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EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
EVAN
Excitement is buzzing through me, and I haven’t even opened my eyes yet. I always feel like this on Christmas morning, and it doesn’t matter how old I am. In fact, I think last year and right now I’m more excited than I have been on any other Christmas morning. I know why too.
I reach out for the warm body of the woman I am desperately in love with but am met with nothing. My eyes pop open and I sit up in bed. I’m not always a morning person but waking up without Raegan next to me feels like I’ve had two shots of espresso.
She should be here with me so I can give her the first present of the day. Well, I guess since we were technically going at it a good portion of last night, I already gave her a present on Christmas, but she knows how much I love waking up with her.
I freeze when I hear a noise coming from the bathroom which makes my heart pound in my chest. I’m up and out of bed so fast that I almost trip over the way I’m tangled in the sheets. Fucking hell. I twist and spin and then I’m in the bathroom and dropping down to my knees next to my Snowflake.
My hands deftly pull her hair back. This is not the way I thought I’d be waking up on Christmas morning, but, then again, I don’t think she’s enjoying it any more than I am.
I hold her hair as my heart aches at how sick Raegan is. I sooth my other hand up and down her back, wishing I could do more.
This isn’t the first morning I’ve found her like this and it’s starting to scare the shit out of me. She insists she’s fine and just caught a bug, but I’m starting to think it’s more than that. Way more.
Fear grips my heart. I can’t lose her. I would become a shell of a man without her. I won’t know who I am. She’s my everything and has been since the moment I met her.
I know it took me a while to get up the courage I needed to make my play, but I think we both needed that time. To get to know each other and for her to feel comfortable with me. It’s why she wasn’t, ultimately, scared to move so fast with me a year ago.
I keep my voice soft when it seems like she’s done, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she croaks and takes a few deep breaths even though she grimaces with each one of them.
I get it. No one likes getting sick and it seems to always stick around in the worst way. I reach up and flush the toilet as I help her stand and then get over to the vanity. I can’t help but watch her, my concern growing, as she rinses her mouth out, brushes her teeth, and then uses mouth wash.
“I think you need to see a doctor,” my voice is firm. I can’t let this continue.
I’ve asked her about a doctor many times, but she’s brushed me off and this has been going on for a few weeks now. I don’t like it. I can’t do anything to help and it’s making me feel out of control.
Raegan looks at me and the way her brown eyes are filled with amusement makes me frown. “This isn’t funny, Raegan,” my voice breaks with the effort of holding in all my emotions, my worry.
She shakes her head slowly as a soft smile graces her lips. “It’s not funny, Evan. I don’t think throwing up is funny.”
“Then why do you look so amused?”
“What I think is funny is that you haven’t figured it out yet.” She cocks her hip to the side and watches me as I try and make sense of what she’s saying. “I’ve already seen a doctor,” she admits softly.
My brain stops completely, and panic takes over. “You did? What did they say? Are you going to be okay? When did you see them? I could have gone with you. You know I would have gone with you.” My voice is thick with emotion, “Please, put me out of my misery here. I’m freaking out.”
My Snowflake reaches for me and smooths her hands over my shoulders. Normally it would relax me, but right now I’m too in my head for it to do much good. What if I lose her? Holy shit, what if I lose her?
I’ll never be the same.
Is it normal to be breathing this fast?
“Evan,” Raegan’s voice is sharp, and it cuts through some of the panic; not enough, but some. “You need to calm down. I’m perfectly healthy.”
“Perfectly healthy?” My voice should not be so high. I take a deep breath and point to the toilet, accusation in my tone, “That is not perfectly healthy.”
“It should pass soon, and it is normal,” her voice is calm, too fucking calm.
I narrow my eyes at her. She has got to be joking. It’ll pass soon? It’s normal?
I look her over again as I try and piece together what she’s saying. She’s been throwing up, but it will pass and it’s normal. It’s been going on for a few weeks now. When the hell is ‘soon’? She’s been a little more emotional lately. Hell, she even cried in front of one of the Fifth Avenue windows when we walked by them a few days ago. She’s embraced Christmas fully.
