His eyes turn down. “Baby girl…”
"But you… you never started dating again."
"I did."
"When?"
He arches a brow. "Is it that implausible."
"No. I just… you've never said anything."
"You think I want you screening my dates?"
"It seems fair."
He laughs. "Maybe. But that's the perk of being the parent. You don't have to play fair." He settles into his seat. "You're right. It was the most painful thing I ever went through, losing your mother. But I wouldn't trade that for anything."
"But—"
"No. You and Gia are the best part of my life. But even if your mom and I had never had kids, if it had just been the two of us, I wouldn't give up a single day of the happiness we had to erase the pain of losing her."
I swallow hard.
"This is life, baby girl. The highs and the lows. The pain that knocks you off course and the bliss that rights your ship. Loving someone, having that time with them, it's worth anything."
"But what if I'm—"
"He knows, doesn't he?"
"Yeah."
"So why is that your decision to make?"
"I don't know." I pull a green pepper from my slice. Eat it in two bites. "I just… I want to protect him. We're new. He can get over me. Find someone else."
"You sure about that?"
"No…" If Dean really went twenty-five years locking everyone else out, it's unlikely he's going to let anyone else in.
"And what about you? Are you going to be okay without him?"
"I'll feel better knowing I'm not hurting him."
"Keeping him from loving you?"
I bite my lip.
"What if he does already?"
"No. It's been nothing."
"Do you love him?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"You must care pretty deeply to want to protect him like this."
"Maybe."
"What if your roles were reversed? If he was sick? Would you walk away to keep from hurting?"
"Of course not."
"Why not?"
"Who would do that?"
"But you'd get hurt."
"So? Life is getting hurt. You'll never experience anything good if you're afraid of getting hurt."
Dad smiles. "You took the words out of my mouth, baby girl."
Chapter Forty
Chloe
Sleep eludes me. I toss and turn. I think about tests and promises and the look on Mom's face when she told us she was dying. The way my heart broke right there, then broke into a million smaller pieces as I watched her slip away.
Grief fills my memories as moonlight flows through the curtains.
But something changes when the sun breaks the horizon.
Orange streaks across the sky.
Dad's advice starts to make sense.
The ugly memories fall back to happy ones. The way Dad held Mom after they thought me and Gia were upstairs playing. The way they whispered each other promises. I'll love you forever, baby. I'm right here no matter what. Whatever you need, even if it hurts.
The night they celebrated their wedding anniversary in the hospital, him in a fancy suit, her in a standard issue hospital gown, white and cream cupcakes on plastic plates.
That perfect day he showed her toward the end. The tea room at the botanical gardens, the lush red roses unfurling for the sun, the flowering cherry trees blowing in the wind.
That look of peace in her eyes.
I didn't understand it when I was a kid. I was angry at the universe. I still am. But she had accepted it. She wasn't hurting anymore. She was savoring every last drop of life she had.
It's not like she was lucky to get cancer. I don't give a fuck that her illness made her appreciate what time she had left. There's no universe where it was a good thing.
But there's no way I'd trade never knowing my mother for never losing her.
And there's no way Dad would change a thing, if he could do it over.
And maybe…
I don't know.
I toss and turn until my alarm clock's beep grows too annoying to ignore. I strip, shower, dress, fix my hair and makeup. Today is a combat boots and dark eyeliner kind of day. Even if every day is a combat boots and dark eyeliner kind of day.
There. Perfect. I feel like shit, but I look badass. It's something.
Downstairs, I fix tea. Hustle though a breakfast of raisin bran and milk. By the time I'm setting the dishes in the sink, it's eleven thirty. I need to get my ass in gear. To face my fate. Even if it's bad.
I pull the door open, ready to block out the world.
But the world is there.
Dean is leaning against his car, sunglasses hanging in his bright blue t-shirt, eyes on me.
The storm clouds surrounding me dissipate.
With the sun bouncing off his light hair, he's positively angelic.
Maybe that isn't wrong.
Maybe it's every kind of right.
"I've got good news and bad news." He pushes off the car and moves up the concrete pathway. "Which do you want first?"
"The bad news."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"What's the good news?"
He closes the distance between us. Until he's standing on the porch a foot away from me. "I'm not going anywhere."
My lips curl into a half-smile. "What if I want you to leave?"
"Too bad."
"You're not respecting my wishes."
"Not if this is some way to protect me." He moves closer. "If you're sick of me. If you're done with me. If you were using me for my body, sure. I'll leave. I'll follow you to the hospital and make a scene. But I'll scram eventually."
I shake my head. "I'm not done with you."
"Then you're shit out of luck, sunshine." His fingertips skim my hips. "I'm not going anywhere."
My heart thuds against my chest.
He moves closer. Until he's six inches away.
His palm rests on my hips. The other goes to my cheek.
He rubs my temple with his thumb.
He stares into my eyes like I'm everything he needs.
God, those deep blue eyes…
I can't let him stay but I can't tell him to leave either.
"Dean." My eyelids flutter together. My head falls to one side. Into his palm. God, his touch feels good. Like everything I want. "You should go now. You should get out before you fall in love with me."
"Too late."
My heart thuds against my chest. I reach for a response, but my mouth is too sticky.
"I'm crazy in love with you."
"But it's barely been a month."
"I know. But I am." He slides his arm around me. Presses his palm into my lower back to pull my body into his. "It's okay if you don't feel it yet. Or if you're not ready to say it. But you gotta know I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. Whether you're sick or well or something in between."
"But…"
"No buts, sunshine. This is where I want to be."
"But…" It's the only response I have. My urge to protect him overwhelms everything else. Even that greedy part of me that wants his comfort. His affection. His love.
He loves me.
When I stare up into his eyes, I believe it.
I know it everywhere.
"I…" I suck a breath through my teeth. His touch feels too good. It's drowning out my senses. "I don't know if I can do this to you."
"You're not doing it to me. I love you, whether you want me around or not. And, fuck, if you are sick, I'll never forgive myself for missing a second."
"But…"
His voice is strong. Sure. "I'll never forgive myself for letting you suffer alone. So, if you're doing this for me, trust me. This is what I want."
"Dean…"
"Let me finish this, sunshine." He pulls my body into his. "I've spent my entire life avoiding connections because I was afraid of getting hurt. I'm not doing it again. Not when I've found the person who completes me."
Every part of me goes warm at once. It's cheesy. It's wrong for him. It's perfect. "Did you really just say that?"
"Yeah. No. Let me correct that. Fuck yeah."
I can't help but smile. "It was super cheesy."
"I know. But it was true." He stares down at me with every ounce of love and affection in the world.
It's there, in his eyes.
There's no way I'll convince him to leave.
And there's no universe where I should.
If things were reversed, if he was the one who might be sick…
There's no way that would scare me off. There's no way I would let go of what I have.
Fuck. It is just like A Walk to Remember.
I am a cheesy Nicholas Sparks movie.