Page 89 of I’m Already Gone

Our bodies sway, the music wrapping around us, shielding us from the harsh realities waiting just beyond this moment.

“Thank you, Ethan,” Lily whispers, “for what you did today.”

I glance down at her, a smile easing the tightness in my chest. She caresses my stubbled head with affection.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she says.

“Don’t you know by now, Lily?” I ask, my gaze holding hers. “I would do anything for you.”

A soft sigh escapes her as her hand, warm and tender, glides down my cheek. “I know it wasn’t easy to do,” she adds, her eyes searching mine.

My smile falters.

No, it wasn’t easy.

The weight of the clippers in my hand felt like I was being trampled by a stampede of bulls crushing me into the ground. What if the treatments don’t work? Does that mean more treatments? Or will that be the end of her life, the end of us? The mere thought of a life without Lily, a world without her laughter, her presence, is a suffocating, unbearable darkness. I wouldn’t be able to survive it.

She rests her head on my chest, a perfect fit, as we continue to sway to the music, lost in our own world. I press my lips to her bare head, and she lets out a soft, contented sound.

I want to tell her how much I love her, how every beat of my heart belongs to her, how the thought of losing her scares the hell out of me. But I don’t think she’s ready to hear those words, not yet. Not when the future is so uncertain. For now, I’ll hold her. I’ll be her anchor and her shield. I’ll give her whatever she needs to help her get through this.

Ethan

Lily lets out a frustrated huff as she wrestles with the patio door. It seems stuck, refusing to budge despite her determined tugs.

“Need a hand there, Lily?” I ask, a slight smile playing on my lips.

She glances over her shoulder, her brow furrowed in an adorable scowl. “I can’t get this thing open. Did you do something to it?”

“Me? Why would you think I’d mess with your door?”

She turns fully, her hands settling on her hips. The soft lavender sweater, a size or two too big now, slips further down her shoulder, revealing the sharp line of her collarbone. “Given that it was working perfectly fine before you arrived,” she retorts, her gaze unwavering.

My smirk deepens, and I take a step closer. “Shall I remind you that you were getting chemo treatment before I arrived?”

I reach out, my fingers brushing the loose fabric of her sweater, and pause when a shiver ripples through her.

My smirk softens, turning tender as I take the material and put it back into place, covering her skin. She watches my every movement, her throat working as she swallows hard. A faint, tell-tale flush blooms high on her cheeks.

“Could it be that maybe you’re a little weaker because of the treatment?”

A moment of silence stretches between us.

“Yes,” she says, clearing her throat, her gaze fixed on my hand for a moment before darting away. “I suppose that’s possible.”

God, she is still so damn sexy when she’s shy. Good to know I haven’t completely lost my touch.

Keeping my eyes on hers, I reach over her head, my fingers easily finding the latch she was struggling with. With a soft click and a push, the door slides open smoothly. I never stray from her silver eyes, eyes that, to this day, still take my breath away.

“Oh,” she murmurs. “Thank you.” She slips through the doorway, heading out onto the patio.

I chuckle, following her. “I don’t get an apology?” I cross my arms over my chest.

“For what?” She glances at my arms, then quickly averts her gaze toward a patch of blooming roses in her garden.

I shake my head, my smirk still in place. “For accusing me of sabotaging your door.”

“I wasn’t really accusing you,” she says. “I was asking a question, Ethan.”