Chapter 27
The next few years were quiet.
Peaceful.
The kind of years you dream about when you’re young and struggling.
Ethan and I spent our days in the garden.
On the porch swing.
In each other’s arms.
We still made love.
Still held hands everywhere we went.
Still told each other we loved each other every single day.
People always asked us the secret to a long, happy marriage.
We always gave the same answer.
“Marry your best friend. And never go to bed angry. And always say you’re sorry. Even when you’re not.”
It worked for us.
Thirty-nine years and counting.
Liam graduated from college.
Got a job as a civil engineer.
Married his high school sweetheart.
They had a daughter.
Named her Elena.
After her grandmother.
I cried when I held her.
My first great-grandchild.
Four generations now.
Amazing.
Sophia graduated from Parsons.
Top of her class.
Moved back to Chicago.
Started her own firm.
Just like I had.
Just like Elena had.
She was going to be bigger than all of us.
I could tell.
She had the fire.
The talent.
The drive.
And she had something I’d never had at her age.
A family who supported her completely.
Who loved her unconditionally.
Who would never betray her.
Never steal from her.
Never hurt her.
She had a safety net I’d never known.
And that made all the difference.
Diego’s son Gustavo became a cop.
Just like his grandfather.
Well… not exactly like Dad.
Dad had been FBI.
Gustavo was Chicago PD.
But same spirit.
Same desire to protect and serve.
Same strong sense of justice.
Dad would have been proud.
I turned seventy-eight.
Ethan was eighty-one.
We were slowing down now.
Our steps were a little shorter.
Our eyesight a little worse.
Our hearing not what it used to be.
But our love?
That was as strong as ever.
Stronger, actually.
Because we knew our time was limited.
We cherished every moment.
Every touch.
Every kiss.
Every morning we woke up together.
We celebrated our fortieth wedding anniversary in the backyard.
Small party.
Just immediate family.
Ethan gave me a new ring.
Sapphire and diamonds.
To match the one he’d given me forty years earlier.
“I’d marry you all over again,” he said. “In a heartbeat. Without a single change.”
I cried.
Of course I cried.
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
That night, we lay in bed together.
Holding each other.
Just like we’d done a thousand nights before.
“Mari,” Ethan said softly.
“Hmm?”
“I love you more than anything in this world. More than my own life. You know that, right?”
“I know. I love you too, Ethan. More than words.”
He squeezed me tighter.
“Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“If I go first… don’t be sad for too long. Live your life. Be with the family. Be happy. I’ll be waiting for you. And I’ll be in no hurry. Take all the time you need.”
I kissed his chest.
“I promise. But you’re not going anywhere. Not yet. We’ve got at least ten more years. Remember? We’re making it to one hundred and ten.”
He laughed softly.
“Right. One hundred and ten. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
But I felt it.
In the way his breathing was a little more labored.
In the way he tired more easily.
In the way his hand shook sometimes when he held his coffee.
Our time was running out.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Nothing anyone could do.
All I could do was love him.
Every single day we had left.
Hold him a little tighter.
Kiss him a little longer.
Tell him I loved him a little more often.
Because that was all any of us could do.
May you like
Love each other while we had the chance.
Because you never knew when the chance would be gone.
