I kiss his lips. “Are you kidding?” I laugh. “I’ve never felt better, baby.”
He chuckles, wrapping me up in his arms, holding me tight, and kissing the top of my head. I hold him too, and we stay this way for a while, catching our breaths and enjoying this tiny moment of euphoria.
TWENTY-ONE
My days spent with John before his trip to Vegas go by way too quickly. Before I know it, I’m helping him pick out ties from the closet and then packing his toiletries.
In between the days spent with him, I’ve had many wellness checks with Dr. Barad and have spent a lot of time with Tessa.
With Tessa, we’ve painted our nails and tried on Korean face masks she’d bought a while back. The best part of it all was that I was able to make it up and down the stairs without passing out or tumbling down, and was even able to make breakfast once, which I consider a win.
Of course, John was by my side during every step, but I didn’t mind it. He was going to be gone for four whole days. He may test my nerves from time to time, but I am going to miss him.
This is going to be the first time he’s away from me for longer than twenty-four hours. As I sit on the bed with my legs crossed, folding his T-shirts and shorts, a tear escapes me when I realize that fact. John is too busy in the closet, rummaging through the racks, trying to find his favorite monogrammed chef shirts.
I swipe the frustrating tear away quickly. I can’t let him be a witness to it. If he sees me crying, he won’t leave. He’ll find every reason to stay and I can’t have that.
I want to see him make it before I’m gone, which is why I straighten myself up and smile as he rushes out of the closet, laying one of his shirts down on the bed.
“I had this one dry-cleaned today. All ready for the competition.” He looks up at me, grinning from ear to ear. “You think I’ll make it through the first round?”
I finish folding the final shirt. “Are you kidding? You’re going to slay that first round.”
“I don’t know.” His head shakes as he carefully folds the shirt. “I checked out the list. There are a lot of big, talented names going out there. People that I’ve actually learned from. It’s going to be huge.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I climb on my knees, crawling toward him. “The world isn’t ready for John Streeter and that’s a fact.”
I hug him around the waist, tugging him down on the bed with me. He sits, smiling as he wraps an arm around me, then weaves our fingers together. “I’m going to be a wreck without you there.”
“You’ll be fine. Drake is going with you, right? He’ll definitely be rooting you on.”
He rolls his eyes. “My cousin will be too worried about drinking and strippers than he will be about my cooking. He’s never understood my passion for it.”
I laugh. “I’m sure he’ll still be around. He wouldn’t miss it.”
“Yeah,” he scoffed. “We’ll see. Either way, I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”
“I’ll miss you more.” I tilt my chin, allowing him to press his lips to my temple. “Don’t do anything crazy,” I tease.
“I’ll be too busy thinking about you to do anything crazy.”
“And don’t go changing anyone’s tires during the middle of the night,” I add with a laugh.
He gets a kick out of that one, his body shaking with laughter. “I won’t, Strange Girl.”
The next morning, around 6:15 a.m., I’m kissing my husband goodbye. Tessa’s arm wraps around me and she holds me close as we stand in the driveway, watching him leave in the backseat of an Uber.
So much emotion has been trapped inside me for the past week, so much I can’t explain. I’ve been holding back my tears and refusing to get upset. I wish I was healthy enough to go with him. I’ve been strong, but I don’t think I can be strong for much longer.
Now that he’s leaving, it’s all so real and I feel a hole in my chest—a cavity that won’t be filled until he returns.
And then there’s the knowing…knowing that any day now I might not be able to walk down my staircase or even to the bathroom in my bedroom.
It could happen over the weekend, while he’s away, for all we know. It could happen today, while he’s on his flight and can’t use his phone.
That’s what terrifies me most. The devastation it will bring. Sooner or later those blue and white pills won’t give me energy and the OPX won’t assist me.
My eyes sting with tears. I try blinking them away, batting my eyelashes wildly as I watch him wave out the window. The car’s tail lights become smaller with distance. Then he’s gone.