Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(61)

“So are you.”

He stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and he cupped my cheek tenderly. Bending down, his lips brushed mine ever so briefly. “I couldn’t let another second go by before I did that.” He smiled against my cheek.

“Are you ever going to tell me what we’re doing?”

His hands curved around my waist, and I felt his smile grow wider. He pulled back, and I saw the excitement and anticipation in his eyes.

“Not yet. First, we are going to eat dinner.”

“Like this?” I asked, looking down at our formal attire.

“Don’t worry. No trays for you tonight.” He ran back to the door, opening it briefly to reach for something on the other side. He came back with a picnic basket. “We’re having a picnic,” he declared.

“Number eighty-two.” I remembered a night not too long ago when I’d told him a few new dreams and wishes from my list, which included having a picnic.

“I’m trying to knock a couple off that list tonight.”

He’d thought of everything, and he’d brought enough food to feed the entire floor. We sat on my bed, enjoying fruit, gourmet sandwiches, and even pudding.

“This is much better than snack packs,” I commented, dipping my spoon into the container we were sharing.

“You don’t like my snack packs?” he joked, looking wounded.

“No, I love your snack packs. This is just different. It’s like what a snack pack could be, if it wanted to be.”

He stared at me blankly. “Why do I think that had nothing to do with desserts?”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about you and the stuff going on with your family. Are you really not going to do anything?”

“No,” he said firmly.

“Do you miss it?”

“What?”

“That part of your life and using that part of yourself—the analytic, brainy side that can’t possibly be happy with checking bedpans and taking vitals all day.”

“Sometimes, I guess,” he answered honestly. “I was good at it, but money always came first. I can’t go back to that.”

“Don’t you think they’d listen to you? Especially now?” I asked.

He stared off into the distance and finally shook his head. “I have no desire to go back,” he said, looking back at me. “I have everything I need right here.”

“No peeking!” Jude laughed as he pulled me out of the wheelchair the hospital had insisted I use.

The mint green fabric of my dress had been tucked neatly underneath me as the wheels creaked along the worn linoleum. We’d gone down several floors in the elevator and passed through many different hallways—all the while, with Jude’s large hands firmly planted over my eyes.

“I don’t think I could if I tried!”

“Good. Now, just a little bit further. We’re almost there. Okay, I’m going to take my hands away. Don’t open your eyes yet.”

I heard a door swing open, and the booming sound of music immediately poured out.

“Okay, stand up, and take my hand, but keep your eyes closed.” His firm grip closed around mine as he guided me, and then his arms reached around my waist from behind. “Now, open your eyes,” he whispered in my ear.

My eyelids fluttered open, and I immediately noticed we were in a low-lit room. Multicolored balloons and streamers lined the ceiling. A large group of people were dancing in the center of the room, and tables were off to the side with drinks and food.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s your prom,” he said, pointing to a banner near the ceiling.

The Someday Prom, the banner boasted in large loopy script.

Emotions so deep that I couldn’t describe them poured through me. I turned around and flung myself into his arms as tears made their way down my cheeks. “Thank you.”

I didn’t care if it all ended that very moment. We could never even make it to the dance floor, and I didn’t think I would ever feel happier.

In all my days of sitting in that hospital bed—wondering why me, why had I been selected to have this burden, to be given this life—I never expected such amazing things were going to happen to me.

“How did you manage to do this? I don’t know what to say,” I said, looking around. I started to recognize several nurses and staff from the cardiology unit.

“Don’t cry,” he said, giving a small smile, as he gently wiped away the tears. “Dance with me?”

I nodded, and he pulled me to the small group of people in the center. I recognized Grace with a guy who must have been her fiancé. She gave me a wink as she placed her head on his broad shoulder.

I went into Jude’s embrace and let him lead us as a new song began. John Legend’s “All of Me” played as we swayed back and forth, and I listened to Jude hum the melody in my ear.

“Have I mentioned that you look beautiful today?” he said softly.

“Jude,” I said, turning away, as I felt the blush beginning to burn.

He didn’t need to do this.

“No, look at me,” he demanded, turning my chin up until my eyes met his sizzling gaze. “You are stunning. I don’t say this because I pity you or want you to feel normal. I say this because it’s the truth. If I saw you anywhere else, I would think the exact same thing.”