Page 112 of Rainstorm

I can see her emotions warring between pain and anger.

Between agony and resentment.

Love and hate colliding.

“Rose, about the divorce. I only did it because I was trying to think of you; I couldn’t tie your life to mine. You didn’t marry a cripple, you married a healthy, virile man. A man who could give you a whole life, a family with children, everything you wanted to make you happy.”

In sickness and in health, until death do us part…

“I married you so we’d always be together, in the good times and in the bad times, you stupid fucking idiot!” she yells.

Level ten pissed off lioness.

“So tell me, when did you change your mind and decide it was a good idea that we got back together? What happened?”

Good question.

She taps her foot impatiently, waiting for my answer. And I know I have to choose my words very carefully.

“I talked with my mom about my dad’s last days. We talked about love and devotion, about the memories he left, the way he devoted his life to loving her, to making her happy. How she wanted to be with him for as long as possible, right up until his very last breath, and that she had no regrets. She made me realize that true love and devotion could overcome anything, Rose. So I realized that whether I’m going to live two, three or twenty years, I want to live them with you by my side. Together we are strong enough to see out this storm, however long it may last.”

It took me a while to work out, but I got there eventually. Roselynn may be my biggest weakness, but she’s also my greatest strength.

“Well, good for you, I’m glad you’ve finally got it all worked out,” she says, slowly clapping, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She pushes me away as I try to hug her, to re-connect with her. “But guess what—you made your bed, now you get to sleep in it. Alone. I’m out of here.”

No, no, no.

Determined not to give in to this fucking disease, I will myself to get up and go after her.

She opens the door to leave, but I slam it closed. She growls in frustration then leans her forehead on the polished wood surface.

I stand behind her and put my arms around her, pressing up close to the woman I love so much.

I need her so much and not because of the fucking diagnosis. I need her like the air I breathe.

She’s my everything whether I’m sick or not. In sickness and in health.

“Chase, let go of me,” she orders, but I don’t budge.

“Never! I made that mistake once before, and I’m not about to do it again.”

“Too bad it’s not up to you anymore.” Her bitter reply takes me by surprise, and then she takes advantage of my lack of mobility to push away and escape out the door.

Shit.

I try to follow but the fucking tingling and numbness makes every dragging step I take so fucking slow and heavy.

Fucking stupid legs.

Outside, big fat drops of rain are falling from the heavens like a prophecy of doom. I see her through the heavy rain and call her name, not caring that it’s raining cats and dogs and we’re both getting soaked through. I don’t care what people think is going on as I desperately pursue her, I only care about preventing her from leaving me, and somehow I manage to reach her to grab her arm. I’m not going to let her get away from me, not now, not ever.

“Roselynn, please, just listen to me,” I plead, but she still struggles, so I do the only thing I can think of to keep her from running away.

I play dirty. I kiss her.

We’re drenched in rain, yet I don’t feel the cold, her lips are all I need to keep me warm and alive. I have to make her understand that I will fight, fight for her, for me and for our future.

“Rose... I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

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