Page 128 of What Should Have Been Ours

“You know,” he murmurs, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of my shirt, tracing patterns along my bare skin, “I think I’ve got a few things that I need to brush up on before our wedding night.”

I arch a brow. “Oh? And what exactly are these things?”

He leans in, his lips brushing along the back of my neck, his voice low. “I want to make sure your body knows it’ll always be mine too.”

My breath catches, and he laughs quietly, his hand slipping further beneath my shirt, fingers grazing just beneath the band of my shorts. “Make sure you never forget, even after I’m gone.”

I shudder, my body instantly reacting to his words alone.

His mouth finds mine, and suddenly, I forget everything else around us. The weight of the world. The ache in my chest that’s constantly there. The ticking clock we refuse to acknowledge. Right now, there’s only this.

His hands keep roaming, his lips trailing a path of fire against my skin. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered word branding itself onto me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out as his mouth traces the curve of my jaw. “You know that, right?”

I open my mouth to respond, but he doesn’t let me, his lips finding mine again, stealing my breath, stealing my thoughts.

“I still can’t believe you’re gonna be my wife,” he murmurs, his hands slipping beneath my shirt, his touch becoming possessive. “Do you have any idea how hot that is? That I get to call you mine—forever.”

I shiver at the adoration in his voice, at the way he says it like he can manifest an actual forever for us just by speaking it out loud.

“I already am yours, Cam.”

His grip tightens on my hips, his face pressing against my neck. “Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it at the altar, wanna finally hear you take my name, wanna see you walking around with that beautiful ring on that tells the world you belong to me.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat, refusing to let reality seep in. “You’re not the only one who wants that,” I whisper.

His lips curve into a smirk. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His voice drops lower, sending a shiver through me. “You have no idea how lucky I am to have you, to love you, to have found my way back to you.” He presses another lingering kiss to my lips before standing and taking my hand. “Promise me you won’t take it off after I’m gone. Even if one day you find someone else…”

“Cam—”

“Please.”

“I’ll never take it off Cam, but—”

“No more talking, that’s all I needed.” He smiles, walking me into the bedroom. “I’ve got better things to do with you right now.”

As he lays me down, I can tell that we’re going to try to forget reality for a little while longer. And I think that’s exactly what we need right now.

56

Cameron

I’ve had some really good days lately.

Being off all the treatments and on the right pain management plan has made a world of difference. I feel lighter, stronger, and more like myself than I have in months.

I’ve seen this pattern play out countless times before—the highs before the lows, the rise before the inevitable crash—but since I know it won’t last, I’m taking it for what it is and riding it out.

Every good day I get is another chance to make it into something meaningful, to give Gabrielle something beautiful to hold onto when I’m gone.

I’ve lived with this disease for most of my life, and whether I realized it or not, I think I always accepted that it would be what took me out of this world one day.

That part? I can handle. But leaving her? That’s something I’ll never be okay with.