Page 104 of A Chance for Us
Oliver pushes against my entrance and slides inside me. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes when he’s fully seated.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks quickly.
I take his face in my hands. “No. You’re saving me, and I’ve never been as complete as I am now.”
He doesn’t say anything, just moves slowly, making love to me with so much tenderness that I know I have no chance of not falling madly in love with him. If I’m not already there.
Twenty-Six
OLIVER
Today has been incredibly hard. We’re all sitting at Patrick and Linda’s home, waiting for the end to come. These people, who are normally full of laughter and jokes, are somber. Maren is in the room with him and Linda, both refusing to leave his side.
Eileen gets to her feet. “Someone should call Jimmy. This isn’t right.”
Jimmy is the uncle that Linda forbid Patrick to speak to.
“I already did, but he won’t get here in time,” John says.
“He should still get to say goodbye.”
Marie wipes at her cheeks. “He’s never going to forgive himself.”
John looks to me. “Oliver, would you be able to see if Maren would call him?”
“Of course.”
I get up and knock on the door. Maren opens it, and her eyes are red and cheeks are stained with tears. “Hey, any changes?”
She wraps her arms around her middle. “No, it’s minutes at this point.”
I don’t have much time to word this delicately. “Would you consider calling your uncle Jimmy and letting him say goodbye?”
Linda, who I hadn’t thought was listening, looks over. She wipes her nose and then nods. “He should get to hear his brothers and sisters before he goes.”
Maren grips my hand. “Thank you.”
“I’ll bring you some coffee.”
I don’t know why I say that, but it seems like something she needs.
I head back out, let everyone know that Maren is calling now, and then grab coffee and something to eat for her and Linda. When my grandmother died, food seemed to be all anyone wanted. Stella, who had been the closest to her, was always putting some tray of something out. She baked, cooked, and constantly made us all plates of food. So, I’m going with that same logic.
Before I can bring it in, Maren exits. “You should take a turn going in and saying goodbye.”
Everyone gets to their feet, and as they file past Maren, they make physical contact with her in some way. Either kissing her cheek, gripping her arm, or patting her back.
“Here, you should drink this and try to eat something.”
She looks at the plate and lets out a sob. I put it down and grab her, pulling her in my arms.
“He’s dying. He’s really dying, and I’m not ready.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“I’m not ready to lose him. He doesn’t know how much I love him, and I hate that I lied to him.” She looks up at me. “I lied to him, and I hate myself.”
This is what I’d been worried about. “You did nothing wrong. We’re not lying anymore, sweetheart.”
