Page 9

DAVINA

Past

Three weeks before Lewis died, I noticed his depression had worsened.

I wasn’t sure how to help him or what more I could do as his partner. He was slowly withering away. I still held out hope that things could turn around, but deep in my gut, I knew they wouldn’t.

Wilmer, his personal caregiver and a man who’d become a very close friend of ours, suggested that we all plan a trip to the beach.

Lew perked up at the idea, and though I was nervous to travel anywhere with him while he was so frail, I figured why not. He needed the experience after so many hard months, so during the last three weeks of his life, we planned and prepared.

We made a short drive to the Outer Banks so the ride wouldn’t wear him out, but there was one night of the trip that stuck with me most. One that would haunt my dreams so badly they would keep me awake at night.

We sat by the pool as the sun set and the ocean waves roared in the distance. I didn’t want to go inside yet, but Lew was tired and ready to lie down. I helped him with a shower, assisted with the pajamas, then got him into bed.

Afterward, I brushed his buzz-cut hair. There wasn’t much of it left, but he loved the feel of the soft bristles on his scalp. He used to have gorgeous curls, which I’d apply moisturizer and water to so I could comb them and make them bouncier. I had done it all the time before he got sick, and he’d loved it, said he’d never had his hair played with before.

Lewis caught my eye as I placed the brush down and smiled up at me.

“What is it?” I asked, smiling back.

“You’re just so beautiful, Davina.”

His words caught me completely off guard, along with the wide, proud smile taking over his face, and the shine in his eyes. He had a cute smile. One of his front teeth was slightly chipped at the tip—hardly noticeable unless you were up close and personal with him. He told me it chipped while he was playing a free game of football with his friends.

“Come here.” Lewis reached for me, and I climbed onto the bed to lie next to him. He was quiet for a moment. While he was, I listened to the dishes clinking in the kitchen as Wilmer cleaned up.

“I can’t stop thinking about when we first met,” Lew said with a soft laugh. “How upset you got when I bumped into you and spilled your popcorn all over the floor.”

I laughed at the reminder. “I think I had a right to be upset. Movie popcorn ain’t cheap, and I was already broke.”

“You’re right. It’s not cheap. But I bought you another one—a jumbo size, remember? With a Diet Coke?”

“I remember.” I stroked the tiny bits of fuzz on his chin and jaw as my brows dipped. “What are you getting at, Lew?”

His hazel eyes glistened as he looked into mine. I sat up straighter as his lips parted, and it was like he had so much to say but couldn’t articulate the words.

“Babe, what is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

“You were the prettiest woman I’d ever seen, Davina,” he said after a sharp exhale. “I remember thinking that I wanted to marry you right on the spot. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s like all these moments flashed before me when I looked into your eyes that day. I could see you walking down the aisle to marry me, us buying a house together and me kissing you at the threshold while I held you in my arms. Making love ... having kids ...”

At the last statement, his eyes dropped, and his throat bobbed when he swallowed. A tear ran down his cheek and landed on the top of my hand. My throat closed in on itself as I placed my fingers to his chin and tipped his head back up.

I wanted to cry. Badly. But I also wanted to keep my emotions level. Lew hardly ever talked like this.

“Why are you saying all of this?” I asked in a quiet voice.

“Because I want you to know that even though we vowed to spend the rest of our lives together, you should be happy. Whether I’m here or not.”

“Lew.” I shook my head, swallowing to soothe the burn in my throat. “Stop.”

He took one of my hands in his and squeezed it tight. “I mean it, Vina. I want you to be happy. No matter what happens to me, I want you to live on, baby. I know the last year has been brutal, and you’re wanting things I can’t give you.”

“Lew. I mean it.”

“You can talk to other people,” he went on, ignoring me. “You can be with someone else and let them make you happy, just like I did. You can fall in love again, so long as you’re living your best life.”

“Stop talking like that. Please,” I pleaded, but the words came out hoarse and thick.

Oh, God. My chest was hurting so badly. The dam was going to break if he kept going.

Lew smiled at me as he used his free hand to swipe one of my tears away. “I love you, Vina Boo. But I know you, and I don’t want you shutting the world out when I’m gone.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” I countered, fighting a sob. “You’re here to stay, Lewis. You’re here, and you’re mine, and we did not fall in love just for it to be cut short. We didn’t. You can still beat this.”

Without another word, Lew cupped the back of my head and brought my forehead to his chest. That’s when I broke down completely. His body was my home, and I loved being there. No one wanted their home to crumble—to deteriorate and vanish. It was unfair.

No one else could comfort me like he could.

No one else could embrace and accept me through every single one of my flaws like my husband could.

There was no way he was leaving me. No way at all. He was alive and breathing. How could such a beautiful life be stripped away from him?

I swear, it’s always the best people who are dealt the worst situations.

“I love you,” he whispered into my hair. He said it again while stroking my arm, but I noticed how hard that was for him to do. I could hear the strained noises in his chest, feel the rigidness of his movements. Even while sick, he wanted to comfort me.

“I love you, too, Lew Boo,” I finally whispered.

I’m not sure when we fell asleep that night, but when I woke up, a stretch of sunlight was spread across the bed, and its warmth lingered on my face. My eyes were still tight and raw from crying, and my heart ached at the sheer reminder of our conversation.

I turned to Lewis, who was still sleeping, and snuggled closer to him. I kissed his upper arm, then shifted upward to kiss his cheek. I remained nestled against his body ... but it only took me several seconds to realize he wasn’t breathing.

“Lew?” I sat up, giving his shoulder a shake.

I pressed an ear to his chest, waiting for that heartbeat I loved hearing every night.

Nothing.

I listened harder, but his chest was hollow, empty. Not a single thump.

“Lew!” I tapped his face rapidly, and when that didn’t make him budge, I shook him by the shoulder again. “Lew, no. Please, get up. Lew. Get up! Oh, God! Wilmer! Get in here! Please! ” I didn’t stop shaking my husband. “Open your eyes, baby, please. Lewis, please !”

The bedroom door burst open, and Wilmer rushed in. “Davina? What is it? What happened?”

I tried answering him—I did—but my chest felt like it was caving in, and my heart was in my throat. The ache inside me was raw and deep, and it sliced me in two because I knew exactly what was happening. I knew it but couldn’t fathom speaking the truth.

All that talk from him about moving on, about me being happy ...

No. Why did I fall asleep? Why didn’t I stay awake with him? All I could think was that I could’ve prevented this if I’d just been awake—if I’d gotten up to check on him.

“Please do something, Wilmer!”

Wilmer checked for Lew’s pulse by the wrist and then switched to his neck. When he lowered to a squat and studied Lew’s body with misty eyes, he gave his head a deliberate shake and said, “I’m sorry, Davina.”

It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be true. I looked from Wilmer to Lewis. He looked like he was sleeping. He had to be sleeping ... right ?

“Lewis, please.” A sob rocked my entire body. “Please, baby. Don’t do this. I need you. Please don’t leave me.”

The sound that ripped out of my throat was one I’d never heard before. Never in my life had I felt so much pain, so much hurt . I’d lost my daddy, yes, but I was so young and clueless then. I didn’t fully understand what I’d lost until I was older.

But Lewis was my partner and my better half. Can you imagine half your heart being ripped out of your chest? The other half keeps beating, but it’s damaged beyond repair, and not a damn thing can mend it.

You’re hopeless this way. You fold into yourself and are left with no choice but to feel every wave of emotion, every clench of the belly, every halted breath as you slowly wish for the oxygen to leave your lungs, because what’s the point of breathing anymore? It feels like you’ll never survive such agony—like you’ll never recover ... like you’re dying too.

I dropped my head onto my husband’s chest. I don’t know when I stopped crying that day.

My safety.

My rock.

My best friend.

My everything .

He was gone, and I was completely shattered.