“I love it,” Nevaeh squeals.
“Looks great,” I add.
Nevaeh goes first, getting it inked on the inside of her wrist, and when it’s my turn, I get it right over my heart. She steals my phone because it has the better camera and takes pictures of both our tattoos, telling me she wants to always remember today. I can’t help feeling like her words have a deeper meaning, but I push it aside.
When we’re done, I pay the artist and then open the door for Nevaeh, so we can head back onto the Strip. I’m not paying attention, focusing on my phone—my bar manager is asking about a liquor order she needs to place—so when Nevaeh stops in her tracks, I run into the back of her. She stumbles forward, and I hook my arm around her waist so she doesn’t fall.
“Ethan,” she breathes, taking another step forward, off the sidewalk and onto the bicycle lane of the road. It’s raining heavily, and without an umbrella she’s getting soaked. But it doesn’t seem to bother her. Turning to face me, her head tilts toward the open sky, her eyes close, and the most beautiful smile appears.
And that’s when it hits me: her list. To dance in the rain. To be kissed in the rain.
In the short distance, a street performer is playing the saxophone. I reach out and take Nevaeh’s hand, and she turns her attention to me. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I bring her close to me. She glances up, confused at first, but when I start to sway us to the music, her face lights up in realization.
With the music in the background and the rain coming down on us, we dance in the street, with Nevaeh in my arms and her head against my chest. Life on Earth could be ending, the entire world imploding, but in this moment, with my wife in my arms, it feels as if it’s only the two of us.
When the song comes to an end, I pull back slightly. “Thank you for the dance,” I tell her, pushing her drenched hair off her face, before I frame her cheeks with my palms and cover her mouth with mine. With our tongues swirling around each other, we kiss until Nevaeh shivers against me.
“Let’s get out of here, baby,” I murmur against her lips. “Go back to the hotel and get warmed up.”
Once we’re back to our room and showered, I notice she’s not as animated as she was earlier. A few times, she squints her eyes, telling me she’s fighting a headache. She doesn’t want me to know, though—doesn’t want to sour the day—so I let it go.
While we eat our dinner, she pulls out her list from her luggage and smiles softly as she crosses out all the items we’ve done. “I only have a few left.”
“Like what?”
She looks over her list. “Go skydiving, visit another country for fun, tell my mom how I really feel, make a difference in someone’s life, go in a hot air balloon, go skinny-dipping…”
“That’s it?” I ask when her voice trails off, knowing there’s at least one more.
“Um…” She glances at me with a slight frown marring her features. “Become a mom.” She shrugs, like it’s not a big deal.
“You will become a mom,” I tell her. “In some way, shape, or form, you will.”
She nods, but it’s more to appease me.
“I’m tired,” she says in a resigned tone. Then, she folds up her list and places it on the nightstand. She moves everything off the bed and snuggles into my side, and within minutes her eyes close and her breathing evens out. Since I’m used to staying awake a lot later, but I don’t want to move from her side, I grab my phone and Google Meningioma tumor, where I spend the next several hours learning everything I can about the tumor that is trying to fuck with my wife.
I wake up to Nevaeh trailing open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder and chest. The woman loves to explore my body while I’m asleep and I’m not going to complain. Waking up to her lips on me is without a doubt the best way to wake up. As a matter of fact, if I have it my way, I plan to wake up like this every day for the rest of my life—which is why I reached out to a couple doctors last night. When you’re in the business my dad is in, you get to know a variety of people. You would be shocked at how many doctors and lawyers and men in power dabble in illegal extracurriculars. Using my connections, I’ve put out feelers to get an appointment with the best neurologist money can buy. I know Nevaeh already has a doctor, but I’m going to make sure whoever sees her is the best out there. I’m not taking any chances.