“You’ll keep me updated from now on,” she tells Ethan. “I don’t trust her to.” She glares my way.
“I will,” he promises.
“I have sick days. I’m going to take them for your surgery so I can help Ethan take care of you.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I shake my head, hating that she has to waste her sick days on me.
“You’re my best friend. Practically my sister,” she says incredulously. “I want to be mad at you for keeping this from me, but…”
“But you’re afraid I’m going to die and you don’t want to be mad at me if I do.”
“Nevaeh!” she shrieks at the same time Ethan barks, “Enough.”
“What?” I shrug my shoulders. “It’s the truth.”
“C’mon.” Ethan sighs. “Let’s get you home.”
“See? You can’t stay mad at me either because I might die.”
“Nevaeh…” Ethan warns.
“Fine. Fine.” I turn to Blaire. “Want to come over next weekend? Ethan’s been letting me girlify his place and I would love for you to see it.”
“Our place,” Ethan says.
“Huh?” I ask, confused.
“You said my place.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple. “It’s our place, baby. You’re my wife. Everything that is mine is yours.”
“And swoon,” Blaire says dramatically, holding her hands to her heart. “You guys are so freaking cute. Of course I’ll come over! We can have a double date. Do dinner and a movie at your place.”
“Sounds good.” I give Blaire a hug goodbye. “See you soon.”
Once we’re home, after Ethan gets me a glass of water and a couple pain pills, I lie down to go to sleep. Ethan tells me if I need anything, he’ll be getting some work done in his office.
I snuggle into my blankets and am about to close my eyes when I see my list on the nightstand. Snatching it up, I wrap my blanket over my shoulders and head out to the balcony. With two comfortable lounge chairs and a table that overlook the water, it has quickly become my favorite place to sit and relax.
Once I’m situated, I open the list and read through each item. I stop when I get to make love somewhere crazy. My thoughts go back to a couple days ago—to Ethan making love to me against his car. To the things he said to me. His words have been on replay in my head since he spoke them. He’s right… I know he is. For years I considered this list living, and since I met him, I’ve checked off more items than ever before, and so I told myself I was finally living. And I am… to a certain extent. But I’ve also been so focused on trying to achieve my goals before I die, I’ve been going through the motions and not stopping to enjoy my life. I created this list so I could look at everything I’ve done and say, “I’ve lived,” but life isn’t about crossing items off a checklist, it’s about living in the moment. Being happy and in love. Making memories. Spending time with the people who are important to me. Before Ethan, I was living—it was just different. I had Blaire and my job and church, and sure, I wanted more, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t living, and it’s not fair to diminish those parts of my life.
When I married Ethan, it wasn’t because it was an item on my list. It was because I love him. When I make love to him, it’s not because it’s on my list, it’s because he’s the other half of me. The tattoo I got wasn’t because it’s on my list. It’s because I wanted something to remember my brother by. When Ethan and I danced in the rain, sure it was on my list, but I think it would’ve happened even if it wasn’t. And do I really want every memory I make to be because of a list or because it’s what we chose to do in the moment?
Ethan was right. Life is more than a list to be checked off. It’s about living in the moment so you don’t miss the ones not on the list—the ones you didn’t even know you wanted.
And now it’s time I start living for me instead of this list.
Without giving it a second thought, I do something I never imagined I would do—I crumple up the list and throw it over the balcony. I watch as it soars through the wind and then disappears into the darkness. Then I go in search of Ethan. It’s time we start living.
When I get to his office, I find him sitting in his office chair with his elbows on his knees and his head between his hands. He appears to be staring at something, but I can’t make out what it is.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, walking in.