Page 117 of I’m Already Gone

Shoving off the counter, I step closer until I am standing close behind her, invading her space. I can feel her breath stutter as she slows down the rhythm of her kneading.

Good to know I am not the only one affected.

My hands rest on each side of her, and I settle my chin on her shoulder. “What do you need me to do?”

She clears her throat, trying to regain composure. “You can start by mixing those ingredients behind you into a big bowl.”

“Are you sure?” I purr against her skin, and she responds with a playful elbow to my stomach.

I let out a grunt, half-chuckling. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Just then, the song changes to “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis Presley, instantly taking me back to our last happy memory.

Instead of following her instructions, my arms slide around her waist, and I pull her to me, guiding her into a slow sway.

“What are you doing?” she says with a giggle.

“I can’t stand being away from you,” I admit.

“Aw,” she replies, swaying along with me. She places her flour-covered hands onto mine.

“Plus, I’m recreating that day,” I add.

Tears glisten in her eyes. “Ethan.”

“Hey,” I whisper, my thumb brushing against her cheek. “No tears.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Falling in love with me?” I tease, cupping one side of her face.

Her eyes flutter shut as she hums along with the melody. With a mischievous grin, I reach over, coating my hands in flour, then frame her face with my now white palms.

“Ethan!” she squeals, her laughter ringing out as she retaliates, dousing me in flour, and soon we are both laughing uncontrollably, completely covered in white powder.

She tries to dash around the island, but I am faster, catching her around the waist and pulling her close. Our foreheads press together, and we get lost in each other’s gaze, the music enveloping us in a dreamlike state.

Her hands return to my face, and I mimic her loving gesture. “I love you, Ethan,” she whispers, sincerity shining in her eyes.

I close mine, a smile blooming as I respond, “And I can’t help but love you, Lily.”

We seal our moment with a kiss, flour-coated hands still cradling our faces.

Nothing can shatter our magic bubble.

I won’t allow it.

Part Three

Ethan

My palms are slick, and I can feel the frantic beat of my pulse drumming against my ribs. Waiting for Lily to be called in to hear the chest CT scan results after her last chemo treatment, this waiting room feels too quiet.

God, I’ve been a wreck all week. The anticipation of this day has been a dark cloud hanging over everything, a relentless countdown. My stomach is doing flip-flops, and a cold dread creeps up my spine. I keep clenching and unclenching my jaw, trying to release some of the tension, but it is no use.

I steal a glance at Lily. She is staring at her phone, probably scrolling through her Pinterest account. When things get tough, when emotions threaten to overwhelm her, she buries herself in tasks. It is her way of coping, or rather, not coping.

It has been affecting her, this endless waiting, this uncertainty. She even started going back to the bakery, working up to four hours a day. I wasn’t thrilled about it, not by a long shot. Every fiber of my being screamed for her to slow down, to rest. But she was adamant. Said it made her feel normal, productive. And what could I do? As long as she wasn’t there all day, pushing herself too hard, I had to compromise. Had to pick my battles. And right now, the biggest battle is just getting through the next few minutes.