Page 106 of What Should Have Been Ours

“Can you blame me?”

I can see the exhaustion settling behind his playful gaze. He looks good—better than he has in weeks. But I know he’s still pushing himself.

I reach up, cupping his face. “I know you’re excited to be home, but try to take it easy, okay? You still need to rest.”

He exhales, reluctantly nodding.

I glance around, spotting the small bottle of lotion sitting in the basket we brought to the hospital during his chemo sessions. I grab it, then tilt my head. “Come on. Let’s go lie down. I’ll rub you, and we’ll just relax for the rest of the night.”

His eyes darken as he smirks. “What kind of massage are we talking about? Is there a happy ending situation or—?”

I roll my eyes and smack his arm lightly. “Cam.”

He groans dramatically. “No fun.”

I laugh, and before I can argue, he scoops me up again, carrying me into the bedroom while I clutch onto him.

He sets me down once we’re inside his room, and I set the bottle down, turning to him. “Take your shirt off.”

His brows shoot up. “Bossy.”

I shoot him a look, and he grins, lifting his shirt and tossing it onto the floor. Then I hook my fingers into the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down until he’s left in just his black boxer briefs. “Lie down.”

Cam flops onto the bed, sighing in contentment as he stretches out. I climb onto the mattress, straddling the back of his thighs, and pour the lotion into my hands before smoothing it over his back, starting at his shoulders and working my way down.

His muscles are tight and tense, but as I massage, I feel him slowly relax beneath me.

After a few moments, his voice breaks through the quiet. “So…what kind of wedding do you want?”

I pause, smiling at the thought. “I’m not sure, maybe just something simple?”

He chuckles. “You used to say you wanted some elaborate, fairytale-type wedding with, like, five hundred people, performers, the whole shebang.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I think I’ve outgrown that. I’d be happy just going to the courthouse with you tomorrow.”

His head tilts slightly, so I can see his smirk. “Yeah?”

I nod. “But I know our friends and family would kill us for that, so…something small. Intimate. Somewhere outside the city, maybe somewhere by the water after you’re better.”

Cam hums in approval. “Sounds perfect, except—,” he pauses, debating what to say, “I don’t think I want to wait that long.”

“Cam—”

“Listen, I know you have faith for the both of us that I’ll get better—but—if I don’t. If my time is limited. I want to at least marry you before I’m gone.”

“I need you to stop talking like that, Cam,” I argue, not wanting to accept any other possibility. “We have our whole lives ahead of us.”

Cam shifts underneath me, flipping onto his back. He pulls me up towards him, his hands finding the back of my neck as he gazes up at me.

“Gab,” he murmurs, bringing one hand up to trace my face, brushing some of my hair behind my ear.

I lean into his touch, waiting.

“I want to die your husband. Whether that’s in a couple of months or sixty years from now, okay?”

As the emotion swells in my chest, all I can do is whisper back, “Okay.”

His eyes search mine before he pulls me down, capturing my lips in a slow, emotionally soothing kiss. And as I kiss him back, I silently promise him that no matter how much time we have, I’ll spend every second loving him.