Part 28 (1/2)

We keep walking toward the edge of the earth. Neither of us share words. Both of us in our own thoughts. My mind on where we'll go from here. Something tells me her mind is on the same.

Rene breaks the silence. ”Will you make love to me?”

That wasn't what I was expecting, but I nod. She drops the sand, dusts the remnants off on her dress. I slip out of my shoes, put my keys and wallet inside, toss my socks on top. I grab her hand and lead us to the water.

My wife kisses me with so much pa.s.sion. It's a kiss she never wants me to forget. I slide my tongue in her mouth where it remains as we tread deeper into the warm salt.w.a.ter. She wraps her legs around my waist. I enter her ever so slow, scared I'm going to hurt her, but also because I want to make this moment last until the end of time.

It's a little difficult loving my wife the way I'd like because my feet have no footing. I kick backward a little until I feel firm sand under my feet. ”Better?” I ask.

She nods.

”I never stopped loving you,” I say as I hold her close to me.

”I know.” She holds my face in her hands, plants tender kisses all over my face, stopping momentarily on my lips. ”I didn't make it easy.”

”You were scared.”

”That's no excuse.”

I make love to my wife slow, give her the utmost affection. Whether she told me or not, this is the woman I chose to marry in sickness and health. She's all I've ever wanted. She's always been enough for me. With each stroke, I apologize for giving up so soon, for packing up and moving out of the home we shared together. I apologize for stepping into the arms of another woman for comfort. ”I'm sorry, Rene.”

I know this is the last time I'll ever be inside her. It's hard not to think about that as she moans in my ear. Moans I'll never hear again.

”It'll be okay, Brandon. You'll be okay,” she says, reading my thoughts.

It's not what I want to hear. In ways, I don't want to be okay, don't want to get over our love nor do I want to love someone new.

Rene turns my face to hers, makes me look her in the eyes. ”I forgive you and I need you to forgive me.”

Deep in my heart, I know she was doing what was best for her. Selfishness and wanting to hold on to the anger would be the only reasons I wouldn't be able to forgive her. I don't know what it's like to watch close family members die. Nor do I know what it feels like to know you're about to die. I can't let her leave this life knowing I couldn't forgive her, or myself for that matter.

”I forgive you,” I whisper against her ear.

She hugs me for what feels like two eternities. When she lets me go, she walks out of the water. For a moment, she stops in her footsteps, but doesn't turn around. She puts one foot in front of the other and walks toward the sunset.

A hand grasps my shoulder. I jerk to look behind me, realize I'm not in the ocean, not at the beach. Not in Destin. I wipe the fog from my eyes to see my brother in a wheelchair in front of me. My parents behind him. ”I must've drifted off.”

I get up from the chair to stand by Rene's side. The dream felt so real. She's still tucked under the covers, her face a look of peace. Bear's no longer clutched to her chest, though.

Andrew hands me the noseless bear. ”She's gone.”

53.

SYDNEY.

My heart stops the moment I step back through the doors of ICU and hear a long high-pitched beep. It's the beep you hear in movies when someone's flatlined.

I rush to Eric's room with my hand pressed into my chest. The beep on his heart monitor is steady. He's still in the land of the living. I left his room a couple of hours ago after he fell asleep on me before my confession rolled from my lips. It takes a few moments before my heart calms down to a light pound against my chest. That was a close call.

The clock above my husband's bed reads close to midnight. I walk over to the blinds to close them, give us some privacy. As I get ready to close the door, my heart's pace picks back up as I see a nurse placing a sheet over a patient across the hall. Bent over the bed is Brandon. I can't take my eyes away.

Rene. Guess that's where the beep of death came from.

Oh. My. G.o.d.

Just a few hours ago, not only was I trying to have s.e.x with her husband in a public restroom, everything in me at this very moment wants to run across the hall and stand by Brandon's side. Hold his hand, tell him everything's going to be all right. What kind of woman am I? My husband is lying in a hospital bed himself and needs me here by his side. What kind of wife am I?

The doctor and nurse walk out of Rene's room. Mr. Carter is pushed out by an older-looking version of himself. An older woman behind them. Everyone leaves a husband to spend the final moments with his wife.

”Why are you crying?”

As I'm watching someone else's husband, my husband's watching me. I wipe my face with the sleeves of my s.h.i.+rt, close the door. Turn to face him, hoping he can't see my tears in the dark. ”I'm not.”

”Thought you were done lying.”

I don't say anything. What is there to say anyway? The truth's hanging in the air.

”Who's Brandon?” he asks.

My right leg goes weak, causes me to lose my balance. ”Huh?”

”You said, 'I'm so sorry, Brandon.' Who is he?”

Right then, right there in front of my husband, I have a breakdown. Tears consume me like flames from a cigarette flicked in a puddle of gasoline. I fall to the floor and bawl worse than my five-year-old son when he's told no. I cry for my selfishness. Cry because I've involved two innocent, hurt men into my misery. Two men who deserved so much better than what I had to give. Two men who came to me because the women they loved chose not to love them anymore. I became their backup plan, and for my own selfish reasons, that was okay with me. In the end, everyone still hurts. Including me.

54.

BRANDON.

Today I lay my wife to rest.

The past few days have been the hardest days of my life, but they have no comparison to today. No matter how much I try, saying goodbye to my wife is the last thing I want to do. Rene handled every detail of her funeral before she left. There's no way I would've been able to make any arrangements. Doing so would have felt so final. I guess it is. I'll never know how she was able to do it.

Rene is gone.

I'll never feel her love again. Never feel her lips pressed against mine again.

I tried to tell myself I had lost her years ago. Tried my hardest to believe that lie. It was a temporary salve to a deep wound that never quite penetrated.