Page 121 of Roses Are Dead
“Bear?”
“Vow to me that you’ll be here when I get back.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Vow. On your Goddess. You will be here when I get back. And, you’re going to come home with me today.”
He was serious. And also displaying a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before. I moved close so our bodies touched from thigh to chest. “I vow, on the Goddesses of nature, home, fire, and moonlight that I will be here in this hospital waiting for you. And I vow I will return to your home tonight and any night I physically can until your bargain with Carl is done.”
I touched his cheek, above his beard, and very quietly told him, “You’re not losing me today.”
His shoulders lost some of their tension as he bent. Our noses touched and he waited there for a moment, just connecting with me.
My lips hit his skin, and I trailed kisses up his cheekbone to his forehead. I ended between his brows where his third eye rested. To that spot I sent intent and will to back up my words. “Because I fucking said so.”
If my words were out loud or not didn’t matter. I stared him in the eye and showed him my desire to remain true to my word. “I will be here.”
He kissed my lips and nodded.
The air was colder without his presence. Yet the warmth crept back in because I got a whole twenty minutes with Beth. They’d moved her to a room with a sunny southern exposure. Hand-colored pictures of different sizes, skillsets, and types of paper clung to every vertical surface. Even June contributed bright scribbles of pink, blue, green, and purple. They were god-awful, but proof that her children hadn’t forgotten her.
“Hey.” She slipped her hand into mine.
The shadows under her eyes were worse.
“Gwen is getting pretty good at cursive.” I indicated a lovely hand-drawn card she’d made with “Get Well Soon, Mommy” written in carefully bold curves. It stood out against the backdrop of Harry and Arthur’s block letters and June’s shaky squiggles.
“She is.” Beth was quiet, contemplating the wall of pictures. “I started working through my end of life plan.”
The pain hit me like a hammer. I had to swallow at least twice to keep my tone positive. I knew this was coming. It shouldn’t be such a shock. But it was. “How’s John taking it?”
Her lips were tight. “He’s in denial.”
“Not bartering?” I was well-acquainted with the seven stages of grief. Although, acceptance was my enemy. I’d never accept losing her.
“No, you have that one covered.”
Her dart struck home. “I intend to keep bartering until you’re better.”
Her sad eyes met mine. “Don’t.”
I didn’t want to argue with her, either. “I love you. And you can’t give up. I want you fighting every day for one more day.”
She’d told me the same thing once.
A sad smile hit her lips. “We’ve been through some shit, haven’t we?”
I nodded.
Beth changed the subject. “How’d you get here?”
“Bear dropped me off. But I’m getting my car back soon.” One good thing about the confrontation in front of Zoe’s school was that a good ass kicking miraculously saved my car from thousands of dollars of repairs. The tow truck driver agreed to drop it off next week, no charge.
It couldn’t be this week while I was still with Bear, though. Funny how I could smell Carl’s dirty fingers all over that agreement.
She squeezed my hand. “Take it and get far away. Find a lawyer and have him contact John or his father.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
