The smile drops off Harry’s face. “Look, you know I think we should try to get another opinion. Maybe there’s a doctor who could—”
“No.” I give him a sharp look. “I don’t want that.”
If I only have six months left, I want to enjoy the six months. I don’t want to spend it getting chemotherapy. I don’t want to spend it throwing up with my hair falling out. And I definitely don’t want to spend it in the hospital with needles sticking out of my arm.
I want to enjoy it on a beach with the love of my life,sipping margaritas. As long as I can.
“It’s your decision, Tess,” Harry says quietly. “Whatever you want, I’ll support you.”
“Right, but…” I shake my head. “You need to know what’s coming. The end… It could get bad.”
“I know.”
“Reallybad.”
“Iknow. And I’ll be there.”
“I don’t think you really know…”
Harry grabs my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. “I never thought I was going to get you back. Whatever happens from now on, I’m going to be there. I’m going to make the time we have together the best time of your life. No matter what.”
He kisses me again. At this moment, I don’t feel like I’m dying. I feelhappy. I’m so glad I get to spend this time with him. I’m so glad I found him a month ago.
When he pulls away, I trace my finger along the curve of his collarbone. “I wonder why I did it.”
“Did what?”
“Why I found you.” I raise my eyes to meet his. “After all that time, why did I suddenly start looking for you a month ago?”
A lot of my memories have come back to me, but not that one. There was a reason I started looking for him. I had been living this way for over a year, but all of a sudden, one day I decided to find Harry. Why?
The memory is there. Just beneath the surface. Sometimes I almost feel like I could catch it, but then it escapes me.
“Does it matter?” he asks. “We found each other again. That asshole Graham is out of your life. That’s all that’s important.”
He’s right, of course. But it still bothers me. There must’ve been a reason I tried to find Harry. It’s there, buried somewhere in the recesses of my tumor-ridden brain. Will I ever remember? I don’t know. As I get sicker, the memories may fade altogether.
I lean against Harry’s shoulder, sinking into his warm body. And all of a sudden, I get a flashback. A memory of sitting next to Graham in a doctor’s office. It feels so real—from the smell of antiseptic to the doctor’s royal blue tie. I sense this is an important memory, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to capture it. But I can’t. It lingers there, just below the surface.
But I’ll remember it eventually. I know I will.
Epilogue
ONE MONTH EARLIER
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This can’t be right.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
Dr. Wang nods. He is a middle-aged Asian man with white threading through his black hair, wearing a royal blue tie. I just met him today. No, actually, I’ve met him many times before. He’s my neuro-oncologist—a doctor who deals with brain cancer. But considering I woke up this morning unable to remember much of the last several years, it feels like I just met him today.
“I’m very serious, Mrs. Thurman.” He folds his arms in front of him. “The MRI of your brain not only showed no growth of the tumor, but the tumor burden wassignificantlyreduced following the chemotherapy. We thought you weren’t responding, but apparently, we were wrong.”
Graham told me my diagnosis this morning. It was hard to hear. He said he only told me because we had to go to this appointment together, but after today, I wouldn’t have to remember ever again.
And then we hearthis.
I look over at Graham, who is sitting in this chair beside me. His jaw looks like it’s about to become unhinged. “How can that be?” he asks. “You said this wasterminal. You told me when we got the diagnosis that she had a year to live.”
