I DON’T KNOW when the tears subsided.
I'd been crying for days, but in the comfort of Owen’s arms, I found peace. He had become my home, my solace, the missing piece of myself I didn’t even realize I’d been missing. He was everything, and the mere thought of losing him had carved an irreparable hole in my heart. The pain that filled it over the last week had been debilitating, and I couldn’t look at him and see a future where I’d be happy without him. And that was why I ran. I needed to be able to process what his words meant: he was running out of time and there would come a point in the future when his arms would no longer possess the strength to hold me the way they could now. He wouldn’t be here to shower me with his kisses or whisper to me his affection.
I needed to grieve for the love that I’d inevitably lose.
And grieve I did.
I’d spent the first few days at Drew’s apartment, buried under his covers on his bed with no desire to move, much less eat or function. Every night after finishing his shift at the library, he’d come home and crawl in beside me, pull me into his arms, and hold me until my body succumbed from exhaustion.
“Oh, honey,” he’d whisper, kissing my head softly and rocking me gently to alleviate the uncontrollable shudders. And I’d hold him tightly, crying out my questions and confusion, wondering how life and fate could be so cruel. How they could give me a love that was everything only to rip it out from underneath me before it even had a proper chance to bloom.
“You need to talk to him. You need to go to him, and you need to tell him you love him, Elle.”
“How can I? How can I when I’m going to lose him, Drew?”
“I know, but do you want to know what I think would be an even greater loss? Never being able to experience the love he is capable of giving you. Don’t make not going to see him and missing out on this time you can spend together a regret. Because you will regret it, Elle. And I promise you, that will kill you more than loving and losing him.”
Drews words had stayed with me. So when I returned home to the loneliness that was my own apartment, I’d realized there was only one place I truly wanted to be: in Owen’s arms. At nearly midnight, I’d slipped out of my apartment and waved down the first cab that drove by, directing the driver to the upscale condo building across town. Sneaking past the nightly concierge—as I would’ve needed to be on the approved visitor list and I wasn’t sure Owen had ever added me—I jumped into the elevator and rode it nervously to the twenty-fourth floor. With my broken heart in my throat and tears in my eyes, I gathered all the courage I could find and knocked on his door.
And then there I was.
There he was.
He’d scooped me up in his arms and I was finally right where I belonged—right where I’d always belonged.
As we lay on his bed, I snuggled myself deeper into his side and pressed my cheek to his chest. His fingers made gentle sweeps through my hair, combing it away from my face. Neither of us spoke. Not at first. We allowed the darkness and the silence to consume us, focusing instead on each other: warm skin, shallow breaths, beating hearts—all signs that no matter what tomorrow or three months from now would bring, we were here now, together, alive and capable of loving without restraints, without regrets.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
I smiled sadly at his words, tilting my head back to catch a glimpse of those emerald eyes I loved so much. “I was just thinking about how life has a unique way of showing us what truly matters and how crazy it is that we fall in love with the most unexpected people at the most unexpected times.”
“It is crazy, isn’t it?” He quirked a smile that didn’t quite make it all the way up his cheeks. “I ended up liking you a lot more than I had originally planned, Ms. Callihan.”
“Likewise, Mr. Caldwell.”
Shifting himself on his side and staring right at me, Owen slid his hand across my palm, lacing our fingers together. “I have a confession to make.”
My heart sank. “Oh God, Owen. Please no. I don’t know that I can handle any more of those right now.”
He ignored my request, speaking anyway. “If I had my life to live again, I’d find you sooner. I’d fall for you sooner. I’d love you sooner. I’d do all of those things, but in the end, it still wouldn’t matter because no amount of time spent with you could ever be enough.”
I thought the tears had stopped, but they slowly trickled down my cheeks, soaking the pillow, and when Owen leaned in and caught the newly escaped ones with his lips, I tried hard not to fall apart. “Owen…”
“Thirty-two years…thirty-two years and I have never felt as alive as I do when I’m with you.” He dipped his chin, and as his lips pressed softly and warmly against mine, my entire body sighed in relief at the silent promise the kiss held. It was a kiss that said “I can’t give you forever, but I can give you right now. I can love you with all of me until I can’t, and even then, I’ll still love you because a love like this is one that doesn’t falter; it’s eternal; it’s infinite.”
“God, Elle,” he whispered against my lips. “I’m so in love with you.”
Gently rolling me onto my back, Owen positioned himself over me, his hips pinning me to the mattress as he continued to kiss me tenderly—one hand still laced with mine beside my head, while the other slipped behind my neck, his thumb smoothing along the apple of my cheek causing my entire body to shiver.
Up until that point, I had been scared to admit how much I loved him.
Loving Owen came with risks. It meant giving him my heart while knowing he’d never be able to keep it safe—he’d never be able to prevent it from the heartbreak it would eventually endure. Loving him meant I was giving him the power to completely destroy me.
And, yes. Owen Caldwell was going to destroy me.
He was going to break me apart until I was nothing but a million shattered pieces.
And I was going to let him.
Reaching up, I threaded my fingers through his hair and cupped the back of his head, kissing him with everything in me. “I love you, too.”
Our tongues danced a sad waltz, and our hearts sung a sorrowful melody, and before either of us realized it, our hands were moving of their own accord, slowly removing the articles of clothing separating us. We needed this moment. We needed the closeness. We needed each other.
A slow burning need simmered low in my belly, and as Owen crawled back onto the bed after stripping off his pajama bottoms and boxers, he started at my ankle, kissing his way up to my mouth. The feeling of his soft lips and his hot skin as it pressed against mine elicited a whimpered moan from me.
With his dark green jewel-like eyes boring through mine and his strong arms surrounding me, Owen gently nudged my knees apart, and as he lowered himself and melded into my softness, I wrapped my legs around his waist. His erection lay hard against my inner thigh and the heat of him there, so close yet so far away, had my hands grabbing impatiently at his hips.
Without warning, he slid into me, and the contact, the closeness, the way he breathlessly whispered “I love you” again, but this time in my ear, overwhelmed me.
I couldn’t help it.
Tears sprung to my eyes.
Sensing something was wrong, Owen stilled, concern washing over his features. “Are you okay? What's wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shook my head, afraid any words spoken would be accompanied by a sob, but when he stared at me, unconvinced, I cleared my throat and forced out the lie. “No. I’m okay.”
I didn’t want to ruin this.
Tilting my hips upward in a silent indication for him to move, I held his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t see through my deceit.
He rocked forward, a slow and measured thrust, and when the tears fell harder down my cheeks, he stopped. “No, you’re not, Elle.” Panic filled his tone. He pulled back and I held on to him, keeping him in place. This wasn’t how this was supposed go. We were supposed to make love. We were supposed to forget about what our future held and lose ourselves in the now, and my stupid emotions were ruining it. Owen tilted his head to the side, something that looked a lot like fear swirling in his dark green pools. “Talk to me, baby. Please.”
I couldn’t ignore the pleading in his voice. “You know what, you’re right. I’m not okay.” A hiccupped sob escaped my throat, and I tried to pull air into my lungs, but to no avail. I choked and spluttered on my next words. “You’re dying, Owen, and I'm not okay.”
Owen quickly rolled off me and gathered me in his arms, the wetness of his tears mixing with my own as he kissed my forehead. “Listen to me. I need you to listen to me, okay? Do you feel this?” He pressed my hand to his chest. “My heart is beating for you, Elle. It has been from the moment you first stepped foot in my office, and even when it stops, it will still be beating for you. I’m not going anywhere just yet. I have all of this love in my heart, and I plan on spending every single second I have left giving it to you, loving you. Do you understand me?”
He had meant to somehow reassure me, calm me from my grief, but he had only amplified the pain in my heart.
Desperate for even a shred of hope, I searched his face. “Is there nothing they can do? People survive from cancer all the time, don’t they? They go through chemo and they—”
Owen shook his head, silencing me. In the sadness of his eyes, I found my answer.
I was going to lose him.
Oh God. I was going to lose him.
That rock-sized lump was back in my throat, making it impossible to breathe, and Owen’s hold on me tightened, his arms keeping together the pieces of me that were slowly on the verge of falling apart. I cried into his chest, hating that I couldn’t be stronger for him. He needed me to be strong. He lived with this unfair reality every moment of every day, and he didn’t need my tears and my upset reminding him of the life he wouldn’t be able to fully live.
“I’m sorry,” I cried, guilt clawing me from the inside out, threatening to tear me apart faster than the thought of losing him.
“Shh…” His fingers stroked through my hair, and his kisses were continuous, determined—placed with purpose over every inch of my tear-soaked skin. “Don’t cry, Elle. Please don’t cry. I can’t bear seeing your tears.”
We lay there in silence until the rise and fall of my chest evened out, and when it no longer hurt to breathe, something shifted in the air. The need to feel his love and be consumed by it had me tilting my head back so I could look in his eyes. He sensed my need before I’d even spoke, and with a featherlight touch, he dragged his fingertips over my collarbone, down the swells of my breasts where my nipples had quickly pebbled, and across my ribs. I sucked in a sharp breath at the way he lit a raging fire under my skin and how even when I was drowning in pain he knew exactly how to rescue me with pleasure.
Bringing his face closer, he traced the same path he’d just made with his fingers with his mouth, stopping at my breasts to gently kiss and suck. Heat roared through my veins, and I arched my back off the bed, moaning. Owen answered with a deep groan of his own, the ache between my thighs intensifying by the second. His mouth moved lower and lower and then completely disappeared as he readjusted himself, resuming his position between my legs. He hovered over me—his hands on either side of my head, caging me in—and stared down at me with half-hooded eyes.
“I want you to look at me, okay? I want you to keep those beautiful eyes on mine the entire time. I don’t want your mind traveling anywhere. I want it to remain right here, right in this moment. Do you think you can do that for me?”
I gave him a small insecure nod.
I could do that. For him.
“Okay. Good.” Slipping a hand beneath my thigh, he shifted me at an angle that allowed his hips to meld perfectly with mine, and holding my gaze, he slowly pushed himself inside.
I did as he’d asked. I watched through tear-filled eyes as he seated himself deep, our bodies completely flush, our hearts beating as one. I watched as he found a steady rhythm in his thrusts, his chest heaving from his movements and his skin slickened with perspiration. I watched my naked reflection dance in his gorgeous, soulful eyes and the pleasure on his face as it continued to rise. I watched as he made love to me the same way he had the first time: slowly and beautifully.
Only this time I understood why. Life and the moments in it were too fleeting to be taken for granted. They needed to be cherished. They needed to be savored. You needed to make the most of every single one before they were gone forever.
When I woke up the next morning with the spot beside me empty and Owen’s warmth not at my back, a surge of panic tightened my chest. The previous two times we had been together, he’d left, and the last time had crushed me. It wasn’t until I slipped out of bed and into one of Owen’s T-shirts, venturing down the hall and into the kitchen, that I felt an ounce of relief.
Owen stood in his pajama bottoms, his back to me and his phone pressed to his ear as he faced the stove. The smell of bacon and the sizzling sound of it cooking in a pan wafted throughout the entire space. My hungry stomach grumbled, and a smile tipped my lips as my brain finally registered why he’d disappeared.
Leaning against the doorjamb, I watched in awe as he moved around the kitchen, cooking breakfast and carrying on a conversation, without realizing I was even standing there in his presence.
“Yeah. Just cancel all of our meetings for the next three weeks. No. I don’t care. I will. Yeah. And you’ve called Eddie, right? It will be ready by five? Okay. Good. Thanks, Mill. I will. Talk to you soon.” Pulling his phone from his ear, he dropped it down on the counter. As he reached up to drag a hand through his brown hair, my gaze followed the movement, my eyes fixed on the way his muscles flexed in his shoulders and across his back.
He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. It did hurt to look at him. On the surface, he appeared to be so strong, but the sad truth was his body was failing him. His body was failing him, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to prevent it from happening.
Needing to be near him, I pushed away from the door and tiptoed over to where he stood, the cool tiles beneath my feet sending a shiver to race up the back of my calves. My hands immediately moved to his waist, and at the feel of me on his naked skin, he quickly turned in my hold, his hands sliding up my arms and my neck, stopping to cup my jaw.
A smile sparked in his eyes as they met mine. “You’re awake.”
I nodded, feeling his happiness pour into me, and the tightness constricting my chest slowly dissipated. “I was wondering where you’d wandered off to.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”
My next breath was stolen by warm lips, and my body completely melted into his. He lingered there for a few beats before pulling back a little.
“You hungry? I figured you might be starving so I decided to make breakfast. I wasn't sure what you like so I have bacon cooking. I was going to make some eggs and pancakes. Unless you’re a French toast kind of girl, then I can make—”
“No. It’s perfect…you’re…” Perfect, Owen. You're absolutely perfect. “Whatever you make is perfect.” Still in his hold, I glanced over at the clock, not even sure of the time. Nearly eleven o'clock. The morning had clearly slipped away from us. It wasn't much of a surprise given the fact we’d spent most of the night wrapped up in each other. Owen had shown me what it was like to be loved by him, and the two times after our initial session—which had been less slow and more intense—had ensured a deep night’s sleep. “Wow. We’re really late for work.”
Not sure why I’d even mentioned work. It was the least of our worries, but I think we both needed a distraction.
“Yeah, about that.” He bowed his head a little to scratch the back of it at the same time a look of nervousness cast over his expression. “I hope it’s okay, but I told Millie to clear our schedules for the next few weeks. We’re not going into work.”
“What?” Confusion sent my brows crawling up my forehead. I stared at him incredulously. “What do you mean we’re not going into work?”
“Well, I was thinking it was about time I took a small vacation and thought maybe you’d like to come with me. Was I being too presumptuous?”
A vacation? With Owen?
My brain was in the middle of painting a picture of what that might be like when Owen’s fingers swept along my forehead, brushing away unruly strands of my hair, his eyes following the same journey before connecting with mine. His throat moved on a hard swallow, another sign of vulnerability that I wasn’t used to seeing him display.
“I want to live, Elle. I want to spend every remaining second of my life living, and I want to do it with you.”
My stomach flipped.
How was a girl supposed to say no to that?