Page 75 of Write Me For You
Afterward, June lay in my arms, and I had never felt so peaceful in my life. June was tracing the heart on my palm. I kissed her head and wished on that four-thousand-year-old star that we could go just like this. In one another’s arms, no pain, just happiness and light until we drifted away.
“We’ll never go gray,” June murmured, and I stilled. June lifted her head, and I met her watery gaze. “We’ll never get wrinkles.”
“People spend a lot of money to avoid them.” I chuckled.
“I wouldn’t,” she said, then crushed my heart when she added, “I would want nothing more than to see a wrinkle form on my forehead, evidence that I was getting older and living my life. I would smile with pure joy seeing a gray hair on my hairline because it would mean that we were being giventime.”
June sighed, and it took all that I had to not break down in tears.
“And laughter lines,” she said, smiling. “I would watch those laughter lines grow deeper each year, rejoicing that I had the energy to laugh.” June moved up to my chest and rested her chin on her hand. “Because that’s my favorite thing to do with you: laugh. Through all the pain and the sadness, you have helped me keep joy in my heart this entire time, Jesse.” June’s eyes shimmered. “I don’t think you know what a gift that has been to me.”
“I know, June. Because you have been a gift to me too.”
June lay back down on my chest and, with a hitch in her breathing, said, “I know this is our fate and that death is hovering close to us, but I would have really loved to have a life with you, Jesse. Not even a big life—I’d have been content witha little one. I would have loved to have been your wife and had children with you. And year by year, we would watch them grow from our home in the country, until they were old enough to move on, then we’d watch the grandchildren grow too.”
June smiled up at me. “And we’d sit on our porch swing, eighty years old and still holding one another’s hearts in our hands, with a map of wrinkles on our faces and gray hair on our heads. And our laugh lines would be deep and speak of a life lived with so much laughter, gratefulness, and love.” June cupped my cheek. “Because we would havelived, Jesse. We would have lived such a beautiful life.”
“That sounds real nice, Junebug,” I whispered, because I could hardly speak. That life sounded perfect.
June took her hand off my face and laid it over my heart. She laid her head down there too, and I listened to her breathe as she listened to my heartbeat. Her breathing was sweetest sound to me these days because it meant I still had her beside me.
Eventually, her breathing evened out, and I reached for my sketchpad and pencil and began to plan. I couldn’t make all June’s dreams come true; we would never be those people sitting on the porch watching our grandchildren play. But I could do one thing—one huge, extra-special thing.
We had the time. Just a little more time to make it come true.
But it would be just enough.
CHAPTER 26
June
Jesse and June’s Happily Ever After
Iwalked into the hospital room where Jesse was watching last week’s Longhorns’ game on the TV from his bed. Although he could no longer play this season, he was determined to be back for the next. Knowing Jesse Taylor, he would be. His hair was gone, and I smiled at the familiar faded, Longhorns hat on his head. He looked just how he had when I met him.
For weeks now, Jesse had been enduring the intense treatment. It felt strange not to do it
alongside him. And it terrified me too. But he was taking every day as it came, and I’d never felt more useful to someone than I did sitting beside him and just being there with him.
When I came in, he turned, smiling, and immediately held out his hand. I walked straight over to him and kissed him on his lips. Every time we kissed, my heart sang with relief.
It was working again. Thank the Lord, it was working.
During the first month of Jesse’s treatment, I hadn’t been able to function. I couldn’t eat or sleep, worrying that itwouldn’t work this time—like in the book I was nearly done writing, the one where Jesse and I had not responded to the clinical trial and we were losing our lives at seventeen.
But the treatmentwasworking, and although the road he’d traveled had been another filled with rough terrain, he was doing well. Every time I saw the level of his strength and courage, it just made me love him that much more. Jesse Taylor was determined to walk this life beside me, was fighting to stay with me. There was no greater expression of love in the world than that.
We’d talked in depth about what we wanted in life. We had agreed that it was to grow old, have a family, and watch them grow from our porch swing. And that’s what we were holding on to. That was our dream that we were determined to make come true.
A knock sounded, and Chris popped his head through. Emma followed behind. “Chemo Club assemble!” Chris shouted, and Jesse got to his feet, laughing. We all hugged as we said our hellos.
“How long are you here for?” Jesse asked, and Emma and Chris sat down on the chairs around the bed. Jesse sat on the bed and pulled me down beside him. He put his arm around me, and I sank into his embrace. When I wasn’t at school, I was here, with my love.
“All weekend,” Chris said.
“I’m going to the game tomorrow,” Jesse said, smiling. “You coming?”
Chris held out his arms. “Why do you think we’re here, bro? I’m not missing the hero’s welcome you’re gonna get as you step onto the field.” The Longhorns were making it to the playoffs, and a huge part of that was due to the start Jesse had given them this season.
