Only in Dreams(69)

“Don’t say that!”

He sighs and squeezes my hand tighter. “One of the few things that makes me really sad is the thought of you being alone if I don’t make it.”

“Stop it! You’re going to be fine.”

“Paige, please, this is important to me. If something does happen to me, and I don’t make it, I want you to promise me something.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I insist, then start to stand up, trying to pull away.

Henry tightens his grip, pulling me into him. “You need to let me say this. I can’t bear the thought of you never allowing yourself to love again. If something happens to me, I want you to be open to being happy again. Promise me.”

“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head.

Henry huffs, and I can see he’s tired.

“We haven’t even been married for a week, and you’re talking about me finding someone else. You do realize how fucked up that is, don’t you?”

“This entire situation is fucked up. Should I wait until I’m sicker, until this conversation might be too hard for me to have? I know you, and I know how you’ll be if things don’t work out. You’ll retreat into yourself, never opening up to anyone ever again.”

“What happened to a positive attitude? You said the doctors told you that is important. It’s like you’ve already given up,” I argue.

“No, I haven’t, and if you’ll just promise me that you’ll move on when I’m gone, then I won’t have to think about it anymore, and I can refocus all my thoughts on more positive things.”

“I don’t want anyone else, that’s why I married you.”

“I get that, but you might not have that option, and the idea of you spending the rest of your life alone out of some sick loyalty to me, or because you’re scared of getting hurt again, makes my heart literally ache.” His voice is starting to crack, and I can see how much the conversation is taking a toll on him.

I look down at my hands, fidgeting with my fingers and twisting my wedding ring in circles. I don’t want him to worry about me. I want him to put all of his energy into getting well. I glance up; his eyes are already watching me. I take a deep breath, and with a slight nod, I say, “I promise.”

Henry pushes himself out of the chair, wrapping his arms around me, and my head presses against his chest. “Then let’s call Dr. Abbott and see if I can get my treatments moved.”





I STARE AT the words in the letter, struggling with pinpointing exactly how they make me feel. We were so excited to hear that Henry seems to be getting better. The two of you are always in my thoughts. As soon as Henry’s feeling up to it, Colin and I would love to have you two come down for a visit. Colin keeps joking about the forever-long honeymoon you two seem to be on, but I swear, I haven’t said anything about Henry’s condition, though I hope you will soon.

I’ve now been Mrs. Henry Wallace for over two months. In that time I’ve taken my husband to more chemo appointments than I care to count and watched as his body shift into one I barely recognize. He has become lethargic, sleeping most of our days away. He’s always nauseous and has wasted away even more over time, his body appearing bruised, as if it is being used as a punching bag. And if all of these things aren’t bad enough, he also gets to deal with the loss of his hair. I’ve been by him through all of these things, careful to never come unraveled or project any of my concern onto him. But it does seem he is now finally showing improvement, and we have the opportunity to come out of our seclusion. It infuriates me that one thought continues to plague me—Christian.

I want to see Emmie and Colin more than anything, to spend time with Olivia, but going to Texas means I’ll have to see him. I can’t figure out if my concern is that he will reveal my indiscretions to Henry, or if it’s simply the lingering guilt still haunts me. No matter the cause, the cloud is hanging over me, and even if we might be able to visit my Emmie eventually, I cannot think about that right now.

“Is that a letter?” I hear Henry’s voice over my shoulder.

Quickly folding up the page and sliding it between the couch cushions, I turn and smile at him. “Oh yeah, it’s just Emmie. Lots of Olivia stories, you know how she is. How are you feeling?”

“Actually,” he says, pausing for a moment. “I feel great.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s hard to believe we’re heading into the city already to see Dr. Abbott.”

I stand and walk over, slipping my arm around his slender body, his bulky sweater slightly masking the change in his appearance. “I have a really good feeling about this,” I announce.