“I’ll tell you.” He glanced over his shoulder to assure himself Steven hadn’t returned. “But only if you promise never to share this with anyone. Steven doesn’t want people to know.”
Her eyes went wide. “Did you meet in prison?”
“What?”
“I won’t tell anyone, no matter what. I just figured it must be something terribly embarrassing like prison. But I promise, I would never judge you on your past—”
He put a silencing finger on her lips, a chuckle escaping his own. “I can’t tell you how tempting it is to let you believe Steven and I met in prison, but that’s not what happened.”
“Oh! Thank goodness!” She blew air from her loose lips and began to wipe down the kitchen counters.
Gary took a deep breath. The last time he’d confessed the truth was two years ago. He’d thought Deanne was different from the other women he’d dated. She seemed to have the same get-everything-out-of-life-as-soon-as-possible attitude that he did. Her shock, and ultimately her rejection, had broken his heart.
“Steven gave me his bone marrow,” he said. “That’s the only reason I’m alive right now.”
Katie froze, her mouth dropping open, just as he expected. “Cancer?”
He nodded. “Leukemia. Steven was sponsoring a donor program, so he signed up to be screened. We were a random match.”
The sponge was abandoned on the counter as Katie stumbled out of the kitchen and sunk into a chair at the table. Gary followed behind her, concerned at her strong reaction.
“Katie? Are you okay?”
She covered her face with her hands, obviously distraught.
I shouldn’t have told her.
“That was five years ago, and I’m doing great.” He sat down beside her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Steven gave me more than his bone marrow.” Gary struggled to swallow around something that felt stuck in his throat. “He taught me to look past the present and see the future. We started making plans for all the things we were going to do together when I got my strength back… my bucket list.”
She dropped her hands, revealing her watery eyes. “Are you… Do you know how long you have to live?”
He laid his hand on top of hers, where it trembled on the table. “I’m not expecting to die any time soon. Statistically, I’ve got a good chance of living another fifteen years. It’s possible I might live a long time. But none of us are promised tomorrow, right?”
“This is the real reason you have that bucket list?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yes. I’m sorry to throw that at you,” he said, entwining their fingers. “Honestly, I don’t know why I told you.”
“No, I’m glad you did.” She tilted her head down to stare at their joined hands. “My sister had leukemia.”
His heart squeezed into a tight ball. No wonder his story had upset her. “Cripes! I didn’t realize she died of cancer. I’m so sorry I brought it up.”
“Kindra didn’t die of cancer. She had a bone marrow transplant eighteen months before.” Katie lifted her gaze, her eyes focusing out the window into the darkness. “Mine.”
Gary wrapped his other hand around hers, wishing he could take away her pain. “That was brave of you to donate your bone marrow.”
“I wasn’t brave at all. I was six years old, and I was scared to death.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Even after the procedure, I was selfish. I complained about the pain, but Kindra was hurting a lot worse than I was.”
“Katie, you were only six. You were a child!”
“She was eight when she got the bone marrow transplant, but I never saw her cry. Eighteen months later, she fell through the ice. She went through all that treatment and died in a stupid accident.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Gary was at a loss for how to comfort her. “That was a terrible tragedy, but at least you bought her that extra time. You did all you could, even as a child. It’s not your fault she died.”
“It is my fault,” she rasped. “We were skating together when the ice broke. I ran to get my parents, but it was too late. I should’ve stayed and helped her.”
“No, Katie, no.” He reached to brush a tear from her cheek. “You were—what—seven when that happened? You couldn’t have helped your sister. You would’ve fallen though the ice with her.”