The air was sweetened with oranges. The sky glowed blue and orange with the occasional cloud. We were together, him and me. I asked him to take a walk with me to where we first met.
That was three years ago. I was picking oranges and fell about to hit the earth, when he swooped in and caught me. His arms were bare and sticky as he cradled me, but that, that’s a whole other story.
His sandy hair fell perfectly over his sun kissed skin. His emerald eyes sparkled with a never ending light. He guided me to a shady tree with two names scribbled at the base. I let my hand fall over our names and took a sharp deep breath. I turned to look at him. He looked troubled like he has an urge to say something he can’t.
“I have… I am…I was diagnosed with leukemia.” I stuttered. He said nothing, so I continued,” I’m on stage four and…and won’t make it.” His eyes showed great sorrow and a single tear strolled down my cheek. He cupped my cheek with his hand and grabbed a small velvet box with the other.
“First, marry me.” He tried to smile, but it was replaced with a deep sadness. I couldn’t help myself, I started to cry. I shook my head yes, knowing there was no other answer.
But there was no wedding. I never got to say good bye. I never got to say I Do. I died peacefully in his strong arms that night. and all that was on my mind was,
I Do.
