What's Left of Us Page 52

“Just like that?”

She gives me a sad smile. “I can’t control that I was sick. I can’t control my current state of health, but together we can control the path our life takes. Living a life based on fear isn’t living at all. Those words are sticking to me like glue. If we accept that someday I’m going to pass on, that you’re going to pass on, then we can move on and continue to live our life together, as a family.”

I pull her to my chest, clutching her tightly. “I’m scared, Aundrea. Scared of living without you. Scared of that nightmare becoming reality. I don’t want to end up like Brandon. I’m terrified of finding you one day ... God, I can’t watch it again.”

“Me too.” She sighs into my chest. “Me too.” Her soft fingers rub soothing circles on my back.

She places my right hand on her chest, and my left on my own and covers my hands with hers. I can feel the strong, steady beating of her heart, as if it’s speaking its own language. “Do you feel this?” I nod. I feel it loud and clear. “My heart beats as long as yours does. We’re one, Parker. I’m not going anywhere without you. We’re unbreakable.”

I believe her. With all of me, I believe everything that comes out of her mouth. I’m just not convinced she believes what she’s saying. Not convinced that her fear will dissipate in the face of her words.

“I don’t want to be without you,” I whisper.

“You never will be.”

I run my finger along her cheekbone and across her chin. Her eyes close at my touch. I kiss each closed lid. “You have such a beautiful heart.”

The love I have for her is something I know she’ll never fully understand. The love we have is something most people only wish to experience. She is my present, my future, and my eternity. I won’t let fear wreck what we have.

It’s time I face it.

It’s time I give her that breath.

“I’m home!” I yell excitedly when I get home.

I set my purse down and walk into the empty living room. “Parker?”

I flip on the light in the kitchen. No sign of life.

I didn’t work at the clinic today because, for some reason I have yet to figure out, Genna managed to talk me into helping her pick out and test new recipes today.

Parker said the guys had meetings all day so their schedules were pretty light and it’d be okay to take the day off.

I glance at the clock. Just after four. Parker said he’d be home early, so I can only assume he’s running behind. I don’t have any texts or missed calls.

My feet are cramped from being on them all day. I pull off my shoes and socks and eagerly swap them for my fluffy pink slippers, relaxing the moment my feet sink into softness. I go upstairs to take a quick shower. My shoulders are tense and I’m more than eager to wash away the long day.

Taped on the mirror is a handwritten note from Parker:

Aundrea,

If I’ve planned this correctly, you should have approximately thirty minutes to change and get yourself outside. There will be a limo waiting for you out front that will take you to meet me. I can’t wait to see you.

I love you.

Parker

I stop reading. What is this man up to now? I’m completely confused. I think about what day it is, but can’t come up with any important event we’d be celebrating tonight.

I rip the letter off the mirror, taking it with me, and run over to our closet, all thoughts of relaxing gone. I stare blankly at my closet. How is it I have so many clothes but nothing to wear? I don’t think I have anything in my closet fancy enough for wherever I’d be going in a limo.

Looking back at the letter, I finish reading.

P.S. Don’t stress. You’ll look great in whatever you choose.

P.P.S. If I did not plan this correctly, then you would have seen the limo in our driveway and must be very confused. In that case, hurry your sweet ass up and get back downstairs, as that limo is waiting for you.

*wink*

I drop the note. Genna’s manipulations make sense now. Of course she’d be in on this.

At lightning speed, I shuffle through hangers, deciding on a short, layered, strapless black dress. Feeling the ultra-soft fabric, I smile and slip it on.

I give myself a once over in the mirror. The dress clings to me perfectly and flows over my hips, the bottom layer ending mid-thigh while the sheer top layer hangs just past my knees.

Quickly touching up my make-up and fixing my hair, I spray on perfume so I won’t smell like I’ve been cooking all day.

The ache in my feet disappears as I slip on a pair of black lace flats with square jewels on the toes. I grab my purse, lock the door behind me, and practically skip down the driveway.

True to Parker’s word, there is a black limo waiting at the curb. I carefully walk to a chauffeur who’s dressed in all black, with a fancy hat on his hairless head.

“Good evening, Mrs. Jackson. I’m Craig. I’ll be your driver this evening.”

“Hello.” I give him a shy smile.

Craig opens the door for me and I climb into the back.

“You’ll find a bottle of wine in the chiller and a remote for the radio. Feel free to listen to anything you like. It won’t be a long ride.”

“Are we picking up Parker?”

“No, ma’am. Mr. Jackson will be meeting you at our final destination.” Final destination?

With those words, he rolls up the glass partition.

I pour myself a glass of wine and lean back against the leather cushion. I can’t seem to stop smiling as I text Parker.

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