He struggled to continue, before clearing his throat and saying matter-of-factly,“It’s an active immunotherapy method that stimulates my own immune system to work harder. It gives it a new code…kind of like a computer update to seek out the cells that are bad and attack. I’ve read forums of people who had cancers reduce—positive responders, they’re called. There are some people called total responders, who, after treatment, show no sign of having cancer at all.”
He squished me close. “I’m hoping to be one of those.”
My voice caught in my throat. I had so many questions, but I was weak; sobbing silently into his chest, feeling his heart pound, hating it and its limited beats.
“I go again soon and want you to come with me. I’ll be re-tested…we’ll know then if there’s hope.”
There were so many things I wanted to know, but I couldn’t think of a single one. Only the worst thing. The thing I didn’t want an answer to, but suddenly was desperate to know.
Inhaling his smoky, wild smell, I asked around my tears. “How long?”
Ren groaned, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. “I don’t want you worrying, Della. I want you to focus on the fact that I’m going to outlive every prediction. You have my word I’ll—”
“And I’ll support you every step of the way. But…how long, Ren?” Looking up, I stared into his deep, sorrow-filled eyes.
And he stared back at the heartache in mine. “Twelve to twenty-four months.”
I gasped.
One to two years?
That was nothing!
That was torture.
That couldn’t be allowed.
“Finding it at stage one is rare, so I’m already ahead of the game. No one really knows how long I’ll have. I’m unusual, and that’s why I’ve been given access to this trial even though the drug has already been approved. I promise you I’ll have longer than two—”
“Stop.” I shook my head, my hair sticking to the sleeping bag and crackling with static electricity. Electricity that I’d feed into his blood if it meant it could eradicate every inch of whatever disease was inside him.
Three seconds ago, I’d been broken beyond repair, destroyed and drowning beneath the knowledge that I couldn’t handle this—I wouldn’t be able to watch Ren die and stay strong.
But now…now I had a timeline.
I had an enemy.
I had the name of the weapons we’d use to fight it.
Kissing him, I filled with resilience, tenacity, hope. “No.”
“No?” he whispered into my mouth.
“No.” I nuzzled close, already planning healthy food regimens, study, research, and second opinions. My mind no longer had time for tears. I had a lover to save and ensure he became one of those total responders because there was no other ending for us.
“Not so soon. I won’t let you leave me so soon.”
He grinned softly. “I’ll do everything in my power to obey.”
“You better, Ren Wild.” Grabbing his hand, I planted it on my stomach and, with a conviction that came from somewhere else, somewhere all-knowing and elemental, I vowed, “I’m pregnant with your child. And I refuse to raise him or her alone. You got me into this mess, and together, we’ll find a way for you to survive it.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
DELLA
* * * * * *
2032
THE SIGNS WERE obvious…now I knew where to look.
The hints that we’d been given too much happiness and now deserved a dose of despair.
I wish I could put your mind at rest.
I want to shout ‘surprise’ and announce a nasty, practical joke.
But it isn’t a joke…it never was.
Life had banished us into the struggle of fighting to stay together, and even if we’d seen the signs earlier, we wouldn’t have been able to change fate.
Just like it’d been fate that made us fall in love.
It was fate that would ultimately kill us.
We weren’t miracle workers or immune to normality. Our love didn’t make us safe from adversity…if anything, it made us more susceptible to catastrophe.
Our hearts were linked.
If one went, so would the other.
If one hurt, both felt it.
A ripple effect that wouldn’t just end when Ren died but would continue to haunt me until the day I died, too.
As we lay together after Ren told me, I swung between bravery and cowardice.
I wanted to head to the doctor’s straight away and demand every treatment, drug, and trial. I wanted to assure him that I would be strong, and he could lean on me—that he wouldn’t face a single piece of this alone.
But I also wanted to stay in that forest and never leave. I wanted to hand my hope to the wind and beg it to rewind time to when Ren was eight and he was never sold to my parents.
I was willing to give up an entire lifetime with him—to prevent us ever meeting, to stop true love from forming, to end all of it—if it meant he would never have been exposed to asbestos.