“At first, the doctor’s recommendation was to keep an eye on it. It was small at the time. He told me if it grows, we’ll go from there.”
“And has it?”
“Yes. When I started experiencing all the symptoms I was told to watch out for, I made an appointment. Dr. Phillips ran new scans and confirmed it. I need to have surgery.”
Ethan releases a harsh breath. “Okay, so that means it’s curable, right? They’ll go in and remove it. When?”
“I haven’t scheduled it.”
“Why?” he asks slowly.
“I haven’t even lived,” I cry. “There’s a chance I could die during the surgery. A chance they won’t be able to get it all. A chance I’ll need chemotherapy, radiation… It feels like I’m finally beginning to find myself. I’m finally starting to live, and it’s all going to be taken away. What if through it all, I lose myself again?”
“But if you don’t get the surgery, you’ll die,” he growls.
“I know but… I haven’t lived enough, yet, Ethan. I’m only twenty-four years old. I haven’t gotten married or had kids. I haven’t even skinny-dipped! I have so much I want to do. What if I die before I can do any of it?” Sobs rack my body, and Ethan pulls me into him for a hug.
“Your list,” he whispers. “It’s not just a bucket list. It’s literally the list of things you want to do before you die.”
I nod into his neck, sniffling back my cries. “I made it when I thought I would have more time, but then the tumor grew so fast and now I’m not going to have enough time to do everything on my list.”
“When did the doctor say you need to schedule the surgery?” he asks quietly.
“As soon as possible.”
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath.
Framing my face in his hands, he looks me in the eyes. “Marry me, Nevaeh.”
“Didn’t you hear everything I said?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. We’ll get through this together,” he vows. “We’ll go to Vegas and find a chapel and get married. I’ll rent us a room and spend the next forty-eight hours making love to you. And then, when we get back, we’ll go to your doctor together and schedule that damn surgery, so they can get that fucking tumor out of your head and everything will be fine.”
I can’t help but smile at everything he’s saying. Ethan is a take charge kind of guy. It’s why his businesses are so successful. When he sees a problem, he focuses on how to fix it.
“What about my list?”
“What about it?” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You can finish the list after your head is fixed. Hell, after it’s fixed, I’ll help you make another list. We can spend the rest of our fucking lives checking off items on your lists.”
I snort-sob and he smiles softly. “Seriously, Nevaeh. I get it. You’re afraid you’ll die before you do all those items on your list, but if you don’t have the surgery you won’t be alive to do all the items that aren’t on the list. I need you, baby. Please.”
“Okay.” I nod, my vision blurry from my tears, and my heart full from his words. “I’ll marry you.”
After booking our flight, and Ethan explaining to his mom—without telling her about my tumor—why he wants it to be just the two of us, promising she can help me plan a wedding and reception later—we pack our luggage and take off to the airport with Rosco driving us in his SUV. It’s a two-hour drive to the airport in Newark, and once we arrive we’re boarded almost immediately. A five-hour flight and a cab ride later and we’re standing in the most charming little chapel on the Strip, saying our ‘I dos’ in front of the most adorable man and his wife.
When he tells Ethan to place the ring on my finger, I’m about to explain we don’t have any, but before I can, Ethan plucks a gorgeous diamond ring from his pocket and slides it onto my finger.
“When my mom left my dad, she left this ring. He didn’t want it, so I took it and put it away. I think a part of me always hoped one day she would return and I would be able to give it back to her. It also felt like she left a piece of her with me.” He smiles sadly.
“When she returned, I tried to give it back…” When I give him a confused look, he says, “Sometimes when I get home, before I come up to bed, we hang out downstairs and talk.” He shrugs sheepishly, and I smile, happy he’s giving his mom a real chance. “She raised her left hand, showing off the new ring my dad bought her while they were in the Dominican Republic. She told me to hold onto it, and that she would love it if I would give it to the woman I want to marry. The ring was bought for her by my dad before he started making any money. He busted his ass, working two jobs, to save up the money so he could buy her a ring that conveyed how much he loved her.”