The Girl and Her Ren (The Ribbon Duet 2)

Wild forever and always. I love you.

She shook her head, another emotional chuckle falling free. “I-I can’t believe this.”

I brushed aside a curl, imprinting the feel of her soft cheek. “What can’t you believe?”

“That once again, we shared the same idea.” Opening her palm, she revealed a glossy gold band with the same promise from my dinged-up leather bangle stamped inside.

DW RW4EVA

I wanted to curse.

To swear.

Profanity seemed the only cure to release the overwhelming pressure and love inside me, but with God watching us become man and wife, I just drew her close and kissed her deep, all while John chuckled, and Cassie swooned, and the reverend cleared his throat with reprimand.

“You’re supposed to wait until after you’ve said the words ‘I do.’”

With Della’s lips on mine, we smiled and laughed, teeth clacking as we both murmured, “I do.”

“I do.”

My fingers fumbled on hers, switching her chipped sapphire to her other hand and sliding the diamond over her wedding finger. Once I’d trapped her with vows and jewellery, she trapped me.

I never thought a piece of precious metal could transfix me, but as that ring settled cold then turned warm, I no longer felt alone.

I felt an overpowering sensation of home and heart and hearth.

“You may kiss the bride.” The reverend clasped his hands and stepped back.

There would be many things I remembered on my death bed.

So many wonderful things.

But that kiss?

That first kiss where Della was my wife would always be the brightest.

That kiss was our beginning, middle, and end.

That kiss bound us past life and death, sickness and health.

That kiss was life itself, never ending, forever existing, two souls entwined…

…for eternity.

* * * * *

“Are you sitting down?”

My fingers tightened around my phone, my eyes tracking Della as she packed a few clothes for us to return to the forest for a small honeymoon.

Only a couple of days, just enough to consummate—more than once—and to forget our future. If we could.

“No. Should I be?” My voice was gruff, belying the injection of panic.

Rick Mackenzie, my oncologist with his Scottish calmness, said, “Let’s get the important stuff out of the way, shall we? Let’s start with Della Mclary.”

“Della Wild now. As of a few hours ago.”

Della threw me a kiss, folding a t-shirt neatly.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” My knees wobbled, depositing me onto the pushed together single beds of our youth. “Is she okay?” My eyes never left Della’s as she plopped the t-shirt into the small pile we were taking with us and came toward me.

Slotting herself into the V of my spread legs, her fingers curled in my hair, and I held her waist to my nose.

I inhaled hard, smothering a cough as Rick said, “She’s fine. No signs of any asbestos related diseases.”

A cry that could only be described as tormented thanks fell from my lips, soaking into her belly button. “Oh, thank God.”

Della hugged my head, trembling. “I love you, Ren.”

Her whisper scattered around me as Rick continued, “As for you…I really should ask you to come into my office so we can go through any questions you might have, but…well, I can’t wait. I wanted to tell you straight away.”

Blackness slithered its way through me, blotting out my hope, tearing up the calendar pages of my heart, deleting the months I thought I had. His urgency created pure terror. “What is it?”

You have one month to live.

Kiss your wife goodbye.

Hope you have your casket sorted.

I planted a hand over my eyes, begging the depression to stop.

Rick’s voice cut through the medley. “You’re a positive responder, Ren.”

For a second, I had no idea what that was.

All my research and knowledge, gone.

Poof.

Then the words deconstructed and reassembled into a sentence I could understand. You’re not dying…yet.

The phone slipped through my hand. It bounced on the carpet like an undetonated bomb.

Was it real?

Was it true?

Not only had I gotten one dream by marrying Della today, I’d earned an extension from leaving her too?

“Ren?” Della’s worried voice cut through the buzzing in my head. “You okay?” Ducking, she collected the phone and held it to my ear. “He’s still talking.”

I cupped her hand with mine, ignoring the phone.

My lungs blazed with pain, but I didn’t trust that pain anymore. It was trying to make me believe in a lie.

I’m not dying…yet.

Gripping her hard, I breathed fast. “It’s-it’s good news. Fuck, it’s excellent news.”

For all my positive thinking, I hadn’t dared hope for this.

It would fucking break me if it turned out to be bad.

She nodded frantically, tears sparkling. “Thank God.” Urging me to take the phone, she said, “Find out more. Talk to him.”

Licking my lips, I obeyed, still shell-shocked and disbelieving but ready to listen. “Sorry. Minor accident. Wh-what did you say?”

“What happened? You drop the phone?” Rick chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first. But…be happy. You didn’t mis-hear. I said you’re showing signs of improvement. As you know, mesothelioma is aggressive, and the tumours are small and dispersed throughout your lungs and abdomen. However, the treatment has halted any from multiplying. In some areas, they’ve even decreased.”