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“That I’m going to die on you! That you won’t get to grow old with me and watch our kids and grandbabies grow up. That I’ll break your heart because I’m not strong enough.”
“I’m not following.”
“You want kids, and you should have them. You’ll be a great dad, but I don’t want kids.”
“This is what this is all about? Kids?”
She pressed her lips together into a thin line. “It’s always been about that.”
“Kids?”
“Yes, kids, and the fact that you want them.”
“Can you not have kids?”
“Technically, no that’s not it, but—”
“Because I don’t care. We can adopt.”
He moved toward me, but I blocked him with my hand. He didn’t understand. “I don’t want to bring a child into this world and die on them. My mom died at forty-six. I was lucky she had me young. But me? I’m not young. I’m six years away from the age my mom died.”
“This is what this is about? You think you’re going to die?”
“I could. Breast cancer can be genetic.”
“Did you ever get the test done? See if you have the gene? Not that it fucking matters. I will be there for you through sickness and in health, because that’s what you do when you love someone. You hold their hand and navigate the good, the bad and the really fucking ugly.”
I shook my head. He was saying all the right things, but I watched my dad leave after Mom was first diagnosed. He couldn’t handle it. She went in remission after, but it came back.
“I’ll go with you to get the test.”
“I already had it done. They said I don’t have it, but tests can be wrong.”
“I don’t think that’s a test that can be wrong.” His tone sounded like my doctor, who told me I didn’t need to be tested again despite my insistence.
“How do you know? How does anyone actually know? Cancer isn’t some well-behaved disease. It spreads and wreaks havoc. My mom found it early. She thought she was in remission, and it came back more aggressive than before.”
“You’re not your mother,” he said so matter-of-factly I wanted to believe him.
“No, but I’m my mother’s daughter. I carry her DNA, even if I don’t have the gene, it doesn’t mean I can’t still get the disease.”
“You do realize there are other ways to die. That life isn’t guaranteed. You can walk out that door, go back to the resort and get hit by someone racing through the parking lot. One of those ridiculous chandeliers in the resort can fall from the ceiling and take you out.”
“Even more reason not to have kids. If you can’t guarantee you’ll be there for them every step of the way, then why bother?”
“Why bother?” He thrust his hands through his hair, and I wondered if he did it so he didn’t grab me by the shoulders and shake me. “You’re doing it again, you know?”
“Doing what?”
“You’re letting fear guide you. Instead of throwing caution to the wind and letting things happen, you’re giving fear the control and taking that control away from your heart.Yourheart. The thing that knows exactly what it wants.”
“It’s better that way. My heart is tainted. I can only think about the ugly side of things. I want to pretend that life is all rainbows and sunshine, but it’s not. It’s mostly cloudy days with the occasional burst of light that never lasts long.”
He moved toward me, cupping my face in his hands. “I like cloudy days. There’s no rain stopping you from being outside. The sun is covered in fluffy drapes, keeping it from getting too hot. The sun isn’t blinding you and highlighting only the things that stand the brightest. The clouds allow for you to see everything, the bigger picture. It lets your eyes choose where to look and what to see. I’ll take a cloudy day with you any time.”
I brushed my thumb at the corner of his eye. He was so hopeful, so full of life and love, and he deserved someone who could find their way out of the clouds and into the sunlight. He deserved all the light. “I wish I could see things the way you do, but I can’t. Even if I can get out of the rain, I’ll just hide behind the sun’s rays.”
“You need to stop hiding. It’s the fear. It’s not you.”
