Page 81 of Stitch
“Oh my god, Stitch. Yes. You’re not dying, you idiot!” She swatted me with the letter, and I took it back from her.
Benign. It was benign. No further treatment. No further surgery. No fucking cancer in me, at least not right now. I read it again, and again. Yep, it definitely said I wasn’t dying. Fucking hell, how long had I been in hell waiting for this letter? The date on the letter told me that I could have had this news a fucking week ago.What the hell did I wait around for?
Camille handed me the other letters, so I passed the first one to Elise, who immediately started reading it, tears streaming down her cheeks again.
Cammy
Stitch tore open thesecond letter, which was some counselling referral letter, which he promptly tossed on the floor, to open the third letter.
The third one made him curse. “Apparently I missed some fucking appointment where they would have told me this shit in person. Also a week ago. Just over, in fact. Jesus… I’ve been in hell when this information was right fucking there.”
I snatched the letter and tossed it on the floor, before I jumped into his lap and started kissing him.
He was fine! Okay, he’d lost a part of himself, and he’d gone through a traumatic experience, but it was over now. He wasn’t going to get sick and die on me like he thought, and we were married. I’d married him and now I’d get to keep him. I couldn’t stop kissing him.
“Ugh… I’m going to get out of here.” We stopped kissing as Elise spoke, turning to see her already walking across the room.
“Wait just a minute.” Stitch eased me out of his lap, and crossed the room, pressing a hand against the door as she tried to open it.
“Stitch, please.”
“Why the fuck would you be leaving now? We just got the best fucking news. I want to party and celebrate, and I want you here. You’re my sister. I want you here.” She stepped into him, throwing her arms around him, and pressing her face against his chest.
“I’ve been so scared, Seth. I thought I was losing you. Thank god you’re okay.” The words were getting more and more muffled and hiccuppy as she cried all over him, so I took the opportunity to go and use the facilities, and take a moment for myself too.
Stitch nearly fell to his death just a day ago, thinking he was on borrowed time already, and he wasn’t. I couldn’t even imagine how we’d have felt if he’d died that day, and we’d returned to these letters. Forget kisses, he needed a smack upside his head for putting off getting the news that would change both of our lives for the fucking better.
I allowed myself a few tears as I absorbed the fact that we’d returned to such great news. That we had a future together after all. Stitch wasn’t going anywhere, and even if he tried, I’d drag him back, kicking and screaming, because he’d called me his, but the truth was that he was mine too, and I wasn’t about to let him go.
“Babe? You okay in there?”
I used the hand towel to blot my tears, and pulled the door open.
“Aw babe, come here.” I sobbed into Stitch’s chest for a few minutes, feeling soothed by the warmth and strength of my man, but then a heavy banging on the door made us pull apart.
“That’s Reacher, I sent him a text to come up. Elise has gone for a walk. She said she needed to clear her head, but she’ll be back.”
Stitch crossed the room and pulled the door open.
“Hey, brother, what’s up?”
Stitch shoved the letter in Reacher’s hands as he reached past him to close the door. Reacher read for a few moments, and let out a heavy sigh, then he reached up and slapped the back of Stitch’s head.Ha!It was like he’d read my mind.
“You dumb fuck. You coulda had this a week ago, dammit. You could have been enjoying your fucking honeymoon.”
Oh god. If he’d known this a week ago, we’d never have happened, would we? He wouldn’t have needed the counselling, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have thought he was living with limited options. Maybe I was just the easy choice, because I was there, and he didn’t have to look for someone.
Suddenly I was wondering if I’d get to keep him after all, because now that he had a whole life ahead of him, was I a real choice, or the only choice?
Stitch caught my arm and dragged me against him, kissing the top of my head.
“Brother, we need to call Church asap.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I have an old lady vote to put to them. Two, in fact.”
I pulled away to glare at him.
