whether you want them or not, are important.”
She marched out of the living room and toward the bedroom. I heard the door slam shut. I kicked my feet off the couch. My hands rested on my knees as I stared at the folder in front of me. Her funeral arrangements? She had planned her funeral and expected me to be okay with this? I just got her back. I’d forced myself into her life and made her fight to live for our family.
I peeled open the folder. On top was the contract with the funeral home. Unable to look at it, I slammed the folder shut.
In the past week, I’d become a very religious man. When I had no one else to turn to, I bowed my head and prayed. It was something that I had never done before. This was one of those times I reached to Him.
“Please, God, don't let me lose her,” I whispered. “This world needs her. Lyra needs her mother. And I need her. Please, I'm begging you to let her get through this.”
I sat in that position for a few minutes. I heard Emilia close Lyra’s door and then head over to her bedroom, so I got up and walked toward her room. I pushed the door open without knocking. Emilia had her eyes shut when I walked in, the only light from the nightstand lamp.
I needed to be close to her, so, discarding my T–shirt, I crawled into bed with her. Her body faced mine. Her eyes were closed peacefully, her hand tucked under her chin, making her look angelic. I gently rested my hand on her shoulder and she rolled over, turning back to me. I laced my fingers around her stomach and pulled her flush against my body. She fit perfectly.
“I can see Lyra gets her fake sleep look from you,” I whispered into the crook of her neck.
“I am sleeping.”
“I don't want to fight.” I inhaled the scent from her hair.
“I'm not fighting. But you need to have those documents. You don't—”
“Shh…” I kissed her neck. “You're right, I know. I'll put them away, but I don't want to talk about them.”
She turned back toward me and lay her head on my chest. Her words were barely a whisper, “I’m scared.”
“There’s no need to be scared. I’m right here to protect you.”
My body tightened. I needed to be strong for her but it was getting harder. That was the thing with cancer . . .
You were always scared.
----
E milia was strong , stronger than me on most days. She carried a smile on her face and I never heard her cry.
Not until the night before she started chemo.
I gently tapped the door to her bedroom. She sat on her bed, staring out the window. Her room looked out onto the ocean, just like her favorite spot on the beach. With the windows wide open, she had the ocean at her feet. It was rare for her to stare into nowhere with worry lines on her face. She always looked out into the ocean with such happiness. Quickly, she brushed the tears from her cheeks.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I walked into her room.
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t move from her seat.
She lowered her head as I approached, her fingers coiled together. I knelt down on the floor next to her, grasped her hands in mine and peered up at her. “Em, talk to me.”
She closed her eyes and tears dripped down her cheeks. “I'm scared,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling with fear. “I don’t know how to feel anything but scared.”
I grabbed her hands tighter. I willed my body to pull any strength I had and give it to her. “Everything's going to be okay.” I brought her hands to my lips and kissed each of her knuckles. “You hear me?” I lifted her chin.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. The look that reflected back at me scared me deep down into my soul. It was a look she had never given me before. She was broken, terrified, and I didn't know how to protect her. I didn't know how to take the pain away from her.
I cleared my throat. “It's normal to be scared. It's normal to worry. Just know that I'm right here with you and I will be with you every step of the way. We caught it early and the
She marched out of the living room and toward the bedroom. I heard the door slam shut. I kicked my feet off the couch. My hands rested on my knees as I stared at the folder in front of me. Her funeral arrangements? She had planned her funeral and expected me to be okay with this? I just got her back. I’d forced myself into her life and made her fight to live for our family.
I peeled open the folder. On top was the contract with the funeral home. Unable to look at it, I slammed the folder shut.
In the past week, I’d become a very religious man. When I had no one else to turn to, I bowed my head and prayed. It was something that I had never done before. This was one of those times I reached to Him.
“Please, God, don't let me lose her,” I whispered. “This world needs her. Lyra needs her mother. And I need her. Please, I'm begging you to let her get through this.”
I sat in that position for a few minutes. I heard Emilia close Lyra’s door and then head over to her bedroom, so I got up and walked toward her room. I pushed the door open without knocking. Emilia had her eyes shut when I walked in, the only light from the nightstand lamp.
I needed to be close to her, so, discarding my T–shirt, I crawled into bed with her. Her body faced mine. Her eyes were closed peacefully, her hand tucked under her chin, making her look angelic. I gently rested my hand on her shoulder and she rolled over, turning back to me. I laced my fingers around her stomach and pulled her flush against my body. She fit perfectly.
“I can see Lyra gets her fake sleep look from you,” I whispered into the crook of her neck.
“I am sleeping.”
“I don't want to fight.” I inhaled the scent from her hair.
“I'm not fighting. But you need to have those documents. You don't—”
“Shh…” I kissed her neck. “You're right, I know. I'll put them away, but I don't want to talk about them.”
She turned back toward me and lay her head on my chest. Her words were barely a whisper, “I’m scared.”
“There’s no need to be scared. I’m right here to protect you.”
My body tightened. I needed to be strong for her but it was getting harder. That was the thing with cancer . . .
You were always scared.
----
E milia was strong , stronger than me on most days. She carried a smile on her face and I never heard her cry.
Not until the night before she started chemo.
I gently tapped the door to her bedroom. She sat on her bed, staring out the window. Her room looked out onto the ocean, just like her favorite spot on the beach. With the windows wide open, she had the ocean at her feet. It was rare for her to stare into nowhere with worry lines on her face. She always looked out into the ocean with such happiness. Quickly, she brushed the tears from her cheeks.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I walked into her room.
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t move from her seat.
She lowered her head as I approached, her fingers coiled together. I knelt down on the floor next to her, grasped her hands in mine and peered up at her. “Em, talk to me.”
She closed her eyes and tears dripped down her cheeks. “I'm scared,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling with fear. “I don’t know how to feel anything but scared.”
I grabbed her hands tighter. I willed my body to pull any strength I had and give it to her. “Everything's going to be okay.” I brought her hands to my lips and kissed each of her knuckles. “You hear me?” I lifted her chin.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. The look that reflected back at me scared me deep down into my soul. It was a look she had never given me before. She was broken, terrified, and I didn't know how to protect her. I didn't know how to take the pain away from her.
I cleared my throat. “It's normal to be scared. It's normal to worry. Just know that I'm right here with you and I will be with you every step of the way. We caught it early and the
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