Page 172 of Ill Will

“I don’t mean like that.”

“Oh,” he said. “I was waiting for you. I looked up the medicine you’re on and saw all of the side effects. I didn’t want you to think you had to worry about me, especially since you thought that I’d ask you for that when I was sick.”

“You said you wanted to do it a thousand times. Why wait?”

“Because I wantyouto want it.”

“I do.But after seeing me like that?—”

“I still love you. For better or worse. That’s what a marriage means.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, emotion clogging up my throat. “Love, huh?”

“Yes, darling. I love you. Even when you’re sick, and every second in between.”

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I’d waited for this moment. I didn’t know I had, but there was the truth. It was why I kept picking up books that could make me feel a mere fraction of what love could be.

And now I had it. I really had it.

“You were always here, huh?” I asked. “Right in front of me.”

“Yes.”

I saw it all through a new lens.

And old confusion finally cleared up. Everything from why he bought the ring to rushing me to the hospital made sense.

I finally understood.

And I wanted to move on, but I had one more question.

“There’s no more secrets between us, right?”

“Not that I know of. But if I think of any, I’ll tell you.”

I nodded, but I still wondered what could be waiting out there.

“Wait, I thought of one.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t like tomatoes.”

“What? But you said you would try my salsa when the plants grow.”

“And I will, but I hate the vegetable.”

“It’s a fruit.”

“That’s a technicality.”

“If that’s your secret, then I guess I can live with it.”

“I have more.”

“What are they?”

“First, I knew you hated chocolate cake when Emma told me. You mentioned it all those years ago on your birthday.”

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