Page 99 of Sacrifice
“If I could go back to that day, I’d tell you I loved you right off. It might scare you, but you’d know that I was serious. And I’d get a job and save money and get us a house together as soon as I graduated high school.”
He takes off his Golden Gophers hat and puts it on my head, grinning. “I’d move you in with me and away from your parents and take care of you for every day of the rest of our lives. I wouldn’t go to Minnesota, and I wouldn’t worry about being famous. I’d give all of that up just to have you.”
My cheeks ache from smiling, his words something I never thought he’d ever think. It’s the exact thing I’d wished had happened more times than I could count, but never in my wildest dreams did I think he’d wish for that, too.
He leans in to me and kisses me sweetly on the lips. “I wanted to bring you here tonight to tell you that. To tell you if I could take you back here on that day we met, I’d change everything I’ve ever done for you.”
“Oh, Crew,” I say, cupping the side of his face.
“I don’t expect you to say anything,” he says. “I know things are more complicated for you than they are for me. Just know I loved you then and I love you now. As a matter of fact, you’re the only person I’ve ever loved and the only person I’ll ever love.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper, kissing him.
He rests his forehead against mine. “Whatever happens with everything, just know that. Know I love you and that I never loved anyone else. It’s important to me that you know that. Things are going to get really serious with this fight and I want to know that you know that. Okay?”
“About the fight—”
“No. There’s nothing to discuss.”
We watch the waves lap at the beach, the seagulls squawking in the air.
“I’d do anything for you and Everleigh,” he says, almost to himself. “Whatever happens the night of the fight, I want you to know that I made that decision. I’m not going into it thinking it’s gonna be roses.”
“What are you telling me?”
He shrugs. “Nothing in particular. I just want you to know that I’ve considered every angle. I don’t want you to ever think you didn’t argue enough for me to not fight or try to think another way out of this money thing. This wasn’t your choice.” A small smile graces his lips. “This has given me a purpose in life. A way to give my life back the meaning it lost when I lost you.”
“Crew . . .”
“No, it’s true. This is my second chance at so many things, to right some of the wrongs, to put some good into the world . . . and to love you the right way.”
He presses a kiss against my lips, stealing my breath. He starts to say something else when my phone buzzes beside me. I snatch it off the ground, my heart leaping in my chest.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry to have to call you, Julia,” Olivia says, “but I think you need to come home. Ever’s not well.”
FORTY
JULIA
My chest is warm and not just because Everleigh is curled up on my lap, her face buried into me, sleeping. The peaceful rise and fall of her chest, the way her little lips dip together like she’s kissing, the way her eyelids flutter with her breathing, warm my heart. When she’s sleeping, everything else goes away. The pain on her face, the fear in her eyes, all diminish slightly. I don’t get that relief often anymore. I know she never does. I hope her dreams are as peaceful as they sometimes seem.
Last week we were home and, until the last couple of days, it was bliss. Ever demanded special “daddy time” with Crew. It was my first instinct to object, to panic, but the look on both of their faces when they came into the kitchen and told me they were going to the park stopped me.
They walked out the door, her hand tucked safely inside his, and my heart completely melted. Whether it worried me if it was right or wrong to allow her to call him daddy, didn’t matter. It made her happy. The smile hadn’t left her face all morning, something of a miracle these days.
After a few quiet tears in the bathroom, a mixture of happy and sad, I felt my first true moment of peace. Some normalcy, although nothing normal at all, seemed to be back.
I went to the grocery store, something I normally hate because it’s just a big battle of “what can I afford?” but really didn’t mind. Crew sent me a couple of pics of Ever on the swings, a smile so wide on her face that I couldn’t help but beam in the middle of the produce department. On the way home, I called Human Resources and updated them on what was going on with Everleigh.
And then Crew and I went to Castle Island and all hell broke loose. We rushed her to the ER and they admitted her. Luckily, it was something they were able to control with fluids and more antibiotics, although she never seemed to regain the energy she had before she got so sick.
This was the first time she really, really looked as sick as they said she was. She looked almost . . . lifeless. And there’s no pamphlet, no television show, no pictures, or no lectures from doctors or nurses that can ever prepare you for that. To see your normally vibrant daughter without hair, puking into a bucket, trying to cry but having no tears, trying to talk but having no voice, trying to smile but having no energy or color in her cheeks . . . it’s soul crushing. Hell cannot be worse.
I am sitting in the yellow room at the hospital, in the middle of another round of chemo. A round that is devastating my baby girl in every way. It’s such a contrast to the first round, her sweet face swollen, pain in her tummy that’s so bad she can barely even cry. It’s hell on earth. Pure, absolute, living hell.
It makes no sense logically to think she has to be soabusedto getbetter.It’s even harder to explain toher.Looking into her little face, telling her I can’t take her home, I can’t make it stop, is nothing short of devastating. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.
