I only knew a canyon of vast quaking emptiness with a river of the roughest, churniest despair.
Ren swallowed again, chewing on tears. “I’ve had two treatments with a drug called Keytruda. It’s been proven in other studies to be very successful. Some even call it the miracle drug, and it doesn’t cause as many side effects as chemo.”
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.
I would accept he’d love another, marry another…that was how frantic I was to heal him.
I was willing to exist and grow up in that hell-house with a murdering mother and raping father if it meant Ren survived. Because, at least that way…I would never have known what I was about to lose as I wouldn’t have had him to start with.
Was that selfless or selfish?
Selfless to want him to live or selfish not to want to face the pain?
No matter what happened in the future, I would keep fighting. I would keep clearing the carnage and carrying a sword into battle.
There was no other way.
Because I was Ren’s.
Yesterday, tomorrow, for always.
By the time night had fallen, casting us in moon glow and star shadows, Ren and I were steady enough to venture outside and cook a simple meal.
Watching him boil water for pasta and use his knife to whittle a stick into a stirrer, I made up a story of enchantment where he was part seraph and indomitable—where the inescapable power of age held zero sway.
And that was the moment that I knew, just knew that love would be the hardest thing I’d ever have to endure.
It wasn’t my origins or the fact I was never meant to exist. It wasn’t seeing what my parents did or the dead children they’d tortured.
It was something only a lucky few enjoyed.
Something that was said to be worth any pain or price.
Love.
I was no longer a silly girl who idolized her prince and saviour.
I was a woman born to darkness and now, I bargained with that darkness for hope. Hope for the boy I was created for.
A boy I wanted to marry.
A boy I did marry.
A simple, perfect marriage that was the third largest incident of our lives.
Three out of five moments.
Wonderful moments.
Horrible moments.
Moments that make up a life.
One, two, three, four, five.
One, Ren was arrested, which led to a domino river of birth certificates and closure.
Two, Ren told me he was dying and began a nightmare we would face together.
Three, Ren married me a week after and made me the happiest and saddest girl alive.
Four…?
Well, four arrived eight and a half months later, bringing joy and sorrow in equal measure.
And five?
Ugh, five...
Five will come last.
Once our story is over.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
REN
2021
THERE WERE MANY things I’d experienced in my thirty or so years.
Some mundane and some uncommon, but I’d never felt more aware of my fragility and timelessness than when I said, ‘I do.’
When I joined the ranks of husbands.
When I entered the community of marriage and swore my life to serve, protect, and adore.
Up until the moment I’d heard the word ‘incurable,’ I’d been a patient man.
I didn’t rush. I weighed up the pros and cons before I leapt. I enjoyed knowing every outcome before I committed.
But now…
Now, I was the opposite of patient.
I was thirsty and unrepentant and impetuous.
And I didn’t wait for anything.