Page 141 of Remember Us This Way

“Thank you,” I tell him. “Now hurry up and take me to bed. I haven’t been able to kiss you the way I really want to kiss you with everyone’s eyes on us all day, and if I don’t get to put my hands on you soon, there’s no telling what I might do.”

Noah gapes at me for a moment. I’ve always been forward when I needed intimacy with him, but it usually comes with flushed cheeks and a shy smile, but not tonight, not now.

Noah helps me out of the car and hands his keys to the valet before sweeping me right up into his arms, the delicate train of my dress hanging below. He carries me right into the elevator, his lips on mine the whole way up to the thirty-fourth floor. And when he slides the keycard into the reader and opens the door, a soft gasp slips between my lips.

The room is incredible, but it has nothing on the city views out the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I have to pull away from Noah, needing a moment to take it all in. He sets me on my feet, making sure I’m balanced before allowing me to step out of his strong arms. I make my way across the room and right over to the impressive window as I gaze out at the sunset dancing across the windows of the high-rise building around us. I’ve never seen anything like it.

I’m taking it all in when I feel Noah’s warm fingers at my shoulder, gently brushing over my skin, trailing all the way down my elbows to my hands. My fingers catch his and then his lips are at the base of my throat, and I tilt my head, opening up for more.

His other hand takes my waist, and he turns me until those lips are coming down on mine. Fire burns through my veins, and I push up on my tippy toes, needing to be closer to him. He fingers the beaded strap on my gown, pushing it down over my shoulder, his fingers so sensual over my skin. I need so much more.

He takes his time, kissing me deeply and worshiping every inch of my body as I reach up between us and start unbuttoning his suit shirt.

My dress falls away, and as I free him from the confines of his pants, his hands skim over my ass, effortlessly lifting me. Wrapping my legs securely around him, I hold on for dear life as he turns and walks us over to the massive bed, and as he lays me down against the pillow, he pulls back from our kiss. “I love you so fucking much, Zoey,” he tells me. “This right here, with you in my arms as my wife, I’ll always remember us this way.”

Tears form in my eyes, and I nod, absolutely breathless. “I know,” I tell him, my hand sliding down from his shoulder to his chest, feeling the way his heart beats beneath my palm. “Remember us just like this.”

He nods, his lips coming back down to mine, and when he reaches out over the bed to grab the small foil packet, I shake my head. “Not tonight, Noah,” I murmur. “I just want to feel you.”

He holds my stare a moment longer, and while I’m sure there are a million reasons why we shouldn’t, there are also a million reasons why we should. What it really comes down to is that I love this man with everything I am, just as I told him in my vows, and with only a handful of weeks left, I want to spend every single moment I can feeling the way he makes me come alive. Feeling him and only him.

Noah nods, and not a moment later, he reaches down and grasps my thigh, hitching it high over his hip, and with that, he pushes inside of me, his lips moving over mine.

58

Zoey

Newly wedded bliss has consumed me over these past few weeks, and it’s been so much more than I thought it would be, but I can’t lie, I know my time is coming soon. I can feel it in my bones. I’m almost at the end, and having to watch Noah’s heart break every time he walks into my room is tearing me to shreds.

The pain has taken over, and it’s worse than I was prepared for, even more so now that my organs have started to surrender. They’re giving up, and every day, it only gets harder.

It won’t be long now. Maybe a few days, and I’ve never been so scared. I’m not ready to leave this world without him. I don’t want to be just a memory.

Getting out of bed has become a chore too challenging to tackle until it’s absolutely necessary, and when I do, I need Noah right there holding me up. And in those times when it gets too much and my mind clouds with fear, Noah makes love to me until all I know is the all-consuming bond we share.

I can’t lie. I’m terrified of what waits for me on the other side. Will I see Linc? Will I slip away into nothingness? Or will there be a whole world waiting for me with all the adventures Mom promised? But I’m also terrified of what I’m leaving behind. Mom and Dad will be devastated, crushed, and broken beyond repair, but they’ll hold each other up. Noah and Hazel on the other hand . . . Every time I think about it, my world burns to ashes around me.

I’ve spent the last few weeks immersed in my laptop, writing away, only over these past few days, I haven’t had the strength to finish it. Or perhaps it’s the courage I’m lacking. I know what comes next, but I don’t know how to put that into words.

Kelly—my home care nurse and my nurse from the treatment center—finishes checking my vitals, and the sad, encouraging smile on her face tells me that tonight is not the night. She’s been with me right from the start of that first round of chemo, and since then, we’ve somehow developed some kind of silent way to communicate. I know exactly what she’s trying to tell me by just the simplest flicker in her honey eyes. She was really rooting for me. She really wanted me to be able to pull through this, and over these past six or so months, she’s become family.

Finishing up with her usual treat for Allie, she strides out of my room, closing the door behind her. As she gives my parents an update out in the hallway, I do what I can to block out their muffled voices. I can’t bear to hear how I only have a few days left.

Instead, I pull out the pen and notepad I’ve been busy writing in and get back to work, wanting to leave a little something for the people who mean the most to me.

Tonight’s letter—Hazel.

Noah sits beside me, giving me the privacy I need to write, but I’m not going to lie, I see the few times he peeks over my shoulder, reading the words I’m writing to my little sister. He just can’t help himself, but when the time comes for me to pick up this very notepad and write the words Dear Noah at the top, I don’t know how I’m going to get through it.

It’s well after nightfall when I stuff the five-page essay into the envelope and scrawl Hazel’s name across the front, and I’m exhausted. I can barely hold my own head up, but as I glance over at Noah, watching the way he watches me, I know I have to do this now because come tomorrow, I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to even try.

“Noah,” I say, my voice croaky as a lump forms in my throat.

His eyes are instantly wide, scanning over my face, about ready to launch himself off my bed and race for help. “What’s wrong?” he rushes out. “Are you okay? What do you need?”

“I’m . . . I’m okay,” I breathe, my words getting harder to string into complete sentences. “I just . . . will you take me . . . out to the roof?”

“The roof?” he questions, already shaking his head. “Baby, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

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