Here, take my heart. Take my soul. Take every second I have left because I don’t want them without you.
By the time we made it to the camp, I was sick with loathing at life and love, utterly unable to talk.
My heart was in knots; my stomach tied up with rotten string.
I missed the man who used to run wild amongst the trees.
I missed the boy who made me believe in fairy-tales.
As we finished the tent, Ren’s coughing couldn’t be ignored and, after a while, he gave me a tear-invoking smile and went to sit by the log we’d chosen as a bench.
He understood that he wasn’t the only one struggling with this.
Jacob hated hearing him cough.
And my nerves were frayed and burning.
As I pottered about doing final tasks, I couldn’t keep my eyes off Ren as he sat whittling a stick with his ever-trusty knife. His face pensive and calm.
My heart swelled with injustice and rage. My motions jerky and harsh.
The backpack was my worst enemy.
The twigs and wilderness my greatest foe.
I wanted everything to hurt as much as I did and stomped around, snapping things and kicking others.
Ren caught me as I moved around him, pulling out the small cooler box with our meat for breakfast and dinner, placing it where the fire would go.
“Ribbon.” He smiled kindly, his face still so damn handsome but so much more defined than before. A definition that came from sickness. A definition that no one could agree was right.
I tried to pull away, biting my lip from saying hurtful things, painful things, things that I never normally let spill.
I was so angry.
So furious.
So hurt.
When I didn’t bow to his touch like normal, Ren’s eyes narrowed. “I know this is hard. But please…don’t be angry with me.”
For a second, I wanted to slap him.
I wanted to pummel his broken chest and kick him in the shins.
It made no sense.
My violence was confused and smarting.
I hated seeing him so skinny.
I despised hugging his once solid, comforting frame only to find bone instead of muscle.
I hated my tears and fears and the fact that as the final day crept closer, my strength grew non-existent.
I didn’t like the seething mass inside my belly.
I didn’t enjoy having to control my temper toward my husband and son because it wasn’t them who made me angry.
God made me angry.
Life made me angry.
Love made me so fucking angry.
And I needed to shout at someone, fight something, attack anything to get rid of the tight fury inside me.
My nostrils flared as I continued to look down at him.
He looked so gorgeous and regal. So wise and perceptive and everlasting.
And I wanted to hit him and hit him and hit him because he’d achieved the impossible. He’d run from evil, endured horrors, saved me, guided me, loved me, married me, and now…now he was leaving me.
He didn’t have that right.
He didn’t have that luxury.
He owed me.
He owed me to stay because why else had we been given this life together?
“Ah, Della.” Ren stood, smothering a cough. With hands that still had strength and dominance, he squeezed my biceps. “Yell at me. Scream at me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
I shook my head, short and jerky. “You know I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because Jacob is somewhere close by, and…and it’s not your fault.”
“None of this is anyone’s fault, but I’m just as angry as you. I’m fucking furious that I can’t hold you forever and be beside you as you grow old.” His voice darkened. “Don’t you think I’ve punched things, kicked things? Tried to somehow relieve that filthy pressure inside?”
“I know you have. I’ve patched up your bruised knuckles.” I smiled, doing my best to make a tense moment into a light-hearted one, but Ren didn’t let it go.
“You have to let it out, Della. You can’t allow it to fester.” His eyes cast into the twilight-shrouded forest, a bird twirl whistling from his lips.
A call he’d taught Jacob to recognise and repeat—a way of keeping tabs on him when he tarried off without us.
An answering tune came from the distance, faint but close enough not to panic.
“He’s out of hearing distance—for the most part.” Ren cupped my cheek. “Tell me. Hit me if you need.”
For a second, I considered it.
I honestly contemplated hitting the love of my life.
The love who was dying.
But then, my rage vanished as quickly as it had built, and I melted into his embrace. “I’m just so afraid, Ren. So afraid I won’t be able to do this. That nothing will make sense or be worthwhile anymore. How can I look after Jacob when you’re not here to look after me? How am I supposed to care about anything when the only thing I’ve ever cared about is gone?”
Even though tears didn’t fall, sadness vibrated in my voice, cloying as smoke.