When You're Mine (MINE #3)(36)

“I can’t do this,” I told him.

His eyes searched mine. “Can’t do what?”

“Us. There’s no happy ending here, Barrett.”

Straightening his spine, he clenched his jaw. “Yeah, because you’re too afraid to face shit.”

“No… because I know the outcome. I’ve lived it. And I refuse to put a child through it.”

Barrett dropped his head with a shake before lifting his eyes back to mine. “I had no idea what living truly meant before you. I feel alive for the first time in my life and you want to take that away from me.” He placed a trembling hand over my belly, pain shooting sharp and endless in my chest. “I’ll take care of you. Both of you. We’ll get through it together, just don’t take this away from me.”

I had so many emotions at war inside my head, inside my heart. Words clogged my throat while tears stabbed my eyes. I rolled away from him, desperate to be alone, desperate for the pain to go away.

Desperate for…

“Goodbye, Barrett,”

After a few excruciating minutes, I heard the door open then close, leaving me to drown in a river of shame and regret. He deserved so much more than this, than me, than f*cking cancer. I cried myself to sleep knowing that person would never be me.



My father’s warm hand held my sweaty one as we sat facing the doctor. This was it.

Moment of truth.

I was terrified. I threw up twice this morning, remembering what my mother had gone through in the days leading up to her death. She’d fought for every last breath and I was certain that would be my fate. Looking straight at the doctor, I watched her mouth move. There were so many words coming out, but I only searched for one, discarding all others. Finally…

“Benign.”

Air fled from my mouth, escaping the tortured prison of my lungs. My father pulled me in for a hug, his body shaking with relieved tears as he whispered Thank God over and over. Tears streamed down my face, as I breathed in the first few breaths of a second chance.

My father’s watery eyes found mine. “Thank God.”

He’d spent every second of the last two weeks with me, going to every doctor’s appointment, voicing the questions I was too afraid to ask. Terrified of what those answers might be. We spent night after night talking, sharing memories of my mother. Ones I’d long forgotten or couldn’t remember because I was too young or time had stolen from me. He told me about the day I was born. How my mother cried when she saw my shock of red hair. He shared what it was like between them before I was born. How they met and how they fell in love. Once they were married, she’d wanted children right away. But he selfishly convinced her to wait so they could have more time to themselves. I could see the regret he’d carried with him for so long now.

“If I hadn’t been so selfish, you would have had more time with her.”

We laughed a lot, cried a lot, and shared a lot. Even though everything else in my life was a complete and utter mess, I had my dad back.

After the doctor went over a few other concerns, ones I paid very close attention to, we scheduled my next appointment and went to lunch.

“When do you have to leave?” I asked, my heart heavy with sadness at the thought of him going away.

“I can stay as long as you want.” His eyes were so warm and sincere.

“I know you need to get back. I think I can take it from here, especially after today.”

Cocking his head, his brows furrowed with concern. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Leaning forward, he settled his arms on the table in front of him. “I spent a lot of years alone Tabitha, and I can tell you those were some of the most miserable years of my life.”

Yeah, mine too.

“God knows I haven’t been the best father. I’ve been selfish and cruel and there is no excuse for the way I treated you, but you found it in your heart to forgive me. I’m certain if you talk to him, he could find it in his heart to forgive you, too.” I wasn’t so sure. Everything between us had been ruined and it was all my fault. I hadn’t spoken to him since the day I turned my back on him. When I arrived home from the hospital, he was gone. Part of me wished he would have fought harder, but the other part knew after what I’d put him through, even I wouldn’t have fought for what was left. “Your mother was a fighter. Even when she knew the battle had been lost, she still fought with everything she had.” I swiped a runaway tear from my cheek. “You’re strong enough to do this on your own, but the truth is, we all need someone, sweetheart,” His hand covered mine. “Even me.”

A tiny bubble of hope filled in my chest. Could I win him back? Would he forgive me? Or simply turn his back on me the same way I did him.





Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.

~ Voltaire





Birds chirped, singing their early morning song as I sat in my rocking chair on my deck, thinking about the weeks to come. Was I prepared for this? Could I do it all on my own? I still wasn’t sure, but the fight in me had been restored. There was no denying that. My father left a few days ago, promising to return next for my appointment. I still hadn’t found the nerve to talk to Barrett. Dipping my chin, I inhaled the faint scent still lingering on one of his shirts he’d left behind. The shirt and the sapphire hanging around my neck were the only two things I had left of him. I placed a trembling hand over my belly.