Page 104 of I’m Already Gone

He lunged, trying to trap my mouth with his. “Screw that. Give me a damn kiss, woman!”

“Ethan!” I burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Lily?” Ethan’s voice, soft but firm, gently nudges me out of a truly blissful dream. My eyelids feel heavy, stuck closed for a moment.

I blink several times, slowly taking in my surroundings. Bright, tall windows, the sterile scent of antiseptic, and the familiar sight of an IV-line snaking into my arm. I sigh. Chemo treatment. Again.

I turn my head, finding Ethan settled in the chair beside me. His blue eyes, usually so vibrant, are clouded with that now familiar, worried concern. “What’s the matter?” I ask, licking my lips.

He swallows, a visible bob in his throat. “Nothing. Just… wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”

I manage a small, tired smile. “I’m still breathing, Ethan.”

“What were you dreaming about?” he asks, a slight change of subject, maybe to lighten the mood.

My cheeks warm. I turn my face slightly away, suddenly embarrassed to tell him that, even in my sleep, he was the star of the show. “Nothing,” I murmur, pulling the fleece blanket higher.

“Liar,” he scoffs softly. “Come on, tell me.”

I hesitate. “I was dreaming of the morning I told you I was pregnant with Maddy.”

Neither of us speaks for a long moment, letting the memory hang in the air.

After a beat, I turn back to him. His eyes are shining, but he quickly blinks. “I remember that morning,” he croaks, clearing his throat. “It’s a great memory.”

“Yeah,” I respond, my own voice quiet. “It really was.”

The nurse takes that moment to enter. “Hi, Lily! How are you feeling today?” she asks, smiling kindly as she checks my IV drip.

“Tired,” I admit, adjusting my neck pillow.

She nods. “Only twenty more minutes on this bag, then you can get out of here. Do you need anything before I go?”

I shake my head and glance at Ethan. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you,” he responds, but his gaze remains fixed on me as if I might vanish into thin air if he looks away.

“Alrighty then,” the nurse says, scribbling something on her chart. “I’ll be back to unhook you in a bit.” She gives us a quick, warm smile and exits.

“Ethan,” I begin, reaching for his hand, “I really do appreciate you being here with me.”

He squeezes my hand, his thumb stroking the back of my knuckles. “I would do anything for you, Lily. You know that.”

And I do. I know he means it with every fiber of his being.

Ethan

The car idles at a red light, and I steal a glance at the amazing woman beside me. Her eyes are closed, her head resting against the window.

From this angle, she appears at peace, a mother worn out by the day’s demands. But I know better. Beneath that fragile peace, my Sunshine is suffering in ways I can neither truly comprehend nor erase; the pain is her constant companion. I wish I could take it all away. Just for a moment, to give her a single breath of relief. I wish I could carry it for her. I wish I could trade places with her.

The jarring blare of a horn yanks me back to the present. I lift a hand, a quick, almost apologetic flick in the rearview mirror to the impatient driver.

Fifteen minutes later, the house looms into view. I hit the garage opener, the door groaning its way up, then nudge the car inside and kill the engine. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I let out a steady breath.

I roll my head to the side, my gaze falling on Lily again. She is still asleep, slumped awkwardly, her head lolling against the window. I really don’t want to wake her, not when sleep offers a moment’s reprieve from what’s about to happen when she wakes up. But I have to get her inside.

Rounding the car, I reach for Lily’s side and pull open the door. I cup the back of her head, guiding it gently so it won’t bump the frame.