Page 66 of I’m Already Gone

White Christmas lights are draped over the private fence and the palm trees. A long table in the center of the yard is decorated with a white cloth and three clusters of purple, pink, and white balloons, secured with paperweights. Behind the main table is another table featuring a sterling silver chafing buffet. Next to it, a table is adorned with a balloon arch and a banner that reads “Happy Birthday Lily.” There is a three-tier cake, accompanied by presents. To the right of the yard, there is a white screen along with a few colorful beanbag chairs and speakers positioned beside it.

I glance at my children and ask with a grin, “Movie night?”

“It’s better than a movie,” Jake says, and I can’t help but admire my teenage son, who has transformed from a boy into a striking young man.

“So handsome,” I say, playfully tugging at his white tie.

He scoffs jokingly. “I’m only wearing this for you, Mom. Don’t get used to it.”

His light purple dress shirt and crisp white slacks make him look dapper, his hair styled as if he were headed to a wedding. My gaze lingers on him, a deep sadness settling inside my soul. This moment. What if this might be the only time I will see him dressed up? What if there are no prom night photos to frame, no triumphant graduation for me to witness, or joyful tears to shed at his wedding? The thought that cancer might steal the precious moments I long to share with my children is too much to bear.

“Well, I appreciate it,” I manage despite my emotions.

He gives me a boyish grin and places a kiss on my cheek. “Happy Birthday, Mom.”

I cup his cheek. “Thank you.”

“How about we eat before the food gets cold?” Dad suggests.

“Great idea,” Mom adds.

“Mom, I want to sit by you,” Ollie says, swinging my hand in his.

I lean down and pull him into another hug, and press multiple kisses on his face, making his giggle erupt. I love hearing them so much. A sound that both mends and shatters my heart. How many more times will I get to feel this?

“Save me a seat.” I pat his bottom, and he nods, then runs toward the table.

Rising to my feet, my eyes clash with Ethan’s.

“Happy birthday, Sunshine.”

I smile, trying to keep my chin from wobbling.

He hands me a stunning bouquet of roses and lilies, their colors perfectly coordinated, as if each one was chosen with care.

“Oh, they’re gorgeous.” I blush. “Thank you, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome.”

I want to ask him so many questions, to tell him everything, but I don’t get a chance when Ethan holds his hand out. “Ready, Sunshine?”

Ethan

Her beauty takes my breath away.

For a moment, I thought I had gone to heaven. Cliché as that may sound, the color of her dress, the way her hair is styled, and her smile brought me back to the moment I first fell in love with her. And not just her, but being around her. The need and want to be with her all the time are consuming me. And now I’m staring at her like a creepy stalker as she takes a small bite of her cake.

“You’ve been staring at her like that all night,” Richard, Lily’s father, says, pulling my eyes away from her.

“Sorry. I can’t help it,” I say unashamedly.

He lets out a deep baritone chuckle, a comforting sound I’ve heard for decades. “You’ve had that exact same look in your eyes when you look at my daughter since you were sixteen years old, Ethan. Good to see some things haven’t faded with time.” His words, while light, carry the weight of sadness.

There’s a tightness in my chest, a prickle of unease I can’t shake. “Richard, Lily seems to be sicker than normal. Is there something going on with her?” I ask.

He takes a slow, deliberate sip of his bourbon. His gaze, however, never leaves Lily, and he watches her with an almost painful tenderness. “My Lily is doing the best that she can given all that is being shoved into her life, Ethan. She’s strong, and it’s just another battle she has to get through,” he says.

“What does that mean?” I ask, frustrated.