The Days Before She Died

My name is Lucas Hunt,
The chances are you’ve never heard of me, never met me, and don’t even know who I am. I was a boy; I am now a man, with scruffy brown hair, big blue eyes and a body that all girls adore. This all means nothing to me. I don’t need or want the girls anymore, because the girl I truly love died. Rose is dead. I try not to think of her as dead, because she’s still alive in my heart. I live with the painful thoughts of her death, and the happiness of her smile. It’s the greatest of contradictions. That’s what I remember most though, her smile. But at least I Know that she died a happy woman because of what we did in the days before she died…

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11. Day Eleven

After day ten’s fiasco with the Hostess I was happy to land in Spain, free of the cold English weather, and somewhat away from the reality of the UK. “Where are we?” Asked Rose when it was time to get off the plane, she yawned several times before actually getting up to get off of the plane.

“Spain, we’re on our honeymoon.” I replied, trying to hold back a laugh about Rose being so forgetful.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I’m still so tired.” Rose moaned, even she let out a small giggle over the fact that she had forgotten where she was. Although, I think she was that tired she was struggling to remember her own identity at that point. I wouldn’t blame her, the Lymphoma was entirely draining her energy, you could see it in her facial expressions, they themselves were beginning to tire.

“How can you be tired? You’ve been asleep for two hours, plus you’ve been sleeping more than usual.” I complained, at the time I had forgotten about her Lymphoma completely, or was at least trying to suppress that fact from my thoughts.

“Lymphoma, a common sign of it is tiredness, remember?” She fought back, and then I remembered about the Lymphoma again.

“Oh yeah I remember.” I gave up on arguing. We jumped on the coach that took us strait to the Hotel. Rose wanted the best experience of Spain so I took her to ‘Hotel La Manga Club Príncipe Felipe’. It’s beautiful the blue waters were stunning. The beach looked magnificent. Our apartment had five star qualities. We were amazed. I literally just threw the bags into the wardrobe and put some swimming trunks on. Rose changed into her ‘holiday bikini’ and we both ran to the pool. I think that we were the only adults who ever dive-bombed the swimming pool in excitement. But, we were on a honeymoon, so that didn't really matter. After hours of swimming lengths in the pool we decided to take a walk. I could be bothered to get changed so I stayed in swimming trunks and Rose just put a pair of shorts on.

 Soon we were running down the little Spanish streets that were full of vibrant colours. Rose wanted to go to a Spanish Market so that she could buy a Spanish treasure. By Spanish treasure I think she actually meant a scarf because that's what she brought. She brought a Spanish Red scarf that was embellished in fine sequins and embroidery. I brought a new shirt. It was blue and the collar was white. But embroidered around the edged and stitching were little roses. I brought it to remind me of Rose. Rose seemed very ill on that first day in Spain. She never once sat down, or even ate anything. I knew that one of her symptoms was lack of apatite, but Rose was always hungry. I began to realise that this was the beginning of the end for Rose. Rose never told me that she was in pain on day eleven. She just bumbled around a lot. I treated her like a princess. We brought fine Spanish foods and fabrics. The fabrics were to hang around a corner of our new shop. We even made friends with a food service; they agreed to send foods over weekly to our shop so that we could own a food counter to get more customers. All this was tiring for me to do in one day, and I’m guessing that it was even harder for Rose.

“How much longer do we have until dinner?” Rose asked quietly, trying not to make her hunger as obvious.

“Two hours. Why, are you hungry?” I replied.

“I've only eaten tasters of Spanish food today. I'm not actually hungry but I think I need to eat because I have a headache coming on.” She complained, holding her hands to her temples and rubbing them slightly. I hoisted her up onto my back and carried her into a little Spanish restaurant near to the Hotel so that if she fell ill like in Italy then I wouldn’t have to carry her too far.

“A table for two, please.” Rose ordered the little Spanish waiter.

“En español por favor” The waiter said.

  Rose looked a bit confused.

“What’s he saying Lucas?” Rose asked me.

“He can’t speak English; he wants us to speak Spanish.” I explained, and then I turned round and spoke to the waiter. “Una mesa para dos, por favor.” He nodded and led us over to a small table for two. We received a complimentary bread dish and then Rose ordered.

“Paella, por favor.” She ordered the waiter nodded. But then the waiter said something in Spanish that Rose didn't understand which fixed her smile back onto her face as she giggled about her useless Spanish skills.

“What did he say?”  Rose asked.

“You have an excellent taste.” I replied. “You know Rose, for someone who’s wanted to go to Spain all her life, you don't have very good Spanish skills.” I laughed quietly under my breath.

“I doubt that he was talking about the food. More like your excellent taste in women!” Rose laughed. It was good to see her laughing again after seeing her looking so ill before. But, she only managed a few mouthfuls of Paella before she was full.

“Your loss of appetite seems to be getting worse.” I complained, again, trying to surprises the thought of cancer from my brain.

“Yeah well, nobody made dying easy.” Rose laughed. But I could see it in her, the pain that she was holding back. She couldn’t help a few tears that ran down her cheeks.

“You’re in pain Rose. Do we need to go somewhere and get help?” I asked.

“NO. I’m going to be fine. It's just a sign. Dying is painful, and at the moment I'm trying my very best to not show you any pain.” Rose replied breathlessly. I sighed. She could be the most stubborn person in the world. In a way that was a good thing because it meant that she never showed anything that didn't need to be shown.

“¿Podemos tener la cuenta, por favor?” I asked the waiter. He immediately brought over the bill.

In GBP it cost £40 just for a Paella and Pulp á feria. That was a rip off but there was nothing that I could do. I didn't want to argue with the manager because the night was going quite well and it seemed as though Rose was enjoying herself.

“Let’s get you to the hotel Rose.” I whispered as we stepped outside.

“I don't look that tired, do I?” Rose asked worriedly, even though she was dying she was still very fussy about her image. I guess that's a women thing. I mean, I was walking around my swimming shorts.

“You do look tired honey, and I’m not saying that to try and make you feel bad Rose.” I replied. She was fiddling with her wedding ring, and looking at the floor, I saw a tear run down her cheek.

“You know, it's these little moments of pure happiness, pure normality that I’ll miss most, if I have a second life.” She cried. “And, I want you to know, that even when I’m dead, I’ll love you Lucas.”

“I’ll love you always Rose. I promise that I’ll never love anyone else.” I whispered as I saw that we were drawing in unwanted attention from families around us, some were wiping tears away with their napkins as they realised the scenario that I was in.

“I want you to love someone after me; you’ll have to move on. But never forget me Lucas.” Rose whispered.

 

“How could I ever forget the woman that turned my world upside down?” I laughed. Rose collapsed onto the hotel bed. She was shattered. It had been a hard, long day for the both of us. It had also been a great start to the honeymoon. I collapsed on the bed with Rose. I closed my eyes and fell asleep without any hesitations. 

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