could feel how hard it was beating—too fast, almost painful.
“I married you because marrying you was the only thing I’d wanted. You arriving in Vegas just gave me the courage to stop being a coward and start being honest.”
“I’ve been nothing but a burden,” she whispered, as if confessing a crime. She shook her head, the words leaving her like she’d been holding them in.
“My parents crying all the time. Jack looking at me like I’m already gone. You carrying all this weight alone?—”
“Stop.” My eyes burned, my throat tightening with something close to panic, my heart thudding painfully. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true though. Everyone’s lives would be easier if I just?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” I pulled her out of the chair and into my arms before she could finish the sentence that shatteredme. I held her firmly when she tried to resist. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
She fought me for a heartbeat, then collapsed against me like her strength had finally run out. Her hands fisted in my shirt and she buried her face in my shoulder and just broke.
“I married you because I loved you.” The words came out fierce against her hair. “The memory loss wasn’t a burden. Claudette.Watching you fall in love with me while I knew what was coming and you didn’t… that was the cruelest thing I’ve ever lived through. But I’d do it infinite times. I’d watch you discover me over and over. I’d fall in love with you twice, ten times, a hundred times. Because any version of loving you is better than not having you at all.”
Her shoulders shook harder in my arms.
“I’m dying,” she breathed into my shoulder, the words breaking apart. “You need to let me go.”
“I don’t know how much time we have left,” I said, tightening my hold like I could anchor her to this world. “But I’m not letting go. I’m holding tighter. It doesn’t matter what the doctors say or how long we have. You’re it for me. You’ve always been it. I’ll love you for whatever time we get—weeks, days, hours. “I’ll love you through all of it. And I’ll love you after you’re gone. Time doesn’t get a vote.”
She made a sound caught between a laugh and a sob—grief and love tangled together. I couldn’t tell. Didn’t matter. I just held her while she shook apart in my arms, while tears soaked through my shirt and warmed my skin, while the city kept glowing outside like nothing had changed when everything had.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, voice breaking. “For making you love me. For making you watch me die and?—”
“Stop apologizing.” I cupped her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. “I want us to live without apologies. Just us. Just the moments we have left.”
She searched my face for a long moment, like she was trying to find the lie she expected to be there.
She gave me a small nod, wiping tears with the back of her hands. Something loosened in my chest. Not relief—relief would come later, if it came at all. But something like hope. Like maybe we could do this. Maybe we could face what was coming together instead of me facing it alone while she floated through borrowed time.
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” I cupped her face in both hands, thumbs brushing away tears that kept falling anyway. “Whatever you want. Wherever you want to go. However you want to spend it. We’ll do all of it.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Okay.”
I pulled her close again and we stayed there on the floor of my office, holding each other while Vegas glowed outside and time kept ticking away whether we wanted it to or not.
We had time. Not enough—never enough—but time all the same.
And I was going to make every second count.
CHAPTER 17
Claudette
The private jethummed beneath us as we climbed into the California sky. I’d settled into the plush leather seat by the window, watching the desert landscape shrink below us.
Michael was stretched out in the seat across from me, one ankle crossed over his knee. I used to be terrified of flying, but with Michael beside me, the sky felt like the safest place I could exist.
I studied him, my heart filling up with warmth. He was loving me through it all, all I could think was I could die without regrets, but at the same time, I wished I had more time to spend with him.
