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“We’ve known we were going to marry you since we were just kids, baby. And your news hasn’t changed that fact. But we’re not going to propose like this. We’re going to beg you to let us ask you the most selfish thing we could possibly ask. We’re asking you to do the surgery.”
I open my mouth to object. But Quaid sinks down on a knee in front of me next, cutting off what I was about to say.
“Please, Princess. Please try,” he starts to cry. Beautiful tears fall down his anguished face. “If you don’t exist, I don’t exist. You’re my soulmate, and if you don’t try for me… You have to try.”
Carter falls to his knee next, and I’m resigned at this point. “I’m not going to ask you to do the surgery. I’m going totellyou to do the surgery. I’m going to tell you to do it because I have a whole life planned out for us. We have kids, three of them. One of them is a little girl that looks just like you. We have a house that we built together. And we’re happy. We’re so fucking happy. And there’s no bad days ever. You have to do this surgery because we deserve that plan. We deserve that life. Our story isn’t allowed to end like this. I won’t allow it.”
My poor boys. “Okay,” I whisper to them, unable to say no. Unable to completely destroy that dream that they have for us.
And despite my best attempts, something tries to take root in my soul.
It feels a little bit like hope.
Chapter 18
Now
_____________________________________
Valentina
Butterflies threaten to fly away with my insides as we walk out into the bright sunlight.
“It kind of feels like we’ve walked into the land of Oz,” I remark. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Logan and Quaid exchange looks, amused.
Although, they can’t really disagree with me. The colors here…they almost defy description. They’re almost too bright. The air here just seems cleaner, more blue, if that’s possible. The mountains and hills are an astonishing, vibrant green color.
At any moment, I expect Julie Andrews to come bursting over the peak of the hill in front of us, arms outstretched as she sings about the hills being alive and other shit.
It doesn’t fit my mood at all.
We’re scheduled to meet with the team of doctors that have been running trials of this surgery at the treatment center this afternoon. When I told Dr. Channing the news, he got on the first flight he could to meet us here. At least I will have a familiar face when I meet with everyone.
Fear slides across my skin, like it does every time I think about the surgery and what could happen. I still can’t believe that I agreed to this.
“We’ll be right here, every step of the way,” Logan whispers softly to me as he squeezes my hand.
I smile weakly at him.
The guys have been on cloud nine ever since that moment on the bridge, when they’d convinced me to say yes. They have so much hope for the future.
I’m trying not to have the same hope.
They don’t care about statistics or percentages. They somehow believe in giant miracles that defy all logic and reason.
They’ve forgotten about my dad dying long before his time and leaving me all alone. They weren’t there when I had to drop out of medical school. They didn’t experience the long days where I was poked and prodded with everything under the sun, only to find out that none of it worked after I’d tried with everything in me to get better.
I want to believe in their idea that this thing that connects the four of us is too big to be defeated by a little thing like a brain tumor.
But it’s hard.
Because in Valentina Rossi’s life, there aren’t miracles.
I’m not sure why that would change now.
The remarkable green of our surroundings continues to mock me all the way to the hospital. The building is a marvel of modern technology, far fancier than anything I’ve seen in the States. Everything is glass and smooth metal, and I’m almost afraid to touch anything because of how expensive everything feels.
Expensive is good, right? That means that people are happy enough with their treatment to give this place lots of money. That’s got to be a good sign.
