We didn’t worry about clocks or dawns, only about trying to find peace to our pain.
And when my eyes dried and my heart settled, I stroked her hair softly. “I’ve loved you every second of my life.”
Her body flinched against mine, her head burrowing into my belly. “Don’t. Don’t do this.”
“You’re the reason I’ve been blessed with so much.”
“Stop, please stop.”
“You’ve been more than just a wife to me; you’ve been my entire reason of existence.”
“God…Ren.” Her tears came fresh. Her hold bound tight.
I knew I was hurting her, but she had to know.
Had to hear me repeat all the things she already knew, so she’d understand that none of it would change. My love for her would go on and on. She had to accept that. Had to accept that my physical love was almost done, but my spiritual love would never end.
“Without you, I would’ve died many years ago, and for that, I want to thank you. Thank you for giving me you, Della. Thank you for giving me a son. Thank you for giving me us.”
Her fingernails dug deep as if she could latch onto me forever.
“I love you.” I coughed quietly. “But those words aren’t enough. They don’t do justice to how much I care.”
A sob broke free. “I love you, Ren. I love you more than I can bear.” Her nails turned to lips, kissing my stomach with desperation. “Please, you’re still here. Don’t talk as if you’re not.”
I ignored her, telling her a story like I used to when she was a little girl and couldn’t sleep. “The moment you took your first breath in that monster’s den, you stole mine and have held it in your palm ever since.
“On the days I’d see you with your mother, I’d curse you. On the evenings where I’d slink past, I’d study you. I was forever aware of you, wishing I could share your food, your innocence, your touch.
“My thoughts were that of a starving kid but now, as a man, I look back on those fuzzy childhood memories and wish I could live it all over again. I wish I could go back with the wisdom I have now and understand what you’d mean to me.
“I’d never get angry with you. Never yell or leave. I wish I could relive every touch, every smile, first word, and first kiss. I wish you could feel how grateful I was every time you kissed me, laughed with me, gave me the honour of calling you mine.
“I’m grateful, Della. For all of it.
“Without your selflessness and the unconditional way you made me fall for you, I doubt I’d be whole now. I wouldn’t be able to lie here with you in my arms, knowing what is about to happen, and be calm enough to love you until that last fucking second.”
“Stop.” Her sobs drenched my naked skin, but I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
The story wasn’t over.
“I know it wasn’t easy for you, waiting until I opened my eyes. Hiding the fact you were in love with me when I was so stupidly blind. But you need to know I was in love with you for far longer than I ever let on. I’d wanted you for years.
“You truly are my other half, Della.” My voice broke, cracked, shattered. “And now…now I’m leaving you again. But this time, it’s not by choice.”
My arm latched her closer, smothering her against me. “It’s not fair. I know I should say I’m okay with it, but, Ribbon…I’m fucking terrified.” A cough exploded from my lips.
“Ren.” Della crawled up my body, curling into me with her knees bent and face tucked in the crook of my shoulder, her tears loud in my ear.
I hugged her closer as my own tears came again, and honesty that I’d promised myself would stay trapped inside overflowed. “For the first time, you won’t be there. I won’t have you by my side. I don’t want to go anywhere without you. I can’t do it. I-I—” I coughed again, working myself up, causing my lungs to falter.
“Ren…stop.”
“No, I-I have to get this out. I’m so sorry, Della. So eternally sorry that I’m leaving against our wishes. I wish I never got sick. I wish I could continue holding you—”
“I know. Me too.”
“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t believe I have the audacity to complain about dying while you…you have the harder path. I never wanted to do this to you, Della. Never wanted to cause you so much pain.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“And I’m sorry for being weak now. For ruining this even more.”
“You’re not—”
“You were my biggest joy, and now, you’re my greatest sadness.” I swiped my face free from tears, glowering at the blackness. “Fuck, I’m not being fair. I’m being so selfish. So cruel. I should tell you I’m not afraid. That I’m okay saying goodbye—”
A cough ripped my voice apart, tearing through the night.
It took a while before I could breathe well enough to continue. “I should accept that this is just life. But I don’t accept it. I rage against it. Because fate’s plan was you. You and me. Together. And now…”
I coughed again, shaking both of us.
“Shush, Ren. I know. I know more than you think.” Her touch feathered over my wet cheeks, her hand shaking. “I’m just as angry as you. Just as twisted with hate at how unfair all of this is. I’m not ready to say goodbye, either.” She kissed me, her sadness mixing with mine. “I never will be.”
I held her close, kissing her violently, wanting to drink her soul and take her with me. “Without you, what am I? Who am I?” My teeth nipped at her lip. “Almost every memory I have, you’re in. Almost every recollection, you’re there. And I know I’m the same for you. Our lives are so entwined, there is no before. No time where we were separate. Therefore, there can be no ending. Right?”
I kissed her again and again. “We’re tied together for life a-and we’ll just have to hold onto that. This isn’t the end. It can’t be. It just can’t.”
Della nodded, kissing me as furiously as I kissed her. “I’m tied to you just as surely as you’re tied to me, Ren Wild. We’ll never lose each other. Ever.”
Our breathing was haggard as our foreheads pressed together, and Della climbed back onto my lap.
Somehow, I was hard even though I was distraught, and she slid me inside her, connecting us even while we said our goodbyes.
As we rocked together, I allowed myself to be spiteful. To speak the truth. To ease some of the burden I’d been carrying. “You’ll have a lifetime without me. I’m fucking heartbroken that it won’t be us anymore.”
Her sobs came hard. “Me too.”
“I’m jealous of your future, Little Ribbon.”
“Don’t be. I will always belong to you.”
“I’m livid at my inability to stop this. I want to bargain with the devil for one more year. I’d sell my soul for just one more day with you.”
“I’d sell mine, too.”
We grinded against each other, roughly, meanly. My hands guided her hips, clamping her down harder, forcing her to take all of me.
Talking ceased as we fought each other and our grief.
My coughing mixed with our groans, and hands slapped over our mouths to stay silent and not wake Jacob.
Before, we’d made love.
Now, we fucked.
And it was messy, wet, and nasty.
It was our version of the war inside our hearts, the physical need to hurt each other when none of this was our fault.
Finally, when my thrusts went deep and Della came around me, and my body released the sick cocktail of rage and relief, we clung to each other, sweaty and sad, our tempers no longer as hot.
My lungs were in agony.
My heart no longer rhythmical but failing hour by hour.
Kissing her cheek, I breathed, “I need you to move on, Della. I want you to be happy. I need you to live even when I’m no longer here.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes. Live for Jacob. Live for me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” Hugging her close, I promised, “You can. Because this isn’t the end. We will never end because that isn’t what true love is. True love is constant. It has no beginning, middle, or end. Life might end, but love…that’s immortal.”
“I love you so much, Ren.”
“I know.”
“I’ll always be yours.”
I nodded, accepting her vow even when I shouldn’t. “I’ll wait for you, Della. I’ll watch you and Jacob…somehow.”
“Promise me you’ll always be near.”
“I promise.”
She kissed me sweet, a single word on her breath. “Good.”
And I knew what I needed to say in return.
A phrase that meant so much.
Four little letters that held such history and hope.
Tangling my fingers in her hair, I touched my lips to hers.
And all I whispered was, “Fine.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
DELLA
* * * * * *
2032
REN DIED ONE week after Jacob turned ten.
It was as if he’d been holding on until that special age.
Clinging to life to see his son turn the same age he’d been when he’d saved me.
The symbolism in that tore out my heart, injecting exquisite sorrow that I’d never overcome.
I’d been rescued from a life of murder and hell by a ten-year-old boy who’d fallen in love with me. And I’d been left in the hands of another ten-year-old boy who was just as destroyed as I was now that his father was gone.
The fifth and final incident.
The one I’d hoped so badly wouldn’t come true.
My tears hadn’t stopped since I’d woken in the night, six days ago, and knew.
I knew.
I couldn’t explain it.
After we’d returned from Jacob’s birthday in the forest, neither of us mentioned our goodbyes in the tented dark. We continued as normal, with Ren slowly fading, and his refusals about going to the hospital coming often.
Rick Mackenzie had taken to visiting us, instead of Ren going to him, and the last house call…we’d all known would be the final one.
He’d wanted Ren to be admitted. To be put on Fentanyl and a steady dose of whatever drugs could extend his final moments.
But Ren refused.
His life belonged to the land and sky, and his death wouldn’t be spent in a building with concrete and glass.
I honoured that choice even if I hated watching him dim before me. How his body slowly gave up, piece by piece. How his energy levels diminished, breath by breath.
To start with, I trawled the internet for a last-minute miracle. I studied the use of goji berries and apricot kernels and every supposed super food out there.
But in the end, Ren stole my phone.
He turned off the internet, returning us to a world where it was just us and no one else, and we lived in our memories because that was all that was left.
The Wilsons visited often, all of us tasting what lingered in the air.
Liam and Chip and John shared a drink with Ren while they watched some nonsense on TV. Cassie and Nina curled up against him, saying their own goodbyes. And Jacob and me…we were his constant shadow. Part of him. Part of us. So damn aware that he’d be gone soon, and the house would be so empty without him.
And then six days ago, that terrible night arrived.
Ren coughed, but no more than often.
He had a fever, but not hotter than before.
We cleaned our teeth together, read a bit before turning out the light, and kissed each other goodnight like we did every evening.
A simple, domestic night.
The epitome of intimacy and marriage.
I lay beside him, listening to that god-awful wheeze—the wheeze that I hated for stealing what was mine.
And I kissed him again. And again. Never fully satisfied.
Finally, he drifted off with our hands touching and bodies moulded into one.
I had dreams about boys and backpacks and kisses.
Midnight ticked onward, creeping us into a new tomorrow.
But somewhere between two and three, while the moon seduced the stars, I woke up.
Something prickled my awareness.
Something triggered the trip line of my instincts.
I sat up in bed and looked around.
There was something there.
Something unseen.
My breath turned shaky as something cool rippled over my skin.
And I knew.
Just knew.
Tears flowed before I even turned to Ren.
He lay on his back instead of propped up, but he wasn’t coughing.
He looked more at peace than he had in years—no pain, no torment, no struggle.
Lying down, I pressed against his side, looped my arm around his waist, and hooked my leg over his.
He smiled in his sleep, his nose nuzzling my hair.
I squeezed him hard. So hard.
And then, the rattle and wheeze that had become so familiar hitched and halted.
And tears streamed unbidden down my face.
There was no time to call for help. No seconds to waste screaming for him to wake up or begging him to fight for just one more day.
He’d protected me.
Provided for me.
Given me everything he had to give.
And in that darkness between the hours of two and three, the boy who would forever hold my heart took his last breath.
His body was still beside me…but his spirit…
It’d gone.
And I’d felt him.
I’d woken to his kiss; I’d shivered in his goodbye.
Swallowing silent sobs, I laid a hand on his chest, begging for a heartbeat.
His skin was still warm.
But there was no heartbeat.
For a second, I was repulsed.
The animalistic part of me blaring with warning to stay away from the dead.
But this was Ren.
This was the other piece of my soul.
I was not afraid of him.
And so, I hugged my husband, telling him he was not alone.
And even though it ripped my heart apart, I told him to go and be happy.
To be free.
For the first time in my entire life, I was no longer part of a pair.
He’d gone to a place I could not go.
And as dawn crested and his skin grew steadily colder, life intruded on our bedroom tomb.
Jacob.
He’d be awake soon.
He couldn’t see.
And so, I’d done what any mother would do.
I left my dead soulmate and climbed out of bed to lock the door. I picked up the phone and ordered an ambulance. I called Cassie and John and told them.
I dressed in a fugue and went to my son’s bedroom to hold him, tell him, break him.
And we cried together.
God, we cried so much.
We cried when Ren was taken away.
We cried when he didn’t come back.
We cried when two days passed, then three and four and five.
Without Cassie and John, my son and I would’ve starved that week.
It was nothing but a blur of black, perpetual despair.
Ren’s body was cremated as per his wishes, the funeral already arranged, his Will and Testament activated seamlessly as everything was choreographed from the grave.
I didn’t remember sleeping or eating or even living…just existing…just surviving.
I’d died with Ren, but on the outside, I still played my part.
I consoled our—my—son.
I held him close as he sobbed.
I whispered stories when he couldn’t sleep.
I did my best to do what Ren would have done and that was to protect him from the pain.
But now…I couldn’t protect him, because today, it was the last time we’d hold R
en in our arms.
The silver urn was heavy and gleamed in the sun.
The trees around us swaying and sad.
The funeral had been announced in the local paper, and I’d expected a quiet affair of the Wilsons and the doctor Ren had grown close to over the years.
I wasn’t prepared for the entire town to attend.
Deep in the heart of the forest with no strict address or location, teachers and parents, friends and policemen had all gathered to say farewell.
There were no chairs or service.
No priest or hymns.
Just me holding Ren’s ashes.
Standing at the altar of his church.
I didn’t think I could speak.
I knew I couldn’t do Ren justice, but as Jacob came to stand beside me, a breeze whisked through the trees, kicking up leaves in a wind-devil.
And once again that prickle, that knowledge overwhelmed me, and the tears that were in constant supply erupted.
I cried in front of strangers.
I sobbed in front of family.
And when I’d finished hugging Ren for the last time, I stood taller, braver, older, and opened the single printed page from the manuscript I’d been writing on and off for years. When Ren had bought me a new laptop, and I’d tasted the first signs of him leaving me, I’d turned to the salvation of the keys.
I’d done my best to write all the happy moments and try to forget the sad.
I focused on our fairy-tale, never knowing the words I’d chosen for my prologue would be part of the eulogy at Ren’s goodbye.
He was forty-two and gone.
A life cut far too short.
Jacob nudged me, holding out his arms for his father. “I’ll hold him, Mom. While you—” Tears strangled his boyish voice, but beneath the childhood pitch lurked the rasp of a man.
He’d aged overnight, and I finally understood why it was so important to Ren to never treat him as a kid. To forever nurture that wisdom that was already ingrained in his soul.
Ren needed Jacob to accept his place before he was no longer there to guide him, giving him knives and truths and chores normally withheld for a more mature age.
And he’d known he could handle it.
Because he’d handled it himself.
My vision blurred with yet more tears as I ducked to Jacob’s height and held out my arms. Without a word, I transferred my loved one into his son’s arms and brushed the skirts of my simple black dress.