I couldn’t forget the cocky look on his face, the way the wind played with his hair, or how just having him by my side gave me the kind of confidence I’d never felt before.
When I was twenty, my mom passed away. The grief hit me so hard that I lost touch with reality for a while. But Darell… he stayed calm, handled everything, and never left my side. Over and over again, he whispered, “I’ll always be here for you. You can rely on me. As long as I’m around, you have nothing to be afraid of.”
He was with me for ten years. The happiest, most peaceful ten years of my life.
So, of course, I wanted to say yes.
But that was the day after I got the diagnosis.
Brain cancer. Terminal. Almost no chance of recovery.
So instead of saying yes, I took the letter from him, and in front of all our friends, I slowly tore it to shreds and threw the pieces in his face.
I forced myself to hold back the tears, to keep my voice from cracking as I said, “Darell, you make me sick! Acting all sweet and noble—what, you think you can feed me just to bleed me dry later? You’re disgusting! My mom would never forgive you, not even in the afterlife.”