Chapter 2
I stood there in the doorway.
Staring at her.
I couldn't speak.
I couldn't breathe.
Cara was here.
Actually here.
After ten years.
"Can I come in?" she asked softly.
I stepped aside.
My legs were shaking.
She walked into my house.
Into the life I'd built without her.
She looked around.
Her eyes paused on the empty side of the closet, visible through the bedroom door I'd left open.
"You kept it," she whispered.
I nodded.
I still couldn't speak.
She sat down on the couch.
She moved slowly.
Carefully.
Like every movement hurt.
"I know you have questions," she said.
"Questions?" I finally found my voice. "I have ten years of questions, Cara. Where did you go? Why did you leave? Why now?"
She looked down at her hands.
They were trembling.
"I'm sick, Ethan," she said. "Terminally ill. The doctors say I have days left. Maybe a week at most."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"No," I said. "That's not possible. You're here. You're alive."
She gave me a sad smile.
"I'm dying," she said. "And before I go, I have one final wish."
She reached across the couch and took my hand.
Her hand was cold.
Thin.
Bony.
"I want to marry you," she said.
I stared at her.
"Marry you?"
"I know it's a lot to ask," she said. "After everything I did. After disappearing for ten years. But I don't have much time. And I've regretted every single day I spent away from you. I want to spend my last days as your wife. I want to know what it feels like, even if it's only for a little while."
"Why me?" I asked. "Why come back to me after all this time? Why not someone else? Why now?"
She didn't answer.
She only gave me that soft, bittersweet laugh I remembered so well.
And she squeezed my hand.
"Please, Ethan," she whispered. "It's my dying wish."
I looked at her.
This woman I'd never stopped loving.
This woman who'd broken my heart into a million pieces.
This woman who was dying.
And I couldn't say no.
"Okay," I said.
Two days later, we were married.
It was a quiet ceremony at the courthouse.
Just the two of us and a judge.
Cara wore a simple white dress she'd bought that morning.
She was weak.
I had to help her stand.
But when the judge pronounced us husband and wife, she smiled.
And for a moment, she looked like the girl I'd fallen in love with in college.
Vibrant.
Beautiful.
Alive.
I carried her back to the car.
I carried her into the house.
I made her favorite foods.
I read to her.
I held her while she slept.
We talked about everything and nothing.
We talked about college.
About the rainy day we met.
About the stupid fight that had been our last conversation for ten years.
But she never told me why she'd left.
Every time I asked, she'd change the subject.
Or she'd just smile sadly and squeeze my hand.
"Don't ruin our time together with the past," she'd say.
So I didn't push.
I just held her.
And for five days, I was the happiest man alive.
I had my Cara back.
Even if it was only for a little while.
On the fifth night, she fell asleep in my arms.
She was breathing softly.
Her head on my chest.
I kissed her forehead.
"I love you," I whispered.
She didn't wake up.
Cara died peacefully in her sleep.
Just like she'd said she would.
I held her for hours.
I didn't call anyone.
I just held my wife.
And I cried.
The funeral was small.
A few people I didn't recognize.
An older couple who must have been her parents.
They didn't speak to me.
They just stared at me with sad, guilty eyes.
The casket was being lowered into the ground.
I felt like I was going to throw up.
And then I saw her.
A woman dressed in black.
Standing behind the crowd.
I'd never seen her before.
She walked straight toward me.
She didn't say a word.
She just pressed an envelope into my hand.
Then she leaned closer.
And looked directly into my eyes.
May you like
"She wasn't ready to tell you why she really came back," she whispered.
"Now she has nothing to fear."
