“There’s Something I Have to Show You”
Later that night, in the honeymoon suite the hotel had upgraded us to because my aunt cried at the desk, Jake carried our bags inside like some dorky movie husband.
He kicked the door shut with his foot and grinned at me.
“Welcome to forever, Mrs. Harper,” he announced, like a game show host.
I laughed and dropped my bouquet on the desk.
“Forever, huh,” I said, kicking off my shoes.
The grin slipped from his face like someone had turned down the brightness on him.
“Harper,” he said slowly, “there’s something I have to show you.”
His hands shook as he set the bags down.
Every cheesy movie and awful story I’d ever heard flashed through my mind.
I felt my stomach drop.
“Show me,” I repeated, my voice thinner than I meant it to be.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small white envelope with my name written on the front in his messy block letters.
My heart started pounding in my ears.
“Jake, what is that?”
“I got this today,” he whispered, and his eyes were shining in a way that had nothing to do with happiness.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
He pressed the envelope into my hand and stepped back like he was bracing for impact.
My fingers didn’t want to cooperate.
I opened the flap, pulled out a stack of papers, and saw the words that made the room tilt.
Oncology.
Biopsy.
Malignant.
Aggressive.
Stage four.
The letters blurred; my breath went somewhere far away.
“Jake,” I managed, my throat burning, “what is this?”
He sank down onto the edge of the bed like his legs had given out.
“I have cancer,” he said, and somehow the word sounded smaller coming from him than it had on the page.
I sat down, too, because the floor didn’t feel safe anymore.
Continue reading on the next page 👇
