Three Weeks.

Three Weeks After. 

I’ve never been a strong swimmer. 

This fact is made blatantly obvious as I fight the waves to keep my head above the saltwater. Gasping for breath, I crawl from the waves onto the white-hot sand and throw myself upon it. Chest heaving, I lay my head against the sand and breathe in time with the rushing tide. 

My wife, Ashley, I think her name is, jogs to my side. She’s right at home as she settles herself down beside me, assuring her toes are tucked into the sand before she turns to look at me, her long brown hair swishing over her shoulders. Against the bright sunlight, she is the silhouette of a goddess, and I am painfully mortal. 

“Honey, are you okay?” She asks concern and laughter fight for control over her words. She brushes my hair out of my eyes and I feel the breath that my lungs fought so hard for being pulled from my body. 

“I’m fine, my dear.” I manage with broken breaths. 

I would drown in a thousand oceans for you.

 I ungracefully stand, offering my hand to her. Her fingers trace over my palm before accepting my help, and the simple touch brings goosebumps to my sunburnt skin. We begin to walk along the ocean, hand in hand, and my mind wanderers to our wedding only days before. 

-

Two Weeks After

The sun had been too hot, and my suit was drenched with sweat. 

 Relatives, mine and hers, gave me sour looks as they sat down. I ignored them. The seat reserved for her father is blatantly empty, and my bride walked down the aisle alone. Her head is held high, hair in a relaxed bun on her head like a crown.

 My queen walked toward me with beauty and grace. Back straight, her pure white dress clung to her figure and I couldn’t pull my eyes away. When she took her place beside me, and vowed that there forever she’d stay, it was all I could do to keep from dropping to my knees and thanking the Gods for their favor. Whispers followed us as we walked down the aisle.

-

We walk for miles along the stretch of sand, chasing the sun as it slips behind the waves. We come to a place where the rocks meet the sea and she excitedly starts to climb; her strong, small hands grasping the nooks and crannies, she moves gracefully over the surface. 

“I didn’t know you were a mountaineer.” I laugh, watching as she stands atop her conquest.

 “I’ve climbed Everest, you know.”. 

“Really?” I’m in awe and my body aches at the thought. 

“No,” She’s quietly dejected “ -not really. Although that would be a very good story.” The phrase sounds at home on her lips. They lift at the corners as she speaks. Jumping from the rock, for a moment her form is a silhouette against the darkening sky before she crashes into the sand, staggering so that I reach out to catch her, wrapping her up in my arms.

 She’s so small against me. Like a fairy or a rare bird. 

Giggling with elation, she looks up at me and smiles- dimpled cheeks and bright eyes. 

I don’t know what she sees in me. 

---

One Week After

“One ticket to-

“-New Zealand, please.” 

I turn to look at the woman who is attempting to claim my ticket and find a large backpack instead. The airport’s LED lights and too little sleep have driven me mad, I decide, until I look farther down to see the woman with her hair back and a small scowl cemented between her eyes. 

The ticket broker looked between us, then shook her head. “I’m afraid there’s only one ticket remaining on this flight, and with the storm, we’re not planning on flying out any more any time soon.” She clicked a few keys on her keyboard and squinted at the screen. “Your next option-” 

“I don’t have time for another option, I’m supposed to be guiding a river raft tour right now!” 

“River raft tour? Ma’am, I’m sorry but I need this ticket to go see my family.” I shoot back. 

To tell them the news. I think to myself. 

“You don’t sound like you’re from New Zealand.” She crosses her arms and looks up at me. 

“My family moved there when-I don’t have to explain this to you.” I’m baffled at her bluntness and decide to ignore both her and the attraction my body has to hers. 

“I can have you both out of here tomorrow, meanwhile there’s a hotel right across the street from here.” The ticket clerk handed me a card, a ticket for a free stay. “Whoever wants it.” She gestures quickly between us and I know her patience is waning.

 I take the card and gratefully thank her. As I walk away I hear the quick thudding of sneakers on the tile. 

“Don’t think you get to be Mr. Martyr alone. I’m not getting on that damned plane either.” 

Behind me, Backpack Woman is following like a stubborn shadow. 

“Don’t think you’re winning me over with your charm and wit, now.” I reply and continue my move toward the doors. She groans but continues to follow me. 

Does she think she’ll wear me down?

“My name is Ashely.” She tries again, and I feel bad to be so rude, but making friends has never been lower on my list. 

It’s less hurt for everyone. I push open the doors; The rain is deafening as it rockets to the ground. 

I’m soaked as soon as I leave the safety of the airport.

“Wait!” I hear her yell and turn around because I know I’ll regret it if I don’t.

She’s sopping wet already, the skin on her lips tinged blue.

 Teeth chattering and eyes pleading.

“Can I stay with you?” 

“Yes.” 

 I agreed before her words hit the air. What did I have to lose?

---

We’ve stretched out on the sand, the warmth of the sun only a memory on our skin as we look up at the stars. Ashley is snuggled up to my side, her head resting on my tattooed arm as she looks up at the sky. I watch her eyes search the night for constellations and shooting stars. 

“You know, you can tell what time of year it is based on the constellations.” She says.

 Tilting her head and squinting, she sticks her tongue between her teeth. “Right now it’s...summer.” 

My chuckle comes out like a snort. “A mountaineer and an astronomer.A woman of many talents.” 

She clicks her tongue and shoots another wink my way. “You know I am, baby. Look! A shooting star!” She sits up and points excitedly to the bright streak in the sky before slamming her eyes closed. 

“Make a wish!” She whispers. I feel my smile pulled to Earth. I’ve already wished for so much.

---

Before. 

“You have three weeks to live. Most.” The doctor, who had to be half my age, delivered this news with no empathy. The words are a kick in the stomach and darkness edges around my vision. “What can I do?” 

“Anything. See your family, write a book. The worst thing you can do is nothing. Live your life while you have it.”

As I gather my clothes and walk through the hallway, a nurse looks up from my chart, the clipboard only an inch or two from her nose. 

“Be brave.” is all she says.

I take it to heart. 

----

“What did you wish for?” Ashley watches me intently as she waits for my answer. She does everything with the same dedicated energy. I sigh as I try to think of an honest answer. 

For the pills to work, for bravery. 

For more time with you.

I smile at her and feel my heart fighting itself. 

It’ll be okay, I tell myself, and if it’s not? I’ll be brave. For her. 

I pull her close and kiss her and silently ask God, please. If I can only have one wish granted, one prayer answered….

“Another sunny day tomorrow.”