A future I wasn’t sure I would be there for.
I couldn’t be selfish. I couldn’t ask her to become my wife only to leave her as my widow. I had lived that life, and I knew what it did to you—the emptiness, the silence, the way everything good in your life became something that hurt to remember. I wouldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t. It didn’t sit right with me.
When I got back into bed, she stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open as she looked up at me.
“I have two favours to ask you,” I said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
“Anything,” she replied softly, her voice still laced with sleep as she searched my eyes.
I hesitated for a second, then continued. “Remember the project I was telling you about?”
She nodded.
“I was wondering whether you would be able to take over and help to complete it.”
Her brows furrowed immediately. “But I don’t know anything about construction or development.”
I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.
“Jiya,” I said, holding her gaze. “If there’s one thing I know about you… it’s how much you love to learn and explore, even if it’s not your forte.” I reached for her hand, squeezing it lightly. “This project means a lot to me. I want to make sure it gets completed.”
Her expression softened. “Then I will make sure it does get completed. I promise.”
She leaned in and kissed me.
I let myself get lost in her, in the warmth, in the familiarity, in the love that felt so real.
“What’s the second favour?” she asked, pulling back slightly.
This was the harder one.
I took a breath.
“I don’t want to leave you as a widow. I don’t think it’s fair to you or the children.”
I saw the protest rising in her eyes before she even spoke, so I lifted my hand and gently pressed a finger to her lips.
“I don’t think we should get married. I don’t think I would survive until then either.”
The silence that followed felt unbearable.
Tears filled her eyes instantly. She pulled away from me and stood up, turning to face me fully, her chest rising and falling with the force of her emotions.
“When you proposed to me,” she said, her voice trembling, “you said you wanted to write and live your happy ending withme.” She wiped her tears quickly. “I accepted your proposal. You’ve made decisions for yourself and how you want to continue your life, and I accepted that.”
She walked to me and then cupped my face, forcing me to look at her.
“But when it comes to us,” she said, her voice breaking slightly, “I’m not going to accept it.”
There was a finality in her voice.
“I still want my happy ending with you,” she said, her eyes locked onto mine. “And I want it asyourwife…yourwidow.”
I felt a painful tightness in my throat.
“I want it whether it is for one day or a hundred days,” she continued. “I want it whether it is for today, tomorrow, or the end of time.” Her thumbs brushed against my cheeks. “I want it withyou.”
My defences crumbled piece by piece.
