It was a scary thought.
Terrifying actually, to imagine a world where people like Andi — where Andi herself — didn't exist.
Andi
I LOOKED UP AT THE HUGE BUILDING
and grinned. "You, my dear husband, are a brilliant, scary man."
Sergio gripped my hand tighter. I let out a breathy sigh because, well, he was wearing the tight jeans I'd picked out for him and the black long-sleeved sweater that hugged every single muscle he possessed.
It helped that he'd finished the look with a pair of D&G aviators.
They should be illegal on a guy that sexy.
He looked like a walking sexy-man commercial. You know, if those existed.
"You ready to do this?" He released my hand and moved his fingertips to the small of my back. "I mean, if you're scared we can go back."
I took a deep breath. "But we're already here."
"True."
"And it's important that I face my fears."
"Also true." He chuckled. "So what will it be, little Russia? You gonna run home with your tail between your legs? Or are you gonna play?"
"I may get hurt."
"Yup."
"You could get hurt."
"Yup."
"We could die trying."
"Yup."
"Are you just going to keep saying yup?"
He paused then shrugged. "Yup."
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, we're doing this."
He checked his watch. "We've got two hours to burn before family dinner."
"And if we show up all bloody and sweaty?"
Sergio took off his sunglasses and winked. "It's family dinner. How else do you think we show up? Holding hands and singing 'Kumbaya?'"
"Valid point."
"You first." He gently pushed me forward.
"But—"
"Come on, Andi," He tugged my body back against his ripped stomach. "Where's your sense of adventure, oh hippo trainer?"
"I said I wanted to meet a hippo not train one."
"Chickening out?"
"No." I kept staring at the entrance to the building. "Okay, fine. But how is this even possible if I've never been trained?"
Sergio gripped my hand again. "You haven't been trained. I have." With that, he tugged me toward the door.
I tried to dig my heels into the cement. It didn't work.
Fifteen minutes later, I was signing a consent form that basically said if I died, I couldn't sue the company.
I felt the need to point out that if I was dead, I wouldn't be able to sue in the first place.
Sergio coughed up a laugh then slid our papers forward to the old man, who may or may not have been blind. I couldn't tell on account he refused to take off his sunglasses and hadn't uttered one word to me other than "Name, date, sign."
"You taking her?" The old man sniffed loudly. "Or you want me to get one of the guys?"
I wasn't at all comfortable with the way Sergio grinned in my direction. "I think I'll take her."
"Think?" I repeated weakly.
"Come on." He tugged me back outside.
A guy who looked about my age waltzed toward us. "Been a long time, Sergio."
"Oh gosh." I was going to puke. "You're taking me, and it's been a long time?"
"Chill." The guy laughed. "It's not like you forget how to jump out of a plane. Just make sure to check your equipment so you don't go splat. Clean up's a bitch."
I felt all blood drain from my face.
"We're on our honeymoon." Sergio wrapped his arm around me and squeezed tightly. "Aren't we, sugar pants?"
Oh? Little Italy wanted to play? I could dig that. "Sure are…" I pinched his ass. "…Mr. Big."
Sergio let out a strangled cough while I placed my hand on his chest. "He's a huge
Sex and the City
fan. Refuses to let me call him anything other than that… for…" I looked down at his tight jeans then cupped him with my hand. "…obvious reasons, though it seems just about anything excites him these days, huh, baby?"
Sergio gritted his teeth. "Whatever you say, baby."
I fought back a laugh, removing my hand.
He squeezed my ass, nearly bruising me in the process.
"Whoa, you guys have one of those… fifty-shades relationships?" The guy took a step back and nodded admiringly.
"What can I say?" I shrugged. "My man likes whips."
"Okay." Sergio gripped me by the shoulders and steered me toward the plane. "Get everything ready, Tom. I'm just going to go over the basics with her before we take off."
"Cool." He walked off.
I watched him, my brow furrowing the more I watched. "He's like ten years old."
"Twenty-three."
"He's flying a plane."
"That's typically what pilots do."
I pointed at him. "He can't even grow facial hair."
Sergio rolled his eyes. "And you know that how?"
"I bet he still drinks milk before bed."
"Andi, stop stalling, and follow me. We have to pack the chutes."
I needed a paper bag or something to breathe into.
"You know…" My knees felt weak, and this time it wasn't because I was having dizzy spells or my cancer was being a bitch; it was because real live fear was beginning to boil in my chest. "…we don't have to do this. When I wrote down that I wanted to jump out of something scary, I meant like… a car."
"A car?" Sergio turned, his smile mocking. "Really?"
"Yeah, like a really old car, one that was perhaps missing an engine and a steering wheel, making it so we had to roll it down a hill and just take our chances by hopping out."
"You're doing this." Sergio grabbed one large, black pack-thing and pulled a chute out of it. "I always fold my own chute. Never trust someone else to keep you safe."
"Good life lesson."
"You pack your own chute even if the person swears they did it right because you know you the best. Got it?"
I nodded numbly, watching as he took special care in making sure the chute wasn't torn. His fingers ran over every part of the material. I shivered.
He had nice hands.
They were soft, strong, not too rough, but really masculine at the same time.
"You cold?" Sergio asked without looking up.
"Um, no."
"Mm-kay." My eyes followed his hands as they moved the parachute, folding it, and then shoving it into the pack. "We're good to go."
"But I haven't learned anything."
Sergio glanced up at me, his eyes clear, so bright and blue that I let out a little gasp. "Do you trust me?"
Yeah. I really did. He may not particularly like me, but he'd protect me, he'd said as much. He would never let anything happen to me. So I gripped his outstretched hand and managed a weak "Yes."
"Great." His smile was easygoing — not dark or irritated. "Then all the training you need is to trust me and hold on tight while I take care of us and give you one of your honeymoon wishes."
It felt like mere minutes before we were up in the air, and I was in some sort of weird suit, getting strapped to Sergio.
I was shaking so hard I thought I was going to puke.
"You're Russian," Sergio whispered hotly in my ear. "Don't embarrass your country."
"Easy for you to say." My teeth chattered. "You've actually done this before."
"No, he hasn't," the pilot called back.
My eyes widened.
Sergio burst out laughing. I hadn't heard his laugh often, but it was deep, sensual. I leaned closer to his body. "He's kidding."
"Hilarious." I flipped off the pilot behind my back. He probably didn't see me, but I felt a lot better knowing I'd shown my irritation.
"At altitude," the pilot called.
Sergio pulled the goggles over my face.
My back was pressed against his front. Everything was snug. I could feel his body heat. I wondered if he could feel my heart rate going off the charts.
"You ready?" Sergio yelled above the noise as the door to the airplane opened.
"No." My teeth chattered.
"Trust me," Sergio called. "Alright?"
I had no choice but to nod my head back.
"Jump when you're ready, Andi."
"But…" I couldn't turn around. "…shouldn't you jump?"
"I'm attached to you. Jump, Andi."
"But—"
"It's your choice… to jump. It has to be your choice, Andi."
I was empowered in that moment. I'd never been in control of anything in my life, and he was offering me a small part of it.
A small part.
But it was there.
All I had to do was jump.
So I did.
My breath rushed out of me as air hit my face, making it hard to breathe and think all at once.
It was loud.
So loud that I knew even if Sergio was saying something to me, I probably wouldn't be able to hear him.
I tried to enjoy the scenery of Chicago.
I closed my eyes and then spread my arms out wide, like I was flying. My face broke out into a grin as I opened my eyes and felt, for maybe the first time in my life, completely free.
We fell.
My smile turned into laughter.
And then I felt movement behind me. The chute was pulled; it tugged our bodies hard, nearly hanging me in the process.
The rest of the ride was smooth. Sergio didn't say anything as I continued flapping my arms like a crazy person. Laughter bubbled out of me once we hit the ground.
And it was like, in that moment, reality came crashing down.
I wasn't free.
I wouldn't be free until I was dead.
In those brief moments, Sergio had given me all I'd ever wanted — but had never been brave enough to admit.
Freedom from the thoughts of sickness.
Freedom from the thoughts of death.
Freedom from my physical body reminding me that it was soon.
My laughs quickly turned into sobs as Sergio unhooked us. I fell to my knees, tears dripping onto the ground, mixing with the dirt and grass.
Sergio didn't yell at me.
He didn't tell me to get up.
No, my husband, the man I wasn't even sure I liked most of the time, sat with me in the dirt, and pulled my body into the protection of his chest and let me cry.
We sat there for at least fifteen minutes.
He didn't say anything — then again, he didn't need to. He held me, he let me cry, and when I didn't think I had any tears left, Sergio tilted my chin toward his face and whispered, "You're the bravest person I know."
Nobody had ever called me brave before.
He may as well have said he loved me for the impact his words had on my life, on my very soul. I tried to avert my eyes.
He didn't let me.
Sergio brought his mouth to mine. And kissed me.
Not because he was pissed.
Or because it was on my stupid honeymoon list.
But… I think… because he wanted to.
And I let him — because in that moment I realized one thing. I more than liked him. I was on my way to loving him — the way he fought with me, the way he teased, the way he let me be me without any judgment.
The way we lived — in a constant battleground.
"You did good, Russia," he said when he pulled back.
"The kiss?" I teased.
"The jump…" He rolled his eyes then kissed me again. "But for the record… this was good too." His tongue licked the seam of my lips before pulling back. "Family dinner?"
I nodded, my face felt sticky from crying.
We held hands the entire walk back to the building.
Sergio
HER TEARS SCARED ME.
Because they represented what I already knew. She hadn't fully grieved or come to terms with what was happening to her — what was going to happen.
I respected her positivity.
Hell, I respected her in general.
But I knew, as the days progressed, I'd probably see more tears as life continued to spin out of control for both of us.
I was on the same ride as her. Selfishly, it felt more painful because I was powerless to stop anything.
I could hold her hand.
Kiss her tears.
But in the end that's all I had, and it sucked.
My mind went back to the phone call in the hospital. Tex had yet to get back to me, but that didn't necessarily mean anything good or bad.
Family dinner would at least take my mind off the emotional day. By the time we arrived at Nixon's, Andi was back to her usual self. She even had a marker and was going through the list that she'd somehow confiscated from its hiding place in my office.
Just thinking about my office made my vision flash to the black folder. What if she read it? What if she found out secrets about me even I didn't want to know? And why the hell did I care?
"Origami," she announced. "That's next."
"The hell it is!" I shouted. "How is that even honeymoon-related?"
"You're rich," she stated. "Therefore, our honeymoon wouldn't have stopped at the African safari."
"Oh?" Her reasoning was exhausting. I pulled into the driveway and shut off the car.
"Japan." She nodded confidently. "You would have taken me to Japan, and how can you go to Japan and not learn the art of origami?"
"I'm not folding paper."
"You are."
"Not."
"Are…" Andi unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the console. She unbuckled mine and trailed her fingers slowly up my stomach.
"Seduction?" My eyebrows arched. "Isn't that a bit above your usual tactics?"
"You kissed me, therefore I figured it would probably work this time…"
Damn her. "You may have a point."
"After origami, we can bake."
"I hate to ask…" I groaned. "…but why the hell do we have to bake a cake?"
"Because when I did my Internet search, almost every single honeymoon couple goes to those all-inclusive resorts where they teach you how to bake, but learning how to grill a fish is stupid. Who doesn't know how to make salmon?"
I wanted to point out that I'd probably have to look it up online but kept my mouth shut, knowing Andi she'd just add it to the list of honeymoon activities.
"But cakes? Muffins? Chocolate? Come on, that's way more fun. Besides, I've always wanted to be a cake boss."
"How about you just pick one or the other?"