What's Left of Me
Page 67

 Amanda Maxlyn

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“I’ll wait, Aundrea. I’m here when you’re ready to talk to me.”
Eventually, he takes the spot next to me on the bed, never letting go of my hand. I feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to speak.
I search for the words to explain everything, but I can’t even form a coherent sentence in my brain. I don’t know where or how to start. Instead of trying to think of what to say, I just start to speak.
I open up.
I let him in.
“There are times I feel defenseless. Like there is nothing I can do, no matter how many walls I build. My cancer always finds a way back in. It’s changed me, and sometimes I’m not sure if it’s made me stronger or weaker. I know I’m not perfect. I can be moody, and Lord knows I can be emotional. I have flaws that I’m not proud of. Some that are because of my cancer, and others that are just me. I lack confidence when it comes to being seen in public, looking like someone I don’t even recognize, with or without a wig. You’re the first person who has made me feel beautiful, like I can be and do anything I want. And, more than anything, I’m scared that you’ll never be able to go back and see me that way.”
He turns so that he’s looking at me. “I don’t see you as anyone but you, Aundrea.”
“You say that now, but I’ve seen what having cancer can do to the people around me. To the people I love. It destroys them. It causes them nothing but pain, and they have to plan their life around me and my treatments. All I’ve wanted to do is protect you in the only way I knew how. Leaving you out of it for as long as I could.”
“Like I’ve told you before, I want to know everything about you, Aundrea. That means the good and the bad.”
“I know … but you have to understand that, for the first time in my life I had someone who saw the person, not the cancer. I was, and still am, afraid that you’ll realize being with someone who has cancer is more than you can handle. I mean, why would you be with someone who doesn’t even know if they’ll be here five years from now when you could be with someone who is healthy and has a long life ahead of them?”
“You’re the only woman I want, Aundrea. I don’t want anyone else. I could have been there with you.” His voice cracks as he forms his words, and I can see the moisture forming in his eyes.
“I’m sorry …”
“Me too.”
When he doesn’t say anything further, I continue, “I couldn’t think about starting a relationship with anyone while going through treatment. I mean, how fair would it be for you to also take care of your sick girlfriend? You say you don’t want anyone else, but what about when I’m so weak I can barely get out of bed for days and I can’t keep anything down because I’m so sick? Or when the pain is so unbearable I can’t walk? I’m falling in love with you, Parker, and I want you to be able to love me and accept me with or without cancer. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be able to see who I am behind the wigs and the pale skin. Most importantly, I want you to see past the illness that consumes me, and see the woman sitting before you. I want to be able to continue on with you like before. I want you to treat and love me as if I’m not some sick girl who people think is fragile.”
“You’re falling in love with me?”
“Yes.” My voice cracks. “I’m in love with you, Parker.”
Parker pulls me into him, engulfing me. He kisses my head, my cheek, my eyes, and lastly my lips.
More tears fall. I never thought of myself as one of those women. The type who get all sappy when a man says they love them, or vice versa, but now I understand why they do, because it’s in this moment that I know I’ve found the person I was meant to be with.
“I want all of you, Aundrea. Everything and anything that you will give me. I want it all. I want to be your legs when you can’t walk. I want to be your arms when you’re too weak to eat. I want to be there for you day and night. But never again are you to withhold information from me. Ever.”
I just nod multiple times at him because I can’t form any words around the swelling in my throat. I don’t think I’ve ever cried this much in my life. Not even when I was diagnosed with cancer, or the two times it came back. I cry freely as Parker pulls me onto the floor and into his lap. I kiss him like I’ve never been kissed. I kiss him like I will never love or need anyone else. I put everything I have into him and don’t pull away.
When his tongue brushes lightly against mine, I pull him tighter against me. I can’t get close enough to him, no matter how hard I try.
He deepens the kiss further as his hands move to my lower back and mine wrap firmly around his neck. He moves to a more comfortable position on the floor, taking me with him so that I’m straddling his lap. Stopping the kiss, he just holds me while I cry.
Parker eventually pulls me onto the bed so that we’re lying on our sides, facing each other. He brings his hand up to my head where the bandanna wrap is and starts to pull on it gently, trying to take it off. I instantly move to stop him.
“Please,” is all he says.
The only people who have ever seen me without hair are my parents, Genna, Jason, and Jean. No one else. It’s a huge step to allow someone else into this insecurity of mine.
I take my hands off of his and allow him to push the wrap backward onto the bed. He leans forward, trailing kisses over my eyes, forehead and lastly all over my bald head. Again, I feel like a completely different person as the tears start to flow down my cheeks for the millionth time tonight. With a loud sigh, I smile as Parker continues to trail the kisses down the side of my face, kissing away the tear tracks.