“It’s labeled for pathology?”

“Yes, Dr. Moser.”

“I want a rush on it. I don’t want to wait longer than absolutely necessary for the results.”

“They’re waiting on the mass, sir. We’ll get it right to them.”

“Do you want me to begin to close the flap?”

“Not quite yet. We have to perform the motor tests.”

It’s almost 2:45 and we haven’t heard anything new. My phone hasn’t buzzed. I’m going to tear the hospital down until I find her OR suite soon.

Everyone has taken a quick break outside the room. Cass, Caleb, Keene, and Ali stepped outside to FaceTime their children, who Ava agreed to pick up and keep at the main farmhouse until at least one of them could get home later. Matt would be going over to help her.

Holly and Charlie are walking around the grounds with Phil and Jason.

And Em is somewhere, getting more drinks, I think. To be honest, I really don’t care. I have the room to myself for the first time since very early this morning.

My grandfather called a few minutes ago, expecting we’d have heard more definitively from the surgical suite by now. He couldn’t entirely conceal the concern lacing his voice when I said we were still waiting, and ordered me to call back as soon as I knew anything before hanging up. As much as the little boy in me wishes he could be here, I can’t fault him for not offering. I know he took a considerable risk by showing up last night to provide us with his support. If he’d stayed, news broadcasters would be waiting for us when we stepped outside the front doors.

I’m just hoping we have the chance to make up for the missing years. Somehow, deep in my soul, I know if Corinna doesn’t make it, there will be nothing left of me. My heart’s beating only because hers is.

Maybe I need to take a page out of Corinna’s book and write my grandfather a letter letting him know that. Letting him know that if something happens to Corinna, my heart will never be the same. I will never be the same. It will be the end of me and not because I gave up, but because how does your heart continue to beat when your soul is so gone? It’s crucial for him to know I’ll never be the same again if she’s gone.

Over the course of the day, I’ve put together the pieces of the cards and notes she’s left me.

She thinks she’s going to die.

Pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes, I feel my stoicism crack, and misery floods every available space. The sounds coming out of me when I finally cut loose are wretched. Deep from the bottom of my soul, I howl my rage. How could she love me and expect to leave me at the same time as telling me she’s fighting for me?

“Because it offers her an ability not to break, Colby.” An unfamiliar feminine voice answers the words I didn’t know I said out loud.

I face the doorway and see a middle-aged woman wearing a comfortable sweater and jeans. “Who the hell are you?” I rasp, not the least bit embarrassed by the tears on my face.

The woman steps forward and offers her hand. “I’m Alice Cleary, Corinna’s psychologist.”

I’m taken aback. “You’re Alice?” I ask dumbly, even as I take her hand.

And then I smell something familiar. Chocolate caramel goodness.

“Do you know I was expecting to come down here and club you in the head so I could steal what’s in this package and run?” Alice jokes as she hands me a familiar white box.

I gape at her, then roar with laughter. “She swore I’d be eating store-bought cookies while she’s in recovery.”

Alice’s laugh is like an ancient car coughing to life—rusty, and in need of some oil. “Of course she did.” Nodding at the box, she asks, “Are you planning on sharing while you tell me what’s wrong?”

Before I can open my box, my cell alarm goes off. 2:00 PM. Alice is bringing you your next card. There isn’t one for the family. I suspect the brownies will be enough. Love, Corinna

Showing Alice the text, I explain, “This is what’s been getting me through the day, until about twenty minutes ago.”

“What changed?” Alice asks as she sits.

I shake my head as I open the box. Inside is a card. Ignoring the overwhelming scent permeating the room, I open it.

Colby,

I know you too well, so stop being pissed. You’re thinking the wrong way. (I should have Keene slap you upside the head, but I figure you having to fight to hold on to your brownies is punishment enough.) Controlling today and telling you all how much I love you isn’t about giving up.

It’s about being thankful.

I’ve been introspective in the last few weeks. What would have happened to me if I never found Ali and Holly? Cass, Em, and Phil? Charlie? Caleb? Keene? You? I’d have died in my soul long before the tumor had any chance at me.

This was the best way I could think of to keep you all going and to finally get a chance to show my gratefulness by making you all laugh, making you smile, and holding you close in the place that’s the most important—my heart.

I’m in the other room fighting for our lives - the family’s for sure, but most especially yours and mine.

We’re so close to the finish, baby.

You’ll get to hold me soon, and I. Can’t. Wait.

I love you,

Corinna

My arms drop to my knees, and my head falls in between them as I clutch her letter in one hand. “God, baby, I love you too. Keep fighting.”

I’d forgotten Alice was in the room until she says, “I know she will, Colby. She has more fire in her than half of the patients I see.”

My head snaps up. Alice smiles. “I see she took my advice to get her life under control.” She nods at the letter in my hand.

Suddenly, I can’t talk fast enough. “All day. Every hour or so. It’s like just as I was sinking, she knew how to bring me back up.”

Standing, Alice tells me, “People with huge social support go into surgery with less anxiety and depression. Their odds are better than those who don’t have that backup in their lives, Colby. Corinna already had a much better chance because she’s so remarkable. Everyone gravitates to her.”

I need to tell Alice what Corinna didn’t know for sure when they met. “I’m crazy in love with her.”

Alice grins. “There’s nothing crazy about love when it’s the right person.”

I smile, my first genuine one all day. I’m about to reply when the door opens.

It’s Bryan. Dr. Moser’s take-charge persona has been left in the surgical suite it seems.

And my anxiety slams back into me, freezing me in place.

“Alice.” He nods at the psychologist. “Colby. Where’s the rest of the family?”

I swallow hard to clear the vomit hovering in the back of my throat, waiting to expel itself. “Around. They’re around.”

He nods, exhausted. “Let’s get them up here. I’ll go over everything.”

I reach in my pocket for the phone. “Bryan, can you tell me…” I can’t ask. I’m petrified to know the answer.

He drops himself into a chair. Scrubbing his hands harshly over his face, he looks up at me wearily before a huge smile breaks out. “She’s alive. The whole fucking tumor is gone. Now, text the family and give me a goddamned brownie.”

I shove the box over at him as I collapse into Alice’s waiting arms, crying. It takes a few minutes before I can compose myself enough to walk around the table and grab him up from his seat. Slapping him on the back several times, I start to express my gratitude but stop because the words won’t come out.

Soon I’ve texted the family, and they’ve raced back in. We’re a mess of tearful, hugging, and kissing lunatics. But I can’t say my eyebrows aren’t the only ones that don’t shoot up to the top of my head when Dr. Bryan Moser grabs Em by the waist and lays a kiss on her that expressly says he’s interested in more than gratitude from the willowy blonde.

When he lets her up for air, she gazes up at him for just a moment before pushing up her glasses. In pure Em style, she mutters, “Holy hell.”

Bryan laughs.

I grin right before asking, “How long till I can see Corinna?”

Bryan comes over and clasps my hand. “Another few hours. I’ll send someone down to bring you up. I don’t want everyone in tonight to confuse her, but I know you’ll want in there. In the meantime”—he reaches over and swipes another brownie and eyes Em up and down—“I need to finish some paperwork. I’ll see you all soon.”

Bryan leaves the room, and Phil pounces on his sister like a lion with raw meat. “Well, well, well.”

Em tries to ward him off. “That was as much of a surprise to me as it is to you!” she exclaims.

Leaving the Freemans to fight it out, I turn to Alice. “Thank you,” I say with the utmost sincerity.

“It’s been my pleasure, Colby. Take care of her.”

I plan to. For the rest of our lives. Which I can now begin to plan beyond today.