Page 37 of Where Happiness Begins
His body visibly relaxes.
“Although I’m not sure you should be relieved yet.” I take a careful step his way and try to give him my most charming smile. “I have another favor to ask.”
“So, before we go in, I need you to promise to act the shit out of this,” I tell Carter as we get closer to Nan’s retirement home.
I have to force myself not to ogle at him while he drives. Ever since he came back from the basement dressed in a black crewneck and clean dark jeans that make his ass look ten out of ten, I’ve been trying my best not to drool over him, but it’s more difficult than you would think.
He throws me a quick look. “What’s up with that?” he asks.
Hoping he didn’t bust me staring at him, I say, “She can’t know the truth. Ever.”
“You think your grandmother would blab about us?”
“No. I think the truth would devastate her.”
Outside the window, the overflowing trees create a blur of color that’s almost neon green. Spring has always been my favorite season for that reason. Everything is so vibrant, so electric.It feels like the entire world is coming back to life, more intense than ever before.
Carter doesn’t say anything, but I can feel in the silence that he’s waiting for me to elaborate. And after more than a month of being married to him, I guess it’s time I tell him at least some part of the story.
“I’ve been sick pretty much my entire life.”
While Carter’s attention remains ahead, his grip tightens around the steering wheel, balancing his fingers.
“Diagnosed in childhood with a disease that pretty much destroyed my kidneys little by little until they were unusable and I had to go on dialysis. Started it at thirteen years old, three times per week, four hours per session. There was nothing else to do while I was put on the transplant waitlist to receive a new kidney.
“As you can imagine, all those treatments cost a pretty penny, and it’s always just been me and my dad. He had good health insurance that covered most of the costs, but he still had to work twice as hard to pay for the difference.”
Carter’s throat bobs. He doesn’t turn when he asks, “What about your mother?”
“What about her?”
“Where was she?”
“Left when I was two. Said she was destined for more than motherhood.” My voice is calm, so unlike how it was at some point. “It used to haunt me when I first got diagnosed. Every time I sat in that dialysis chair while kids my age went to school and attended dances, I’d think about how my mother might’ve beena match. If she’d stayed, maybe she could’ve given me one of her kidneys and life could’ve gone back to something close to normal, but she was never there for me to even ask.”
After a pause with only the sound of the engine between us, Carter says, “I’m really sorry, Lilianne.”
“Lil. And it’s fine.” I inhale a deep breath. “It’s fine. I’ve made my peace with it. And I did end up receiving my transplant after all without needing her help, so that’s the best outcome I could’ve hoped for.” My lips turn down, and I have to force my voice to remain steady. “I’m just sad my father never got to see it. He died before he got the chance to live the moment we’d been waiting for for years.”
I wish this didn’t make me so emotional, but I can’t help it. Every year, when I baked Dad a cake for his birthday, he told me he’d wished for random things while blowing his candles, but I always knew it was a lie. I don’t think he ever spent one wish—birthday cake, eyelash, shooting star—on something other than my transplant.
When I got the call that they had found a match for me almost four months after his death, my first reaction wasn’t to jump around, but to break down into sobs because he’d missed it by so little. The one thing he wanted more for me than even I did.
I blow out a breath, blinking fast, then I clear my throat. “Anyway. So after an operation and expensive anti-rejection medications I still had to take, my medical debt started building up, and without my father’s insurance, there was no way for me to be able to continue paying it forever—which is where you came in.” Idon’t know why Carter’s gaze makes me blush just then, but it does. “And while my life is just fine, I know my nan would feel terrible to know I got married because I was struggling financially instead of asking her for help. I know her. She’d have moved out of her residence and into a cheaper one to help me, and I couldn’t have lived with myself.”
There. It’s done. Now Carter has most of the pieces of the puzzle and he can do whatever he wants with them.
When he remains silent as he turns onto the nursing home’s parking lot, I start questioning whether he needed to know all that. Maybe he’s judging me for lying to my grandmother. Maybe he thinks it’s stupid that I didn’t try harder to find a job with benefits when I need them so badly. Maybe he even thinks he’s regretting marrying me now that he knows I’ll be using his insurance policy a lot and it might raise suspicions on the legitimacy of our marriage.
However, he qualms all those doubts when he parks the car and exits before rushing to open my door, extending his hand my way. I hesitate, gaze going from his long fingers to his serious brows. We haven’t touched since the livestream a few days ago, and that was only pretending.
My hesitation doesn’t last long, though. I trust this man, for whatever reason, and if he wants to take my hand, there’s no reason for me to say no. His palm is warm against mine, and once I’m out of the car, he lets go of my fingers just to wrap his arm around my waist, making my breath catch in my throat. Then, with the most serious face, he says, “All right, wife. Let’s give that woman the best show she’s ever seen.”
Chapter 16
“Weren’t they amazing?”
I pull my hair away from my sweaty neck and into a high ponytail, chest still pounding after dancing for the entire two-hour show. Next to me, Lexie and Wren look equally disheveled and equally awestruck. While I don’t get to see Wren as much as I do Lexie since she lives with her husband, Aaron, in Boston, I love her just as much. She has health struggles of her own and understands me in ways that are sometimes difficult to explain.
