He sat on the bed quietly, his hands in his lap and his eyes staring dead ahead at the mahogany dressing table in the corner of the room. Her smiling face was nestled in a black wooden frame; her bright green eyes lit with as big of a smile as was on her porcelain face. He’d always loved the way her dark brown hair framed her face; how the light made the lighter, natural highlights shimmer in the sunlight. He loved the way her laugh sounded, the way she fit against him when they cuddled and slept… He missed her so much.

He closed his eyes and thought of all the times they’d spent together, including the day they met.

It had been snowing so hard he could barely see ten feet in front of him. He’d been watching out his window because a friend of a friend was supposed to be coming over to pick up a Christmas gift for their mutual friend and he was worried that she wouldn’t make it. He hadn’t received a call saying she wasn’t coming, hadn’t heard anything from her since they’d talked earlier that morning to confirm the pick-up. He had half a mind to go out and search for her to make sure she was okay.

After several minutes of pacing the floor by the fire in his dark-wash jeans, flannel shirt, and thick white socks, he looked out the window again. Pushing aside the dark red curtains, he peered through the frosted glass and squinted. There was something dark moving through the falling white. He quickly moved away from the window, shoved his feet into his boots and was out the door as he was pulling on his coat. The wind whipped and nearly knocked him off his feet, but he kept moving. Minutes later, though she was merely four feet away, he finally reached her.

“Let me help you inside!” He shouted over the wind.

She nodded and let him take her arm as he led her back through the blizzard. They slid over the ice a few times, he catching her often and she holding him up as well. When they reached his doorway, he pushed the door open and let her in first. Once inside where the fire was crackling and the snow began melting, he kicked off his boots and took off his coat. He turned back to the woman—her dark blue crocheted hat was soaked through, her dark hair matted to her blazing red cheeks, her nose dripping, her teeth chattering, lips quivering, her black pea coat coated with melting snow—and hurriedly helped her out of her wet things. He threw her coat to the floor, pulled her bright red boots and soaking socks off her feet. When he came back up and started unbuttoning her wet shirt, she pushed his hands roughly away.

“It’s to keep you warm. If you stay in these wet clothes, you’ll catch your death.”

She fought him still and he sighed. Relenting—if only for the moment—he quickly walked over to the closet by the door. He pulled out a large gray sweater with a University of Michigan logo on it and grabbed a pair of his old black sweatpants that he usually put on over his jeans when he shoveled snow. He held them out to her, letting her know that she could cover herself right back up, and slowly reached for her shirt again, all the while never taking his eyes from hers. They were a deep green—the kind of green he was only ever used to seeing in emeralds at the jewelry store his father worked at.

She let him unbutton her shirt—a classic gray button down—but the glare in her eyes and stubborn set of her still shaking jaw let him know she didn’t like it at all. After pushing her shirt from her lightly freckled, delicately curved shoulders, he pulled the sweater over her head. After that was on, he motioned down to her pants, nerves starting to appear in his stomach. Her beauty wasn’t lost on him at all; even when she looked like a drowned rat, in his eyes, Aphrodite herself couldn’t have been more beautiful. She reached for the button, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t get it.

“C-can’t.” She stuttered through her frozen state. “I c-c-can’t f-feel my f-fingers.”

He nodded. “May I?”

Grudgingly, she relented. He reached forward, maintaining the proper distance, and unbuttoned her pants. She was the one that slipped them off, but when she lost her balance, he held her up by the waist. His father had taught him to be a gentleman, but the thoughts running through his mind weren’t so gentleman-like in that moment. Once she had the sweatpants on he guided her over to the fireplace, sat her down on the floor, and wrapped a thick fleece blanket around her shoulders.

“Are you a coffee or tea drinker?”

She scrunched up her nose and he couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips.

“Hot chocolate?”

She nodded and smiled as much as her shivering would allow. He went out into the kitchen and started boiling up some water in a small pan. As he waited, he went into the hallway and to the small bathroom, grabbed a towel, and went to hand it to the strange young woman in his living room. She took it gratefully and began drying out her hair.

“So,” he sat down on the couch. “How do you know Frankie?”

She turned and looked at him, but with less of a glare this time. “He’s my c-cousin. How do you know him?”

“College.” The kettle started whistling. “He’s the one that introduced me to sorority parties.”

She rolled her eyes. “Frankie…the effervescent party animal. He hasn’t changed at all.”

“Sure hasn’t.” He chuckled and went back into the kitchen, mixed up the hot chocolate, added a dash of whipped cream and cinnamon, and brought back out the large mug filled to the brim. She took it gratefully, her shaking minimal after sitting so close to the fire. She took a sip and curled herself around the cup. He watched her quietly and admired her. The curve of her shoulders and back was delicate and perfect, her neck long and slender, and her demeanor calm, yet, vivacious. There was something incredibly intriguing about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I didn’t catch your name…” She said after a gentle sip from her mug.

“My name is Jack.” He smiled. “And yours?”

“Natalie.” She laughed and set her mug down. “I should have guessed it was Jack. Frankie does always talk about his friend, the lumberjack. Jack the lumberjack. He thinks it’s quite funny.”

Jack smiled and looked down to his hands clasped in front of him. “And that is why he has so many problems with girls. His jokes are terrible.”

“What if he meets a girl who likes that kind of thing?”

“Then she either has horrible judgment or he is the luckiest man alive.”

They both laughed for a moment before she looked back into the fire. Her hair was drying up, the red in her cheeks was from warmth instead of cold, and she could move without shaking. Jack tried his best not to stare, but she was just so…

“When do you think this will let up?”

“Hm?” He raised his brows in question.

A small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “The blizzard.”

“Ah.” He looked to the window only to realize that the curtains were closed. “With the way it was going earlier, I’d say it won’t be over any time soon. We’re supposed to get twelve inches before midnight tonight.”

She sighed. “I love the snow, but not this much.”

Jack tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t mind my asking, why were you walking in it?”

“It wasn’t snowing when I left, obviously.” Natalie’s fair cheeks colored quickly. “I like walking. It gives me time to think to myself and enjoy the outdoors.”

“Didn’t you know it was going to storm?”

“I don’t watch the news. Everything’s much better if it’s a surprise, don’t you think?”

He smirked. “Were you surprised, then?”

She laughed and smiled widely; Jack felt his heart skip a beat. “Very much so.”

The blizzard lasted throughout the night and Natalie stayed with Jack. They watched cheesy Christmas movies, drank hot chocolate, and sang as many Christmas songs as they could stand. At the end of the night, Jack had put How the Grinch Stole Christmas in the DVD player and they sat on the couch together. By the time Cindy Lou Who had begun singing her song, Natalie had fallen asleep. Jack looked at her peaceful form and smiled. He reached around her for the blanket that had fallen off her shoulder and just as he was covering her back up, she fell forward against his chest. Surprised, he sat there for a moment, his arms still reaching for the blanket, and waited. Natalie didn’t move again except to nestle in closer to him. He pulled the blanket over her gently and leaned back against the couch, placing his arm around her shoulders. He would never know exactly how to explain the way it felt to have her in his arms without using more than one word: right.

Jack would always think of that night as their unofficial first date. Natalie would object and say it was merely her subconscious searching for warmth, but Jack knew it was more than that. Despite her reservations, she fell for him that night; and he fell for her.

Time passed and after only one week of dates, Jack had been the first to say those three words everyone wants to hear: I love you. She’d smiled and laughed and after a long, lingering kiss, Natalie returned the sentiment. Most of their friends—all but Frankie—thought they were moving too fast. If it hadn’t happened to him, Jack would have agreed that a week wasn’t long enough to start exchanging I love you’s or to start talking about moving in together or any of the things couples do after spending months—even years—together. He didn’t know how to explain it; Natalie was everything he’d been looking for, everything he could ever want. She was smart, funny, sexy, she didn’t mind voicing her opinion, she supported him in all his endeavors, and she loved him—even for his faults. All the other women he’d ever been with had tried to change him or they treated him like he was the worst human being on the planet. Natalie wasn’t like that. For the first time in a long time, Jack felt loved.

But, after a year had passed, Natalie began fading away. She became distant and seemed to grow sadder by the day. There were times he knew that she was faking a smile just to keep him happy and in that, he loved her even more; she was putting his happiness in front of her own. Jack worried about her more and more every passing day.

They’d been living together for a month—just two weeks after Natalie began acting weird— when they had their first fight.

“What’s wrong, Nat?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged her shoulders, kept her eyes on the carrots she was chopping, and avoided giving anything more than one word answers.

Jack sighed and put the pan he was carrying down on the stove with a little more force than was necessary. The loud clang made Natalie jump and she looked up at him. “You’ve been acting strange for over a month now. I’ve tried to put it behind me, thinking that it was something to do with your family and that, in time, you’d tell me. But I’ve been going out of my mind with worry, Natalie. What’s going on with you?”

“I told you; it’s nothing.” She gave him a small smile and looked back to the carrots.

Jack moved forward quickly, took the knife from her hand, and turned her towards him. “That’s not good enough. Give me a real answer.”

“How much more real do you want, Jack? I’m here, aren’t I? What more do you want from me!”

“I want you to stop pretending that you’re okay. I can see how sad you are…and don’t think I don’t notice the crying at night.”

She pushed away from him and walked out into the living room, trying to get away, but he followed and grabbed her arms again. Jack saw her wince before she pulled away. “Ouch! Leave me alone, Jack!”

He pulled at her sleeves until he saw the large, purplish bruising on her forearms. His eyes widened and this time he let her pull away. “Who did that you?”

“No one. It’s nothing; just leave it alone.”

“Bruises don’t just come out of nowhere, Natalie. Who did that?” He stared at her from across the room. She was pacing by the fireplace, her arms across her chest and her hair swaying in its ponytail. “Was it someone from work? A friend? You’ve been spending a lot of time at your parents’ house; was it someone there?”

“No!”

“Then just tell me what happened! Why are you keeping secrets? What is so terrible that you can’t tell me?”

She looked up at him and Jack’s heart dropped. He knew that look. Her eyes were filled with tears and apologies; apologies that meant the end was coming. Any second now she would give the speech that meant he would never see her again; would never hold her, never kiss her, never make love with her…the speech that meant she was leaving him. “Natalie—”

“Don’t.” She held up a hand to stop him. “I need some time alone, okay? I’m going to Frankie’s. Please don’t follow me.”

Natalie grabbed her coat and slipped on the same bright red boots she’d been wearing when they met. She left quickly, slamming the door behind her. Just as Jack was opening it and running outside into the snow to stop her, she was pulling away. “Natalie!”

They were separated for two weeks. He tried calling her—to apologize, anything to get her back—but she refused to answer. The last call he made, he got the answering machine.

“Hi, you’ve reached Frankie. I’m not home at the moment; I’m probably partying or nursing a hangover, in which case, try again on an upcoming Wednesday.”

Jack sighed. “Hey, it’s me. Again. I know you’re angry, Natalie. I shouldn’t have pushed you like I did. But…if you’re going to dump me, just do it. I’ll pack up all your things and drop them off if you want me to but I’m not a mind reader. Just…call me back and let me know. I—” he stopped himself from saying what he wanted so badly to say and sighed. “Goodbye.”

When Jack hit the ‘end call’ button, he lost it. It was the first time he’d cried since his mother passed away two years before and he hated it. There was nothing worse than knowing you screwed up and lost the best thing in your life. He’d do anything to go back—even if he didn’t really do anything wrong—and take it all back. He’d do anything to just—

Jack looked down and saw an open envelope sitting on the table. Jack didn’t remember seeing it before… He picked it up and, when he saw the envelope wasn’t addressed to anyone, he opened it.

Miss Newman,

It is with deep regret and sorrow that I deliver this news. It is never easy telling a patient this, and I had so hoped we would be able to speak about it in person. Know that there are many ways in which to seek support and that hope is not lost; those that love and care for you will always be around to help you in this distressful time. You are strong, Natalie, and I know you will pull through this.

Your test results have come back positive for ovarian germ cell tumor. Unfortunately, we were unable to catch it before it spread. The full diagnosis is stage two C cancer which essentially means that the cancer cells have spread to pelvic organs and were found in washing from the abdomen.

I highly recommend you call me as soon as possible so we can arrange a meeting and talk about your diagnosis and methods of treatment.

Highest regards,

Doctor Sullivan

Jake’s hands were shaking so hard he had to read the last few lines several times. His tears flowed faster and his heart beat was slow. He set the letter and envelope back on the coffee table and stood, hoping that walking it off would help distract him. He couldn’t have been more wrong. As soon as he was up, he had to sit back down. Jack felt dizzy; so dizzy his head started to spin and he felt sick to his stomach. He clutched at his abdomen and touched his forehead to his knees as he released his frustrations. The only woman he ever truly loved and she was dying. Sobs racked his body as he selfishly thought how awful life was going to be without her.

The rushing in his ears was so loud he didn’t even hear the door open. It wasn’t until the intruder spoke that he knew he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Hey, man. I knocked, but, you obviously didn’t answer, so I used the spare.” He took a step closer. “You okay, dude? You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“Just go away.” He murmured thickly through his tears. Jack sniffed, wiped his face, and stood up. “I can’t talk right now.”

“I know she messed you up, but come on, Jack. It’s not like you haven’t been crushed before.”

“Thank you so much for that, Frankie. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

“Jack—” Something stopped him from finishing his sentence. Jack didn’t question it, just thanked God that he stopped talking.

Jack had sat down again and closed his eyes, relishing in the quiet until he heard the envelope and the letter being moved on the coffee table. A soft breath sighed and he looked up quickly, recognizing that sound anywhere. Natalie always made that sound when she was disappointed. Her dark hair was pulled off her shoulders and stuffed inside a black beanie, her porcelain skin looked even paler than usual, her lips without color, and her once vivacious green eyes now lifeless.

“This is why you’ve been acting so strange.” He said softly, his hands and voice shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Natalie came over to the other side of the couch and sat down beside him. She looked at the fireplace and smiled wistfully. “I remember sitting by that fireplace and pretending not to notice how you stared at me. It was obvious, you know; the way you looked at me. But, then again, I was a bit obvious, too, wasn’t I?” She looked up at the ceiling for a moment before resuming her speech. “My mother died of ovarian cancer; so did my great grandmother on my father’s side. I’d gone in on the morning we met to have some tests done, just to be sure of the risks. I was diagnosed with a benign tumor the same day you told me you loved me for the first time. I wasn’t worried then; I’d done so much research on cancer and because Doctor Sullivan said my chances were so slim, I didn’t think it would ever come to this. When I received this letter I knew that our time was limited. I tried to stay happy for you, I tried to be normal; but I got so tired so fast and the bruises started showing up, and it became harder and harder to hide it from you.

“I was actually thankful for that fight because it gave me an excuse to leave. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that leaving you and breaking it off would be better; that it wouldn’t hurt you as much. I was selfish and it wasn’t fair of me to do that to you. I never thought that I could love someone so much and I’m just… I’m so scared. I’m not ready for this, Jack. I’m not ready to say goodbye—”

He pulled her into his arms quickly and held her as they both cried. Distantly, he heard the door close and the tires crunching the snow covered driveway as Frankie pulled away. The feel of having Natalie back in his arms, of hearing her voice and smelling the sugar cookie perfume on her skin and clothes, meant the world to him. He buried his face against her neck, trailing soft kisses all over the soft skin. She buried her fingers in his hair and after a moment, he pulled back and looked at her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Natalie. Through thick and thin, I’ll always be here. I’m going to hold your hand through all of this. I swear to you.” He kissed her lips quickly and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you so much.”

She sniffed. He could feel her body relaxing into his as she moved to rest her head against his shoulder. “How much?”

He smiled. “More than the stars love the sky.”

They sat on the couch all night, just as they had the night they fell in love.

***

Two years passed by quickly and without a sound. Jack and Natalie shared a nice life together. Not long after Natalie’s return and the reveal of her cancer, the two were happily wed and had a very nice, very…sensual honeymoon in a little home out in the countryside of Tuscany, Italy. They saw all the sights, enjoyed countless different wines, and enjoyed every bite of delicious food they could. Natalie was certain she gained at least five pounds their first night. But if she did, they worked it off when they got back to the house.

There was a little sadness when the time came at the beginning of the first year that Natalie realized she wanted kids but knew she couldn’t. Jack had to comfort her often and though he wished he could have done something, the only things he could offer were his arms and love. She would watch the kids playing in the summer, laugh with them when they played in the snow, and held onto them whenever a cousin or friend had one of their own. Some nights were especially difficult because even sex became too painful to endure. Natalie withdrew into a shell like she had before but, after a few days of effort, Jack managed to make her really smile again.

The time of happiness and hope came when Doctor Sullivan told her she’d entered remission after months of chemotherapy. By then, she’d lost all of her hair and was nauseous and fatigued all the time. The news, however, made up for it. That night, because the pain had let up, they made love like they’d never made love before. To Jack it was like getting back the woman he fell in love with; to Natalie, it was a new chance at life and love.

At the very end of the first year, they were blessed with a miracle. Natalie became pregnant. It was a difficult pregnancy, but she loved every minute of it. Her favorite moments, ones she never let Jack miss out on, were when the baby moved. She would call to Jack from another room in the house and he’d come running just to place his hand on her ever swelling belly and feel their child move within her. It was a blessing; one that he would always cherish. Nine months later, in the record freezing month of November, Natalie gave birth to a six pound, twelve ounce baby girl. They named her Anabelle Hope and loved her with all their hearts.

Two months later, they were called in to speak with Doctor Sullivan during one of many follow-ups. They walked into the office—a sterile white room with little decoration other than a desk covered with papers and several picture frames of the doctor with his family—and sat in the uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk. After a moment of unusual silence, Jack began to feel uncomfortable. Natalie squeezed his hand and that’s when he knew she was just as worried as he was.

“Thank you for coming in. How is Anabelle doing?” The gray haired doctor was trying his hardest to seem interested in their daughter, but Jack could see through it. Something was wrong.

“She’s doing very well. She’s probably one of the most well behaved babies I’ve ever met. She hardly ever cries and she eats well.”

“That’s good to hear.” He smiled at them and then looked down at the chart in front of him. His brow furrowed and he looked unhappy for a moment. “I called you in because of some test results we got back from the lab yesterday evening. It’s not easy to say,” Natalie squeezed Jack’s hand even tighter. “But the cancer has returned.”

Jack felt the hope and happiness drain out of Natalie like a blow to the stomach. He held her hand tightly and tried his hardest to keep his tears in check. “Is there anything you—we—can do? Would chemo work again?”

“It is possible. But the stage of cancer has changed as well. It has progressed to stage four; meaning it is now in her liver, lungs, and abdominal cavity. We could do a procedure that would, possibly, remove the tumors, but chances of success and survival are very slim…”

Jack looked over at Natalie. Doctor Sullivan’s words began to fade into static as he saw the horror on his wife’s face. She looked so healthy, so alive. Why was this happening to them? To her?

It was then, looking at her face, seeing the lack of life in her eyes as if she were already dead, that he knew he would lose her. There were few precious moments left and any one of them could be her last; any one moment could be their last. He touched a hand to her cheek and bade her to look at him. In one look he remembered every second they’d ever spent together. All the warm nights, all the laughs, the tears, the happiness, the arguments…every moment, no matter how small or big, was worth having spent it with her.

They tried chemotherapy again, but there was no luck; no remission.

On April seventeenth, 2013, just four months after the cancer came back, Natalie Christian passed away.

And so, five years later, Jack stared at the picture on the dressing table, looking into her eyes and wishing she were there to wipe away his tears, to make him smile, to tell their little girl how much she loved her…but all they had left were pictures and memories.

A knock sounded on the door along with the sound of a tiny voice. “Daddy?” He hurried to wipe his tears and watched as his Anabelle came in the room. Her hair was as dark as her mother’s, her skin just as fair, and her eyes just as green. He swore up and down that the only thing she got from him was his music preferences. “Why do you look so sad?”

He smiled painfully. “Missing mommy.”

She nodded and pulled herself up onto the bed next to him. “What was she like?”

“A lot like you. She laughed a lot, there was always a smile on her face… and she was very creative.”

“Did she like to color, too?”

He smiled at her and pulled her onto his lap. “She loved to color; almost as much as she loved you.”

She smiled widely. “How did you and mommy meet?”

“Oh, that’s a long story, sweetheart. It’s almost time for bed.”

“Please tell me, daddy?”

He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes for effect. “Oh, all right. But, you have to put on your pajamas first.” Gathering her up in his arms and cradling her close to his chest, he stood and carried her into her room. She laughed the whole way, especially when he tickled her sides and blew a raspberry on her stomach. When her laughter died down and she was clothed in her favorite Disney princess nightgown, he tucked her in and lay down next to her. She cuddled up next to him, nestling her little head on his chest the same way Natalie used to.

With a gentle smile, Jack placed an arm around his daughter and began their story.