Page 112 of What Should Have Been Ours

I let out a breath, shaking my head before standing up and pulling him into a hug.

“Alright…alright,” he grumbles. “Don’t get all sappy, okay…”

I laugh, shaking my head.

By the time the night winds down and everyone leaves, Gabrielle pulls me toward the bedroom, saying she has one more surprise.

I grin, my hands sliding down to her hips. “Oh yeah?” I murmur. “What kind of surprise are we talking about?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Just shut up and look.”

She lifts her shirt slightly, tugging her leggings down just enough to reveal a small EKG heartbeat inked right below her hip bone.

I freeze, just staring.

She meets my eyes, smiling. “It’s yours.”She runs a hand over it softly. “No matter what happens, Cam…I’ll always have my favorite part of you with me.”

I slowly drop to my knees in front of her, my hands gently sliding under her shirt as I press my lips to the ink.

“Gabrielle,” I whisper against her skin.

The heart of this girl amazes me.

She shivers under my touch, fingers sinking into my neck as I trail slow kisses over the tattoo before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.

“I love you:”

She swallows, brushing my jaw with her fingers. “I love you too, Cam.”

And then I stand, backing her up against the bed. “I hope you didn’t think this would be the last gift I’d be expecting tonight.”

45

Gabrielle

Sitting on the edge of Cam’s bed, I fold the last of his T-shirts and stuff them into his hospital bag. Every single item in this bag feels too real—like a start to the countdown to one of the hardest parts of this journey.

Cam is sitting on the floor beside the bed, leaning back against it, rolling a pair of socks between his fingers like he has all the time in the world. His long legs stretched out in front of him, and even though he looks tired, there’s still this teasing smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs, tossing the socks into the bag.

I glance down at him. “You say a lot of things, babe. You gotta be more specific.”

His smirk deepens as he tips his head back against the mattress, looking up at me with those dark, beautiful eyes. “I’m marrying you after the transplant.”

My hands freeze over the zipper of the bag, my heart stumbling over his words.

We haven’t set a date for the wedding. With treatments and the looming transplant, we haven’t focused much on it.

I swallow. “Cam…”

“I don’t care how this goes,” he interrupts. “I don’t even care if it takes or not. I don’t care how long it takes for me to recover. I don’t care how bad it gets. I don’t care if I have to say my vows from a damn hospital bed.” He reaches for my hand, threading our fingers together. “I’m ready for you to be my wife.”

I squeeze his hand, the emotions getting heavy in my throat. “You need to focus on getting better first.”

“I am,” he says softly, rubbing slow circles against my palm with his thumb. “That’s exactly what I’ll be doing. Because the second I’m strong enough, I’m making you a Hayes.”

His words settle deep inside my chest, warm and terrifying all at once. I’ve imagined this moment, imagined marrying him, for my whole life. I’ve pictured building a life together. But I never imagined it would happen like this. With a clock running in the background. With the future feeling so uncertain.