Page 146 of Never Stop

“That’s the point. When you’re sick, your body is trying to heal. It’s the same with Brooke. But she’s better now.”

She stared at me for a beat as if she were processing my words.

“Good. I don’t want her to die. I want to have a brother or sister.”

A lump formed in my throat. I didn’t want my wife to die either—obviously. And knowing how bad my two girls wanted me to procreate again made me smile.

“We’re working on it.”

A few days passed and I was back to my old routine. Avery and I worked out in the morning and then went to work. By the time I got home to make dinner, Brooke would actually eat it. She was still in pain, but it seemed that the nerve medication she was taking was finally working. She complained about her shoulder a lot. She said it was nothing like before. I didn’t know exactly what she meant. I had my doubts that it was as bad as before because I knew deep down she was scared to go back on narcotics and didn’t want to go through withdrawals again so she’d be in denial.

I went into the bedroom to tell Brooke dinner was almost ready. That was another thing. She still struggled to get undressed and to take a shower or wash her hair, but she always refused my help. I still thought it was a way of tricking herself into believing her recovery was over. It was far from over. Her scar still hadn’t healed. We removed the tape that was placed after surgery, but it was still red and looked angry. If that was how it was on the outside, I couldn’t imagine her insides.

When I turned the corner, Brooke was standing in front of the mirror staring at herself. She was dressed in her pajamas, ready for the evening, but she didn’t turn when I entered.

“Dinner’s almost ready.”

She turned to me then, her face red, her gorgeous green eyes glassy.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you notice anything different about me?”

I studied her face for a few seconds, not seeing anything other than the fact she had been crying. “What should I be looking at?”

She pointed to her right eye. “Do you see it?”

My eyebrows arched. “See what?”

“See what?” she screeched. “How can you not see it?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, still trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. “I don’t see anything different.”

She let out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m deformed, Easton!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She pointed to her eye again. “Don’t you see it? It’s drooping. I thought Dr. Simon said during surgery this might happen, not three months later!”

I placed my hands on her shoulders so I could look her square in the face. After looking at her and I mean, really looking at her, I saw it. Her right eye had a slight droop, but it was so tiny that if I weren’t looking for it, I’d never notice. “I see it a little.”

“It’s fucking annoying. It has been like this all day. At first, I thought I was just tired, but when I looked in the mirror just now, I saw it.”

I took a deep breath. “Honestly, it’s not noticeable.”

“Well, I see it!”

“I’m sorry,” I said and pulled her to my chest. We stood like that for a few minutes as Brooke cried in my arms. “I don’t care if your eye shuts completely. I’ll still love you no matter what.”

She groaned. “You better because I’ve been falling apart since I was thirty.”

I kissed the top of her head. “You’re not falling apart. You’re getting stronger. One day you’ll look back on all this and laugh in cancer’s face.”

“Yeah, I totally will,” she said confidently.