Page 9 of Entwined
“Colson,” I whispered, my voice thick with tears. “Please, don’t leave me. Don’t leave us, not yet.”
His eyes fluttered open, just for a moment, and he gave me the faintest of smiles. It was enough to break my heart all over again.
Colson came home to recuperate a few days after the surgery. The house had taken on a somber tone, its walls heavy with unspoken fears. Nurses were hired to offer round-the-clock care, but I found myself taking on most of the responsibilities. I couldn’t trust anyone else to care for him the way I could, the way I needed to.
His once vibrant presence was now a shadow of what it had been. The man who had commanded rooms with his voice, his presence, now lay in bed, weak and fading. His beautiful, thick hair, which he had always been so proud of, was gone, fallen out from the harsh treatments. I tried not to flinch when I looked at him, but the sight of his bald head, his gaunt face, made my heart clench with grief.
A small bump was beginning to show beneath my clothes, a quiet reminder of the life growing inside me. I would catch Colson’s gaze lingering there sometimes, a mix of sadness and longing in his eyes. I knew he wouldn’t survive to meet our child, and that knowledge haunted me, a constant ache in my chest that I couldn’t soothe.
Colson continued his treatments, but they were taking more from him than they were giving. He was weaker every day, his body frail, his skin too pale. I couldn’t deny it any longer—he wasn’t going to survive much longer. The thought of my life without him was too painful to bear, so I pushed it away, focusing instead on the present, on caring for him, on making sure he was comfortable.
One evening, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting the room in a warm, golden light, Colson asked me to sit with him. I had just finished helping him with his medication, and I could see the fatigue in his eyes, the way his hand trembled slightly as he reached for mine.
“Joey,” he said, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Come here.”
I sat beside him, taking his hand in mine. His grip was weak, but he squeezed my fingers gently, his eyes locking onto mine. There was something different in his gaze, something more urgent.
“I’ve been offering to tell you my secrets,” he began, his voice faltering. “And you’ve turned me down every time.”
“Colson, you don’t have to…”
“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly. “I need to do this. You need to hear it, Joey. Before it’s too late.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat, the tears I’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “I don’t want to know,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I don’t want to hear something that will make me hate you. I love you, Colson. I just want to remember you like this.”
“But that’s the problem, Joey,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You need to know everything. I can’t leave you in the dark. Not when I’ve done so much wrong.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. Part of me wanted to run, to flee from whatever truth he was about to reveal. But another part of me, the part that loved him, that needed closure, forced me to stay.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Colson’s eyes filled with tears, something I had rarely seen. He took a shaky breath, his hand gripping mine a little tighter.
“I’ve done things, Joey,” he began, his voice breaking. “Things I’m not proud of. Things that have hurt people—hurt you. And I can’t take them back. But you need to know the truth.”
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “Tell me just one for now.”
He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before meeting my gaze again. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thoughtI was protecting you by not telling you but now I want you to know.”
I felt my pulse quicken, the fear creeping up my spine. “What secrets?”
He hesitated, and for a moment, I thought he might back down. His eyes flickered with a mix of fear and regret, emotions I wasn’t used to seeing in him. But then he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He reached up and cupped my face, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“You know about the file box,” he said, his voice laced with resignation.
I felt my throat tighten, my heart pounding in my chest. I worked my jaw, but the words caught in my throat. Finally, I managed to choke out, “It disappeared.”
Colson’s gaze never wavered from mine, a sadness deepening in his eyes. “I wanted you to know the full story, Joey. But in order for me to tell it, I have to start from the beginning. You need to know everything, or it won’t make sense.”
I bit down on my lip, a wave of dread washing over me. “I don’t want to know everything,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible. “It’s all or nothing, Joey. I can’t tell you bits and pieces. If you’re going to hate and resent me, I’d rather you do it in one shot. I’d rather you process it all at once.”
I shook my head, instinctively sliding my hand protectively over my belly. The small bump there was a reminder of what was at stake, of the life growing inside me. Colson noticed themovement, his eyes softening as he covered my hand with his, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the cold fear gripping my heart.
“I don’t want to hate you,” I said, my voice breaking. “I know your father bankrupted my grandfather, but why? Why did it have to happen?”
Colson winced as if my words had struck him physically. “I need to tell you everything, Joey,” he said, his voice pleading. “From start to finish. Please, let me explain.”
