the drawer where he’d tucked away the photograph of Rachel and him. He pulled it out, stared into her upturned smiling face, and sighed. “I’m out of my league, Rachel. Working with these kids should be easier than planting a church. Maybe God took you home because He knew I wasn’t cut out for service.”
The strange sensation of something warm being poured over him returned, and his hands trembled. He put the photograph on the dresser and rubbed his hands as if applying lotion. The tremble stopped, and a chill shuddered through him. With his gaze locked on Rachel’s sweet image, he forced words past his gritted teeth. “I need you, Rachel. I need you with me. I don’t want to do this life alone.”
His whatnot box from high school rested in his peripheral vision. Still looking at Rachel’s image, he stretched his hand toward the box and lifted the lid. He pawed inside and located the square velvet box from the jewelry store. He gripped it in his fist and settled it directly in his line of vision. It’d been a year since he’d looked at the ring, but an image of it was burned into his memory. A wide band and a single diamond. A round full-karat stone. He’d bought the biggest diamond he could afford, and it’d been so pretty against the gleaming white-gold band.
He tried to smile at her photo, but his lips quivered too much to cooperate. “Rachel, you loved the ring so much when I proposed. And you would’ve loved what I had engraved inside the band when I had it sized for you. You’d have seen those words as my commitment to you, and you would have accepted the ring as your commitment to me.” How unfair that she hadn’t gotten to read the inscription. The chance to even wear the ring had been stolen from her by a driver who’d had too much to drink and couldn’t recognize that a red light meant stop.
His heart pounding, he angled his head. “Would…would you like to read it, Rachel?”
Underneath, he knew it was a ridiculous thing to do. Really? Show a ring to the image of a person? But for reasons he couldn’t explain, in that moment, he needed to show her the engraved promise. And there was no other way to do it. Trembling from head to toe, Jase positioned his thumb against the box and pushed. The lid popped open. The box was empty.
His fingers lost their grip. The box hit the floor, bounced, and landed on its hinged side, wide open, resembling the munching figure from the old video game Pac-Man. Jase jerked around and gaped toward the living room. One name roared through his mind.
Cullen…
Merlin
Merlin accepted the glass of tea Leah offered, then took a sip as she settled into the chair across the table. She was silent, but worry lines creased her brow. She’d be even more worried, maybe even mad, and certainly not silent when he told her what the doctor had said. But he didn’t have a choice anymore. The jig was up. Did people even say that anymore? Not that it mattered. His thoughts were procrastination, pure and simple, and he shouldn’t—well, he couldn’t—keep the truth from his wife anymore.
“I’m waiting.” Leah’s voice cut into his thoughts. “What did the doctor say?”
Merlin set down his glass and reached for her hand.
She drew it back. “Is this going to be bad news?”
He shook his head. “Not entirely.” He turned his palm up and waited. After a moment, she placed her hand in his, and he curled his fingers around it. The doctor’s declaration, although grim from one side of the coin, offered assurance on the flip side. He prayed Leah would focus on the positive. “After the first of the year, you suggested I go to the doctor because I was having so much acid reflux, remember?”
She gave a little huff. “Suggested? I insisted. You wouldn’t have gone otherwise.”
He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “You’re right. You insisted, I went, and after I told him what I was experiencing, he did a complete physical. When he listened to my heart and lungs, he got a little concerned. He said it didn’t sound right.”
Her fingers went stiff in his grip, and her blue eyes widened. “What do you mean, didn’t sound right?”
“Well…” He lowered his gaze to their joined hands. He’d held this woman’s hand for more than forty years, and he wasn’t anywhere close to