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“I don’t know how long he has, Rose. I’m afraid I won’t be back, you know...until after it happens.”

“Oh, no, Grant, I miss you, but I understand. Look, I have some time off starting tomorrow. Can I come to you?”

“You’d do that?” His voice was shaky and I could tell he was at his whit’s end.

“Yes, of course. You are my future husband, right?” I teased.

“I sure am, baby. I need you so much.”

“I’ll leave tonight. Text me the address, okay?”

“I will. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too.”

I loved him. I knew it. I had known it since our first date. It wasn’t something that crept up on me. I knew and the logical side of me fought it with everything I had until the romantic swooped in a pushed me over the cliff I had been teetering on. Grant never pushed me as hard after our day at the pond. He really never had to. It had been the most romantic month of my life. I accepted all he gave me with open arms. Loving him back was the easiest thing I’d ever done. Hearing Rebecca’s words confirmed everything I thought about Grant after that day at the pond. This wasn’t typical of him, not at all. I saw it in our time together after that fateful day. He had a good head on his shoulders, he often thought before he spoke, and was always the doting boyfriend. He worked hard and appeared smart with his money. He bought his land in his late teens and had just paid it off last month. He kept his promise to not interrupt my schoolwork seriously, often sitting on the couch with my feet on his lap while I had my face buried in books for hours in work. He never asked me for what I couldn’t give and did his best to take care of me. I would see the look wash over him when he kissed me or touched me and I knew this was what love could really do. I believed that Grant was a realist, because I was too until we fell in love so quickly it shook our belief systems to the core. We spent a lot of our free days at his land walking and talking about the future, and getting naked underneath our tree, dreaming of the home he wanted to build. I would even entertain his idea that I would be a part of it all because I desperately wanted to be. For the first time in my life, I was letting the romantic reign and it felt incredible. I was lost in love and I didn’t give a damn how hard I’d fallen back into reality the last time. My ex, David, had broken a piece of my heart but had never touched my soul. Grant moved me in a way that he had taken complete care of both. My heart was heavy with love; my soul was filled with contentment.

Sudden, maybe, but in my mind, the words were repetitive: Just in time. Just in time.

Rose

As I began the drive, I was excited to see the other parts of Grant’s life, yet was saddened I was about to meet his father for the first and last time. He had been resisting his pain meds recently and for Grant it was agonizing. He would often scream out as Grant and I spoke on the phone. He had gotten a second wind in the last few days and was talking normally, which excited Grant, but I felt the dread in me as his excitement on the phone crossed the line. A second wind was often a sign that the end was near. I had spent hours and hours on the phone in the last month with the specialists, only to realize it was the worst-case scenario, and there was nothing that could be done.

I drove through the night, thinking about the last time I saw Grant. He’d patiently waited all day as I performed a carefully constructed surgery on an orange on my kitchen counter.

I kept my headphones on as I cut into and stitched orange after orange, perfecting my technique. Vintage rap mix blaring, I got lost in my task, which apparently had lasted a lot longer than I thought. I could feel the soreness of being on my feet start to creep in but resisted. I needed to build my stamina. I was working on my last orange when my headphones were plucked out of my ears. I looked up to see Grant with the cord in his hand, “All I Need” by Method Man resounding through the kitchen.

I gave Grant a smile. “Yes, dear?”

“I’ve been here for nine hours.”

“Shit, really?”

“Yes, and I’m not mad. My dick is furious, but I’m not mad.”

I laughed as I began to sway my hips to the music. “Good to know, and I’m so sorry,” I said, snapping off my gloves. “I didn’t mean to take that long.”

“I told you I would be cool about it and I will,” he said, leaning in to give me a slow kiss. “But I’m starving and feeling slightly neglected and...I kind of like this song.”

I looked at him curiously as he pulled me to him and cradled my body and began to move. But not the way I expected him to. He was slow dancing with me to rap music.

“Grant, you do know this song is more upbeat, right?”

He ignored me as he moved his feet back and forth, dancing with me slowly until the song ended.

I took the exit for the highway that would lead me to him with only one thought on my mind: He’s perfect. Perfect.

I arrived early morning to a completely destroyed version of the man I’d been envisioning all night. I hadn’t realized the toll his father’s impending death had taken on him. He greeted me at my truck door and wrapped his arms around me. I knew then it was one of the best decisions I’d ever made to go to him. He hadn’t asked, but I felt his need for me.

“Grant, it’s time you let someone help you with this. It’s too much to shoulder alone.” He pulled away and I could see the deep circles underneath his eyes.

“The hospice nurse helps, I’m...I’m just...I don’t know what I am, but I can’t tell you how much this means to me. It means everything to me that you’re here.”

“I’m so sorry. I called everyone I knew. No one could draw a different conclusion,” I said, feeling as if I had failed him.

“I know you did everything you could.” He kissed my lips tenderly, and as an afterthought a

dded, “Do you think I expected you to save him?”

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