I sat up in my tree later that night watching the stars. I had left Nick inside asleep to escape to my place. I simply watched the stars, the way they shine, the constellations they formed, the way they never seemed to fade away.
It was nearly two o’clock in the morning by then and one thought drifted into my mind as I watched the stars above. A thought I believed I would never get the chance to think again.
“It’s my birthday,” I whispered to the night sky.
My birthday, I was twenty years old. I had lived two beautiful, wondrous decades. After finding out about my tumor I had stopped believing I would ever see this day. Twenty. It was a miracle, a gift, and it was a secret.
No one knew it was my day. I hadn’t thought about it for so long that it hadn’t occurred to me to tell anyone. Since my family was no longer speaking to me since my marriage I didn’t even have them.
I thought about telling Nick, but would that cause more problems? Would the celebration of my birth only remind him I wanted to celebrate the birth of our child?
I closed my eyes to let my thoughts drifted and when I hoped them again I looked towards my home. I stared at the house Nick had brought me to and I noticed a dim light in the window of our bedroom that hadn’t been on before.
Nick was awake. He was awake but he hadn’t come running from the house terrified that I was missing so he must have figured out where I was.
I wondered what he was doing in the middle of the night with that single light on but I made no attempt to go find out. He needed time just as much as I did. That was life. Everyone needed moments when they were the only one. I watched the light and wondered if he would change after I died.
It was my birthday. If I told him that now would he forever mourn this day for years to come? Or would he always celebrate it the way I wanted to?
I had made a lot of choices after finding out I was going to die. Choices that would never let me doubt or second-guess or hesitate in doing anything else in my life. But since meeting Nick and falling in love I was finding out that those things I swore to never do again were occurring more and more often.
The day I turned nineteen I was in New Orleans and I spent the entire day dancing and singing and treasuring the day like it was the last one I was going to live. Now I was twenty and some part of me just wanted the day over with.
I gripped the tree branch and slowly made my way out of the tree. Silently, I walked back to the house and upstairs where the light had been shining. Slipping into the room we called ours I saw him drawing by the window.
I peeked over his shoulder to see he had drawn me in the moon and starlight in my tree outside.
“You have a talent beyond words, sunshine,” I whispered so I didn’t scare him.
He turned and smiled up at me. “It’s all in my subject, goldie locks. What were you doing out there so late?” he asked, holding his hand out to me and pulling me into his lap.
“Thinking,” I answered vaguely
“About?” he urged.
“My birthday, how I never expected to see it or celebrate it again. I was thinking about how this whole year has changed so many things about me, about the woman I will be remembered as. And I was thinking about how I want you to be able to tell our son that his mother’s final birthday was the most wonderful one she ever had,” I added, watching his eyes for any sign that he had changed his mind about his earlier decision.
“When’s your birthday?” he asked, avoiding the mention of our child.
“Today,” I admitted, my heart heavy with the knowledge that he stood his ground.
“Today as in the day we are approaching or today or as in one that we just finished?”
“The one we are beginning.”
“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, kissing me. “What do you want for you birthday?”
“A baby, Nick. I want a baby,” I pleaded.
“Why are you doing this, Riley? Why are you pushing this so much when I’ve told you I don’t want kids?” he asked, standing and pushing me away.
“Because I know it’s not true,” I yelled, losing my control.
“How can you know that? How can you know how I feel, what goes on in my head?” he demanded, yelling in return.
“Because your tears told me, Nick Carter. You told me. That night out there on the beach. You cried in my arms. You cried for me and for the kids we would never get to raise. You want them as much as I do and when I offer you a chance to at least be a father to our children you turn away, you shut me out, but worst of all, Nick, is you’re lying to me. Don’t tell me you don’t want kids. Don’t lie to me,” I warned, staring at his back as he stood across the room from me. “Do whatever else you want, but do not lie to me.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked quietly.
“Why am I doing this to you? Do you realize how much this hurts me, Nick? To know how hard you are fighting this final dream I have breaks my heart. But worse is to know that if you did agree to a child the things I would miss. The things I will miss regardless of whether or not you actually agree. I will never see first steps, hear first words. I will never see a smile or teach my child to dance. I will never see them go to school or fall in love or get married. I will never be able to watch my child grow up because I’m dying,” I screamed.
Then I stopped and stared at him in silence. Not once had I ever said I was dying, only that I was going to die sooner. Things had changed for me though.
“I’m going to die, Nick, but I’m dying now. Whatever life I have is slowly fading away from me. I’m starting to feel it, Nick. Tiny little things inside my body that are beginning to let me know it’s not that much farther away. Yet, no matter how much I beg and plead you still refuse my last miracle, my last dream, the only thing I have left to ask of you. Tell me what’s more painful, Mr. Carter. Living the rest of your life without the woman you love or dying knowing the only man you’ve ever loved would deny you your last request?”
Then silently I walked out of the room and out of the house. I spent the rest of the night sitting in my tree staring at the stars. They held all the answers except the one I longed for the most. Why?
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