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…


8. Day Eight

It had been just over a week since Rose was diagnosed. My poor little Rose was dying. We had flown to Italy and back, decided to get married, moved into a castle, and have had kids. We had done it all in eight days.

That was the beauty of living the way we did. Free. We never had any boundaries because Rose didn’t want any. The gap year I had taken felt like it was going to be endless, as I realized that Rose would be dead way before the gap year was over.

“Sixteen day’s left.” I whispered as I woke up. It was becoming a ritual now that I would immediately have the number of days left in my head. I would plan the day by the number. We were doing something important every day. Having kids was day sevens triumph. Day eight was the day I decided to start a business with Rose.

“What are you doing up so early?” Rose asked exhaustedly as she came over to the breakfast counter. I was scribbling my signature endlessly on contracts.

“We are about to take over a shop.” I replied hesitantly. I had been keeping the shop a secret along with so many other secrets, as little surprises for her as time went on, because I knew that Rose would need all the surprises she could get to keep her smile on her face.

“What?” Rose yawned, running her hands over her bald head, before rubbing her eyes fiercely with her slender fists.

“I can see what they mean about weakness, you get tired walking from the bedroom to the kitchen. And the business is going to be called ‘Two Roses and a Lily’. It’s going to be a shop that sells flowers and soaps and stuff to help people with cancer.” I explained.

“What a wonderful Idea!” Rose squealed, although, with her vocabulary at that point sounded like my grandmother.

“Thank you. It’s the high street this morning and we can begin decorating this afternoon.” I declared. Rose smiled; she always said that she was me as a ‘keen businessman’. I never quite believed her until then. We took a walk to see what I had bought. It was perfect. The doors were all glass and everything was painted white. I loved it because it was so modern. Sliding the key into the door felt like I was meant to be there. I still work in the shop today, but not with Rose. Rose immediately began to move the furniture into a corner.

“I want to paint all the furniture Red and white.” She declared, I looked at her for a few seconds just to check that she was serious about that. I still wasn’t entirely sure.

“Why’s that?” I asked, faking my curiosity.

“You said ‘Two Roses and a Lily’ Roses are red and Lily’s are normally white.” She said innocently, and I thought about it, the idea actually made sense, which was a first.

“That’s fair enough.” I mumbled sheepishly. I felt bad about the fact that I had thought she was going crazy again. Rose went out and returned with several pots of red paint. We didn’t need the white paint because the furniture was originally white anyway. Immediately Rose had managed to spill paint everywhere, well, that was more of the IVF money spent.

“Here let me help!” I grabbed a paintbrush and started to paint a chair. Rose laid out white mats over the floor so that she didn’t ruin anymore of the perfect, chocolate brown, wooden flooring.  It was the only thing that wasn’t painted ‘brilliant white’. Suddenly she tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and she threw a bucket of paint over my head. “ROSE!” I screamed. She started laughing.

I threw the paintbrush at her, Rose caught it, but the paint sprayed over her dress and face. “LUCAS!!” Rose squealed. After a little while we were laughing and covered in paint.

“See, this is what we should be doing at our age. Not counting down the day’s until we die.” I laughed. We were both sat exhausted in the doorway of the shop.

“Yeah I guess, but then we don’t really have a choice Lucas.” Rose muttered breathlessly.

“Sorry, I forgot you suffer from breathlessness sometimes.” I apologized to Rose about the paint, and the conversation starter I had used.

“Not your fault.” She whispered, she shook her head slightly, as if she was trying to shake off all of the bad thoughts about her cancer.

“Guess what!” I said, to try and get her mind off of the cancer.

“What?” Rose asked back.

“WE HAVE JUST STARTED A BUISNESS AND ARE GETTING MARRIED TOMMOROW!!!” I screamed. A few old people on the street gave us smiles. I guess that young, tragic love really does get you attention. Rose began to yawn again.

“Let’s go home and see the puppies.” I said. We immediately drove home and when we stepped through the front door of the house, all hell had broken loose.

“LILY PUT THE LAMP DOWN!” Rose screamed.

“LUKAS PUT THE TV REMOTE DOWN!” I screamed. The whole house was a mess. The little cute bundles of fur had destroyed our home. I couldn’t help but laugh, because the dogs had raided the fridge, but only ate the fruit.

“They are some crazy kids we have got.” Rose moaned.

“Yeah, but you wanted to see what it is like to have kids.”  I reminded her.

“Promise me that when I die you will keep them. I want them to be ours forever.” She whispered. I had made so many promises since she was diagnosed that id dint know if I could keep them all.

“I promise Rose.” I said while holding her hand. “They will be ours forever.”

“Thank you.”

With that we began to tidy up the house, putting food back into the fridge, putting lampshades back and re making our bed. Rose literally fell asleep as she was making the bed. It was quite a funny sight. She threw the pillow at me.

On the eighth day I don’t really think that I ever thought about her cancer as much as I did normally because we were so busy doing kid stuff. People don’t understand that dying gracefully takes effort. And that’s all Rose will ever put in, effort.


Anyway, there were sixteen days left, and we were getting married the following day.

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