But, dear God, please let me strip the bittersweet from that ending.
I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
He kisses back, soft, slow, sure.
I pull back with a heavy sigh. "I have to go. For my needle biopsy."
He motions to his car. "I'm driving."
"'Cause it's harder for me to get away?"
"Sunshine, you overestimate my intellect."
Chapter Forty-One
Chloe
After the test, Dean and I wait in the hospital cafeteria. The bright, cheery room is all aqua walls and wide windows.
For once, it doesn't feel like the sunlight mocking me.
It feels…
This might not be, okay. But I'm ready to face reality. Whatever it is.
Dean distracts me as well as he can. We trade gossip about clients, and high school friends, and celebrities then we move on to movies, and food, and tea, and friends, and sex…
And, well, we kind of stick with that topic.
I'm on my fifth cup of tea when my phone buzzes with the doctor's number.
We take the elevator to the fifth floor. Walk the narrow beige hallway. Turn the handle to suite 505.
I step inside with all the strength I can muster.
Dean stays behind me, his hand still glued to mine.
The receptionist nods. "Chloe, he's ready for you."
He's ready for me. With my fate. With…
Fuck, I just have to know.
Now.
I squeeze Dean's hand as I cross the room. He follows me into the patient area.
"Suite three," the receptionist calls.
It's the first door on the right. A standard doctor's room. Teal patient bench. Plain grey chairs. Stool. White counter. White cabinets. Sink.
"You'd think the guy wouldn't make me wait anymore." I sit in one of the chairs and fold one leg over the other.
Dean sits next to me. He rubs the space between my thumb and forefinger with his thumb.
The soft gesture is comforting. Calming. Not enough, but some.
I rest my head on his shoulder.
Let my eyelids fall together.
No matter what, this isn't the end. At best, I have four more years until I'm in the clear. At worst…
God.
Please don't let it be at worst.
I inhale the moment. The soft touch. The warmth of his skin. The clean, linen scent of his soap.
The creak of the door.
Fuck.
I bounce in my seat. Pressing my palms into my quads does nothing to help. I'm crawling out of my skin.
I need to know.
I need it to be okay. But even more than that, I need to know.
Dr. Nyguen's eyes meet mine. "You're going to be okay, Chloe." His voice lifts. "It's a lipoma, a fatty tumor. Benign."
Benign.
"You don't have cancer."
That's…
I…
Fuck.
I jump out of my seat and crawl into Dean's lap.
"You don't have cancer." He reaches up. Rests his palm against my cheek.
I blink back a happy tear. "I…" I force myself to turn back to the doctor. "Is everything else okay?"
He nods. "We'll still need to do a scan every year, but it's just a precaution."
For once, I feel the truth behind his words.
It is just a precaution.
It's not a death sentence.
I…
"I'll give you two a minute." Dr. Nguyen laughs. "We'll call to schedule next year's MRI."
"Okay." I turn back to my boyfriend. "I…"
He catches a tear on his thumb. "Me too."
"Fuck. This is…" I press my forehead to his. "This is so good."
He nods. "Yeah."
"I'm really going to be okay."
"You're gonna be better than okay, sunshine. At least if I have any say in the matter." He brings his hands to my hips. Straightens my body so I'm perched on his thighs. "Gotta show you something."
"Yeah?"
He nods as he unbuttons his jeans.
"Dean, I-"
"Trust me."
That's not it. I don't trust myself. I want to pounce. I want to wrap my legs around him and fuck him until I forget the world.
I…
He rolls his jeans over his hip.
There's a flash of black.
Then all of it.
A shooting star streaks across his skin.
The same as mine.
"Wanted you to know I was all-in." He stares up at me. "Chloe, I love you so fucking much."
"I love you too." The words roll off my tongue without passing through my brain. But I don't need my brain right now.
I need my heart.
And my heart is sure.
And this…
Fuck.
I press my lips to his. "Promise you aren't going anywhere?"
"Not in a million years."
Epilogue
Dean
A sweet, slow song pours from the speakers.
Chloe wraps her arms around my shoulders. Looks up at me with a hazy smile. "I didn't think this was going to happen."
The hotel ballroom blurs into warm light and bright flowers as we spin. The dance floor is crowded with people in formal wear—does Chloe's sister even know this many people?—but it still feels like our universe. "Me either."
"Please. You've been insistent that Mark was just waiting for the right moment."
I can't deny the allegations. Ever since we made this official, I've been a fixture at Lee family dinners. I spent a lot of nights telling Gia that Mark would get his shit together. She spent most of them rolling her eyes and warning me not to hurt Chloe.
To be honest, I'd almost given up on the guy when he finally did pop the question. Fuck. That was only three months ago. Gia fast tracked the wedding. Dragged Chloe into a world of dresses, bouquets, seating arrangements.
It's been weird, seeing her all girly.
She looks gorgeous in her fuchsia dress and heels, but she doesn't look like my Chloe.
Like the girl who will threaten to throw me over her shoulder if I fuck with her.
"What?" Her fingers curl into my hair. "You're giving me a look."
Yeah. I am. This is getting me all gooey and romantic. Watching Chloe walk down the aisle with Mark's brother… it was so real. So close to what it could be. "Thinking about Mark and Gia's honeymoon."
"What about it?"
"Which of them prefers to be on top."
Her nose scrunches in distaste. "You're baiting me. I'm not taking it."
I shrug suit yourself.
She nods I will. For a long moment, her poker face is strong. Then it crumbles. "Well…" She draws circles on the back of my neck. "Which of them?"
"I think that's pretty obvious."
"Ugh. Why do I talk to you?"
"Good body."
"True."
"Cock piercing."
She laughs. "Yeah. That is fun." She looks up at me. "You aren't really thinking about their wedding night, are you?"
Not the way she means. Fuck, if that was us, I'd already have my arms around her. I'd already be carrying her across the threshold, laying her on the bed, fucking her brains out.
I wouldn't be here, thanking family members and coworkers for attending.
"You have that look again?" She presses her hips against mine.
"What look?"
"I don't know. It's weird. Like you're daydreaming."
"Guess I am."
Her fingers dig into my skin. She looks up at me, her dark eyes hazy with love, affection, champagne. "What about?"
"What I'm gonna do to you."
"Oh?"
I press my palm into her lower back. Pull her closer. "You know… I kind of thought you were going to invite me to Vegas after my last test."
"I considered it."
"But?"
"Couldn't find a place with Earl Grey cake."
She laughs as she flips me off. "You shouldn't mock your girlfriend."
"What if she's my wife? Can I mock her then?"
"Are you proposing?"
Fuck, I want to. I've been ready for ages. But I'm not narcissistic enough to ask my girlfriend to marry me at her sister's wedding. "I think Gia might kill me."
"Yeah. She would. For sure."
"It would be worth it."
Her smile spreads over her lips. "Can you imagine the look on Ryan's face if we showed up wearing wedding rings?"
I can't help but laugh. Ryan is still Mr. Romance. He still worships the ground Leighton walks on.
And he's still not a fan of me teaching Chloe.
I can't blame him. It took us a long time to figure it out. For a while, we completely failed at keeping work and play separate. Brought fights and flirting to work. Brought work home. Made use of the back room when we were supposed to be doing mock-ups.
But we did figure it out eventually.
We don't talk work at home.