“Why?” I screamed quietly.
“How could you?” I asked painfully.
“Not yet,” I begged brokenly.
But no one answered.
No owl hooted.
No shooting star offered salvation.
And yet, howling at the moon and spreading my fears in the dark was cathartic enough to piece myself back together again, wipe away my tears, pick up the clean plates, and head back to the fire and my boys.
*
“Wow, Dad. Thanks!” Jacob hurled himself into Ren’s arms.
Star Wars wrapping paper scattered on the forest floor, forgotten as the Swiss Army knife became his prized possession.
“Don’t hurt yourself with that, you hear?” I laughed as he kissed Ren’s cheek.
Ren patted his back. “You’re welcome. I can show you what each thing does if you want?”
“Nah, it’s okay. I’ve played with one of yours before.”
“Oh, you have, have you?” Ren raised an eyebrow in my direction, smirking. “Told you, Della. Our son isn’t a kid anymore.”
I stood, brushing leaves off my ass. A few floated into the fire with a quick whoosh of fuel. I laughed again, forcing happiness. “Fine. What do I know? Ten seems to be the new adult these days.”
Ren chuckled.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Leaving them to discuss blade points and miniature saw skills, I secretly pulled the Tupperware container out of the backpack and went to hide by the tent to stab ten candles into the poor vanilla pony.
With my pocketed lighter, I lit them all then headed back carrying the birthday dessert singing, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to, Jacob! Happy birthday to you.”
Jacob groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Ugh, no singing, Mom. That’s just embarrassing.”
Ren ruffled his blond head, tugging his son’s small ear. “Never take these moments for granted, Wild One. It’s these that you’ll remember forever.” His dark eyes met mine and once again, the fracturing brokenness inside threatened to overwhelm me.
Tearing my gaze away, I cleared my throat and dropped to my haunches, delivering the cake to Jacob. “Make a wish and blow them out.”
Squeezing his eyes tight, Jacob paused for a moment, then, as serious as if he sat an exam, he blew all ten out in one breath.
Ren grabbed the knife that was forever wedged in his boot, placed the blade in the fire for a few seconds to sterilize it, then cut off the pony’s head and gave it to Jacob. “Birthday boy gets first bite.”
“Thanks.” Jacob shoved it in his face, icing going everywhere.
Ren and I laughed, sharing another heart-warming, heart-breaking look as he passed me a leg and he had the tail.
We ate quietly for a bit, enjoying the sugar, remembering our first birthday together where cupcakes had been our first taste of refined goodness instead of the fructose found in fruit.
So much had happened since then, yet it felt as if nothing had happened at all.
Ren was still a forest dweller, and I was still madly in love with him.
I’d been in love with him for thirty-two years, and it wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough.
Sucking in a shaky breath, I scooted closer to Ren. He smiled sadly, coughing a little before putting his arm around me.
I kissed his throat, inhaling the heady wild flavour of the man who’d raised me and the man I’d married.
I’d loved him in every way someone could love another—platonically, sisterly, wifely. And now, I loved him in a way that couldn’t be explained. A way that transcended everything. A way that had no name because the way we loved existed past language and law. An astral kind of love that made its home in the stars and vacationed on Jupiter.
“You know…” Jacob looked up, his boyish, beautiful face softening with affection rather than acting annoyed at seeing us cuddle. “I made my wish for you guys.” His dark eyes, so similar to Ren’s, welled up. “I wished that you were better, Dad. I wished you weren’t gonna have to go someplace.”
Instantly, Ren reached across and dragged Jacob into a three-way hug. Jacob on his knees between us, his tiny frame so slight but so strong.
Tears trickled down my face as Ren shuddered with emotion.
When we could talk without sobbing, Ren said softly, “I wish that too, Wild One, but you have to understand. A wish is something that you want to come true, no matter how impossible it is. Some do come true. And some…don’t. But it doesn’t mean I’m not still here. Not still inside you. You’ll hear me if you listen hard enough because I have no intention of missing you grow into a man.”
Jacob grinned, bucking up and proving just how brave he was. Braver than me by far. “Fine. Just don’t yell at me when I screw up, ’kay?”
Ren chuckled. “No promises. Depends how badly you screw up.” Letting us both go, Ren placed a hand over his mouth and coughed. Once he’d gotten his breath again, he said, “Now, I know you’re old, and it’s not cool anymore, but how about a story? I can do a horror, so you won’t sleep. I can do a romance, so you gag. I have a lot of stories these days tucked inside this skull.” He tapped his temple. “What’s it gonna be?”
Jacob pursed his lips, thinking. “Is the horror about why you have that brand on your hip?”
I stiffened, but Ren merely nodded, sagely, calmly. “Yeah, but you’ve already heard that story before.”
“Meh, tell it again. But do the voices of that nasty farmer and everything.”
Ren glanced at me, his head cocked in question.
I smiled and nodded.
We had no secrets from our son. We’d been honest about everything once the kids at school terrified him about Ren’s illness. If he had a question, we did our best to answer it. Better our tale came from us than a township who still sometimes thought our last name Wild was brother and sister and looked at Jacob in disgust.
It wasn’t many.
But enough to ensure Jacob should be forearmed about our unusual love story.
Throwing more sticks onto the fire, I passed Ren a water from the cooler beside me.
“Thanks, Ribbon.” He smiled, sharing a galaxy of things in his stare.
“Always.” Dropping off the log, I settled myself between his legs and rested my head on his thigh. “Always.”
His hand landed in my hair, playing with the strands as his deep, provocative voice filled the forest. “Once upon a time, there was a boy whose mother didn’t want him…”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
REN
2032
MAKING LOVE TO Della was still my favourite thing to do.
It didn’t matter that I had to stay sitting upright so I didn’t have a coughing fit.
It didn’t matter that my breath came short and my heart went wild.
Nothing else mattered when I slid into my wife and felt that epic sensation of connection. Her heat, her body, her welcome.
She was better than any painkiller and more potent than any cure.
Sex with Della always reminded me to keep fighting, no matter how bad some days became.
With our lips locked, we stayed as quiet as we could.
The tent was large enough to give us privacy from Jacob—with us zipped behind our partition and Jacob zipped behind his—but we had to be careful.
Had to be secret.
We touched in the dark, hands trailing over naked skin that was as familiar to each other as our own. Her fingers found me, squeezing hard. My fingers found her, sinking deep.
We kissed slow and passionate and hungry.
Our bodies quickened for more, thirsty.
I wanted her, but I also wanted to delay and enjoy every moment because there was no denying now, no pretending that we’d have forever.
I was tired.
Exhausted.
It wasn’t just about the constant pain or struggle to breathe; it was the agony in my wife’s and son’s eyes. The hidden tears and smothered flinches as they saw me skinny and coughing.
I didn’t want them to remember me like that.
I wanted them to remember me as a man who could protect them from everything, including death itself.