Always You

I had Huntington’s.

 

The disease that killed my father was going to kill me too. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; dad had died from pneumonia, a complication of the disease, but this was my future. I felt frozen, unable to react. God knows what was going though Wrenn’s mind. Maybe it would be best if she moved on without me. I had no idea what was next. What kind of life could I offer her?

 

“So, what now?” I asked, clearing my throat.

 

“Now, we monitor you. At the moment, every few years, we will follow up. Once symptoms develop, we will track the progression. This doesn’t have to be a death sentence, Dalton. You probably have a good fifteen to twenty years before you develop symptoms. The CAG repeats are on the lower side of positive, and this is a good thing.”

 

I wanted to laugh. Not a death sentence?

 

Says the guy who was not suffering from an incurable terminal disease that would slowly rob him of his independence, and eventually his life. I stood up, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on me.

 

I need to get out of here. I felt sick. I headed for the door, knocking over my chair, with getting out of there the only thing on my mind. I made it outside, with no recollection of going through the waiting room area to get there.

 

Breathing in the freezing air, I gripped my hands behind my head, terrified and unsure of what to do next. Crouching down against the brick wall of the office, I slid down until I was sitting on the ground, my head in my hands.

 

“Dalton.”

 

I felt her arms around me. I didn’t look up. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stand to see her face. I didn’t want to know what she was thinking. I didn’t want to imagine living without her, or dying and leaving her.

 

“I can’t do this, Wrenn. I can’t just wait to die,” I said, my voice breaking.

 

“Then don’t. Live because you can. Live because you have twenty—maybe more—years before you show symptoms, then maybe another twenty. Live because you love me, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you yet.” She was crying, her dark hair enveloping my face, her soft hands warm against my neck.

 

God, I can’t stand the thought of losing you either.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Three

 

 

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Wrenn

 

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“I just want you to be sure.”

 

I shook my head and laughed. How many times did I have to tell him that he was what I wanted? Many, it seemed.

 

“It’s been a month, Dalton. Trust me, I’ve had time to settle. I’ve had more than enough time to think about things, and I have no doubt in the world that I want to be with you.”

 

“Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all month.” He smiled and cupped my chin, smothering me with sweet kisses. I closed my eyes and relished in the attention, loving every minute of it.

 

For the last few weeks we’d been staying with his mom. Dan and Layna had been down a few times, especially in the early days of his diagnosis. Those first few days were hell: everyone was acting like he’d died, mourning for the loss that might still be thirty years away. Things had settled down now, and were almost back to a normal routine.

 

The next week, we were moving to Boston. We had finalized the lease agreement on a little two-bedroom apartment not far from the university. I couldn’t wait. Dalton was looking forward to his course, and because mine wouldn’t start until next year I was going to look for a job. It was exciting planning a future with the man I loved.

 

I tried not to think about the diagnosis, because I was determined not to spend my time grieving. I’d done enough of that already.

 

***

 

I looked up from the jobs section of the Boston Local and saw Dalton’s smiling face.

 

“For God’s sake, Wrenn, enjoy your time off. Worry about work when we get there.” He slid into the seat beside me, reaching for an apple from the fruit bowl in the center of the table.

 

I made a face at him. “Excuse me, but I want a job. I’m excited about getting out there and working.”

 

“That’ll last about a week,” he chuckled.

 

I stuck my tongue out at him.

 

“Just because you have a poor work ethic doesn’t mean we all have to,” I said lightly, standing up and slapping him with the newspaper.

 

He caught my arm as I went to walk past and twirled me around until I fell into his lap. “You’re lucky you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing my neck.

 

I giggled as he worked his way to my lips. I would never tire of kissing him.

 

“You’re fucking amazing, Wrenn, you know that? Not a moment goes by where I don’t appreciate how lucky I am to have found you.”

 

I smiled, wrapping my arms around him, knowing that I was the lucky one.

 

“I love you,” I murmured, my mouth finding his. He kissed me roughly, his hands moving all over me, like he couldn’t get enough. “I love you so much.”

 

“God, Wrenn, I love you too.” He shook his head and looked deep into my eyes. “Whether you realized it or not, since that first time we met all those years ago, you’ve inspired me to be more than I thought I ever could be. It was always you...”