and you changed my life. Without you, I would be less than a man,

because that fist-sized thing that beats in my chest,

only beats because of you.

I love all the pieces of you with all the pieces of me.

Forever yours,

Drew

I hug his note to my chest and smile. Thinking back to that day, I laugh a little because I thought he was so old. He was twenty-seven then and I called him Smokin’ Hot. And he was. And still is.

“Flowers, huh?” A voice says over my shoulder.

I turn to see my boss, Joseph, standing there.

“Yeah. They’re from my husband.”

“He likes to spoil you, I see.”

I beam. “He sure does.”

Joseph smiles and then moves toward his office. I’m in a cubicle the size of a shoebox. There are about two dozen on this floor. When I stand, I have a perfect view of the cubicle sea.

After Joseph leaves, I hear, “So, Drew sent you flowers. What’s the occasion?”

It’s my cube neighbor, Nan. I like to call her Nosy Nan. She knows everything that goes on here, and then some. I hug Drew’s note tighter to my chest, afraid she’ll be able to read it with X-ray vision or something.

“No occasion. He’s just attentive.”

“If I could be so lucky,” she sighs.

I wonder if her luck, or lack of it, has anything to do with the fact that she sticks her nose into everybody’s business. I can already hear Drew telling me to be nice, so I switch my thoughts back to the audit I’m working on.

My phone buzzes. It’s Drew texting me.

Drew: Happy Anniversary!

Me: Thanks for the flowers. They’re magnifigorgeous.

Drew: That’s not a word, Cate.

Me: It is now.

Drew: You like?

Me: Nope. I LOVE!

Drew: Score! How about dinner tonight? FIG?

Me: Time?

Drew: Right after work to save us a drive. 6:30?

Me: Perf. LOVE YOU <3

Drew: LOVE LOVE YOU!

Dinner is awesome. But it always is at FIG, one of my favorite restaurants downtown. That night when we get home, I think the flowers were sent to seduce me, because Drew doesn’t even give me a chance to get in the house.

He opens my car door, and kisses me. The silk blouse I wear magically disappears. My bra gets unhooked by the time we hit the door, and the kitchen counter becomes our bed. He doesn’t give me time to think, only feel. His hands and mouth are magic, but they always are. By the time we both come, our breathing sounds like we just ran home instead of drove.

All of a sudden, Drew gets hit with a coughing spell. It’s unusual and I become alarmed. Of course, anything that happens to Drew alarms me. He could stub his pinky toe and I’d freak. He accuses me of being too overprotective, but that’s what happens when the man you love has been through a bout with cancer.

He finally stops, but his eyes are watery and his nose runs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it was a wicked tickle in my throat. Maybe it’s ragweed allergies, or something.”

I hope it’s the ragweed and not the or something. “Maybe. Want some water?”

“No, I’m good now.”

It starts to happen off and on. Not a whole lot, but enough to send up a warning signal. It’s about three weeks after the first episode, and I say, “Do you think you should talk to your doctor?”

He sighs. “My next round of scans is next week.”

“Your next round of scans?”

“Yeah. They always do a six-month follow up after everything. Mine are next week.”

I swallow. “And you were going to tell me, when?”

He stands and moves to sit next to me. He takes my hands and says, “I was going to tell you next week, Cate. I didn’t want you to get your panties… unders in a wad over this. It’s going to be fine.”

“Drew, we’re in this together. I’m going with you.”

I see him reach for patience. “Cate, all you’ll do is sit and wait.”

“I don’t care. I’m going with you. I think you’re missing something out of this equation here. You plus me equals us. No arguing.”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“What kinds of scans?”

“Bone and PET.”

“What day?”

“Wednesday.”

“Okay. I’ll tell Joseph.”

On Wednesday, we have the scans. The waiting is the worst. Only we find out really fast because of Drew’s position at the hospital. The news isn’t good. There’s a reason for the cough. We sit across from the head oncologist in Drew’s department. He shuffles the papers and looks up at us.

“Drew, Cate, I’m sorry. You have mets to the right lung.”

I don’t know that means. “Mets to the lung?”

Drew squeezes my hand. He sounds weary when he says, “It’s metastasized to my lung, Cate.”

Fuck! The lung? “How did that happen? I thought it was gone?”

The oncologist, Dr. Rosenberg leans forward and says, “Unfortunately, Cate, it only takes one cell to break away and that’s what happened in Drew’s case.”

“So now what?” I ask.

“We have Drew up for our tumor board on Friday. Drew, do you want to attend?”

“Yes, since it’s my treatment plan you’ll be discussing.”

Dr. Rosenberg shifts in his seat, then glances at me.

“Just say it. I’m in this as much as he is.”

Dr. Rosenberg presses his lips together for a minute. “Drew, you and I have already had this discussion and I won’t sugarcoat anything with you. Cate, is that how you want things, too?”

As much as it will hurt to hear, I say, “Yes.”

“Okay. Drew’s type of cancer is more difficult to treat in his age group. Now that it’s metastasized, the odds of a cure have dropped even further. We are going to press ahead with everything we’ve got, but of course, part of his treatment will have to include another round of chemo and surgery. We’re not sure yet if we’ll add radiation. There is a possibility of some experimental drugs, but I’m not sure at this point, hence the tumor board on Friday.”

My body feels numb and I can’t begin to imagine how Drew feels. Just a few weeks ago, everything seemed so great. How could it be so bad? Then I flashback to these same words I said, when his initial diagnosis first came about. I realize nothing’s fair in life. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

Drew is quiet, as am I. Finally, Dr. Rosenberg breaks the giant iceberg of silence. “Do either of you have any questions?”

“No,” I say stone-faced. The only question I want to ask is why can’t you cure my husband?

Then he says to Drew, “I’ll see you Friday at seven.”

We walk out and I’m not sure what to think. But Drew, my precious Drew, does it all for me.

“Cate, look at me.” He stops and takes me into a small room of some kind. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

My mouth works over a thousand things I want to say, but nothing comes out. He presses me into the hard wall of his chest and I wonder how something so ugly and horrific can be growing inside such a perfect human being.

“I’m so scared, Drew. I don’t want to be. I want to be strong for you. Strong to carry you through this, but here I am, the biggest chicken shit on Earth.”

“How can you not be scared? I’m scared, too. But we’re in great hands here.”

“Should we go back to Indy?”

He pulls my face away from him so he can look at me. “Listen up. At the tumor board on Friday, the team from Indy will be video conferenced in, along with some guru from Sloan-Kettering.” A coughing fit breaks into his conversation. When it ceases, he wipes his eyes and carries on, covering up the severity of it. My heart squeezes in fear. “I think Rosenberg is also tagging some guy from MD Anderson. I can’t get better care anywhere, Cate. I promise.”

“Okay. If you’re good with it, so am I.”

Several deep breaths later and we’re heading out to the car. My arm is wrapped around his waist hugging him tightly to my side.