Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)(4)

My darling Michael, I know this letter will come as a shock to you and I apologize for that. It's been a year now and I imagine it's been a difficult one for you, as well as our parents and Ritchie. I would've given anything to have spared you this grief.

Even on the verge of death, Hannah didn't think of herself. Instead, she was thinking of me, our parents and her brother and how terribly we missed her and how deeply we'd loved her.

For the past few weeks I've been giving serious thought to what I wanted to say and what my last words to you would be. Please bear with me as I have quite a lot on my mind.

I know people laugh when they hear about love at first sight. I was only eighteen when we met, and young as I was, I knew instantly that you were the man I was going to love...and I have, from that moment forward. I will love you until the day I die and beyond. And in my heart I know you'll love me, too. I want to thank you for loving me. Your devotion to me through everything I've undergone since the cancer was diagnosed has been the greatest gift of my life. You have made me so happy, Michael.

I closed my eyes again, fearing I didn't have the emotional strength to continue. I knew when Ritchie handed me this letter that reading it would be hard, but I didn't know

how hard it was going to be. I dragged in a deep breath and went on. The early years of our marriage were some of the most wonderful days of my life. We had so little, and yet all we needed was each other. I loved you so much and was...am so proud of you, of the caring pediatrician you've become. You were born to be a physician, Michael. And I was born to love you. Thank you for loving me back, for giving so much of yourself to me, especially during these past few months. You made them the very best months of my life.

I don't want to die, Michael. I fought this, I honestly did. I gave it everything in me. Nothing would have made me happier than to grow old with you. I'm so sorry that, for me, the end has to come so soon.

Please don't ever believe I had a defeatist attitude. When we first got the diagnosis, I was determined to fight this and win. It's just in the past week that I've come to realize that this cancer is bigger than I am. There's no use pretending otherwise.

I had to stop reading a second time, regretting once more my insistence that Hannah travel to Europe for the experimental treatment I'd wanted her to receive. It'd been far too late by then. I took a moment to compose myself, then went back to her letter.

I've asked Ritchie to give you this a year after my death. Knowing you as well as I do, I suspect you've buried yourself in work. My guess is that you spend twelve hours a day at the office, eating on the run. That isn't a healthy lifestyle, my darling. I do hope you're still meeting Ritchie at the gym three times a week. I smiled. Yes, Hannah knew everything about me. Right down to the long hours and skipped meals. I'd tried to quit my exercise regime, too, just like I'd dropped Thursday-night poker with the guys. But Ritchie wouldn't let me. It became easier to show up than to find an excuse.

Two weeks after Hannah's funeral he arrived on my doorstep in his workout clothes and dragged me back to the gym. A couple of early-morning calls from my brotherin-law, and I decided I couldn't fend him off anymore, so our workout became part of my routine once again.

This next section of my letter is the most painful for me to write. Although it hurts, I have to accept that there's no hope now. I suppose it's only natural when facing one's mortality that regrets surface, along with the knowledge that the end is close. The greatest of those regrets is my inability to have children. This is harder for me than even the discovery that my cancer is terminal. I so badly wanted your baby, Michael. A child for my sake, yes, but yours, too. You should be a father. You will be a wonderful father. Oh, Michael, I so wanted a child. Once more I was forced to stop reading as a lump formed in my throat. "I wanted a child, too," I whispered. I rested the letter on my knee and wondered if I could finish without giving in to the weakness of tears. And yet I had to read on. I had to know Hannah's last wordstome.

I have one final request of you, my darling, and I hope you will honor it.

"Anything." I would do anything for Hannah.

What I want, what I need from you, is this, my dearest love. I want you to marry again. I gasped. No way! I'd already thought about this, and I couldn't do it. I'd had the love of my life and I'd be foolish to believe it could happen twice. If I did remarry, I'd be cheating the new woman I pledged to love. I'd be cheating us both because my heart would always belong to Hannah and only to Hannah.

I can see you shaking your head, insisting it isn't possible. Michael, I know you. I can almost hear your protests. But this is important, so please, please listen. Loving another woman won't diminish the love we had. Nor does it mean you'll love me any less. I will always be a part of you and you will remain a part of me.

The thing you must remember is that my life's journey is over.

Yours isn't.

You have a lot of living left to do and I don't want you to waste another moment grieving for me. You made me completely happy, and you'll make another woman equally so. I wasn't sure I agreed with Hannah, wasn't sure I was capable of loving another woman, not with the same intensity, the same depth. She didn't understand what she was asking of me. I had no desire for another woman, no desire to share my life with anyone else ever again.

Knowing how stubborn you are, I realize you're going to require a bit of help, so I've compiled a short list of candidates for you to consider.