While We have This Moment Ch. 03

What...

the...

hell?

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. This made no sense.

"You... cancer?" was all I could get out. I needed to lean against something, to sit down. I found the couch. Aaron followed me. We sat at opposite ends of the couch, facing each other.

"You said you knew," he said, confused. "You said Dasha told you."

"Dasha told me the drugs made you sick sometimes. And she didn't even know the word drugs, I had to... Oh, God, I suggested that because I already suspected something was wrong."

"Well, technically it is the drugs," he said with a small laugh at the morbid humor. "I'm on something experimental, a different kind of chemo. That night a few months ago, when Dasha brought me home, I had gotten really sick at my last treatment of the latest round. The next round starts this afternoon and lasts a few weeks."

"Shit," I whispered, then asked "How long?"

"Less than three years," he said, just as he had before.

"Had it for less than three years or... you have less than three years?" I clarified.

"The second one," he said softly. "Diagnosed about a year ago."

It was like buying your dream home and then watching it burn to the ground the next day. Yes, I knew what less than three years meant. It meant that within that time, he'd waste away, and the final year would be devastating, painful to watch. I asked for details about where he was affected, what treatments he had received, where he'd gone for second opinions, and all the things my nurse brain needed to know.

I wanted to run away and think and cry and scream.

I wanted to pull off my clothes and take him to bed and never let go.

"So..." he said softly, startling me from my introspection, "now you understand why I say this would be a bad idea."

"Yeah... yeah, I get that now," I said, dazed. Then shaking my head clear, I asked, "The kids?"

"They don't know yet," he explained. "I wanted to wait until a few rounds of this treatment were done and we had a better idea what the prognosis is."

I renewed my tears, putting my hands to my face. I couldn't imagine having to tell Maya and Derek that news.

"I'm sorry Denise," he apologized, "I was going to tell you eventually, but not until I knew a little more."

"Yeah, I get that," I said, nodding. "And Aaron, I'm sorry if even subtly... or not so subtly... I was a bitch to you. I thought you had a drug problem that you were hiding, and I was both worried and self-righteous. And you were so casual about it, like it was no big deal that you did this and kept it secret. I mean, when the Russian mafia is driving you home semiconscious-"

"They're Ukrainian," he smiled, "And they're not gangsters. The bar is a little seedy and I wouldn't take my kids there, but Dasha is a waitress there, and she's the closest family I have here now."

I breathed deep and tried to reorganize and recategorize my memories. Everything I had seen after the word "drugs" came into the picture had been shaded by that.

"But anyway," he began, standing up and walking towards the kitchen, "like I said, all we could hope for is just a moment of normalcy, maybe a short time to enjoy, but that's it. Then it gets ugly, as you know."

Alone on the couch, I stared out the window. I could barely see the stream through the curtains. I pictured the four of us spending many relaxing evenings out there. Even a moment of happiness could transform someone. And for Aaron, a moment might be all he had.

I stood up and followed where he had walked. He was in the kitchen, pulling some meat out of the freezer to thaw. "I was thinking of grilling some burgers for dinner, if I have the energy. If not... I'll order a pizza." He smiled faintly.

"You said you love me," I stated softly.

"Yeah, but that was before I knew you thought I was a crack-head," he teased. "I'm not sure I can love someone who thinks so poorly of me."

"Ass," I shot back.

"Hm... now, is being an ass better or worse than being a meth-head?"

"You seriously need to stop," I said, contradicting myself with a smile.

"No," he sighed as his smile faded. "That's my line. Do you see now why I've been telling you this needs to stop?"

We both stood silently in the kitchen, Aaron fidgeting with some things on the counter while I looked around and tried to process all this new information. Surprisingly, my first instinct was not to leave what would obviously be a heartbreak down the road. Or maybe that wasn't so surprising. I had concluded that I loved him. Love doesn't just give up when cancer enters the scene. Sure, most couples have more time to solidify their bond and to "strengthen the muscle of commitment" (as I once heard Dottie say) before those bonds are tested, but that didn't make what I felt towards Aaron any less real.

"I was ready to..." I began, "I was hoping we would end up making love today. While the kids were out. After I had convinced you that... that happiness is worth fighting for."

"Denise..." he sighed, shaking his head.

"I still think it is," I ventured.

"Think what is?"

"Worth fighting for. Happiness. Even if it's just a moment of it."

"Don't you get it?" he countered, frustrated. "Fighting doesn't work; we're talking about a death sentence, and I-"

"Not yet," I interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not dead yet. Don't let death steal the life you have left," I said with more confidence than I felt.

"OK, Miss Fortune Cookie. Explain your riddle," he said. I could tell he was at least listening.

"I mean... I think... that..." I fumbled for the right words. "I mean that you can't just give up on having good things now just because you know they won't last. And I think you know that. You still love Maya and Derek, and you are making the most of your time with them. Why deny yourself... and me... a chance at love... at something else... even though it may only be for a short time? You're letting the...the... the shadow of death spoil your life before death itself is actually here."

Aaron stared at me, expressionless, for at least ten long seconds.

Not sure what to do with the silence, I went on. "I think you're scared and you're being selfish."

Aaron walked around the kitchen island and stood almost toe to toe, staring down at me. I leaned back against a counter and put my hands on the edge to keep myself from tumbling backwards. "Damn right I'm scared," he said, his voice firm and intense. "In a few years, I'm going to die. I have every right to be scared."

I was holding my breath, intimidated by his forceful presence. Yet my physical desire for him was also stirring afresh.

"But I'm not being selfish," he continued, his body visibly relaxing and backing off slightly. "Do you really think that I don't want you, Denise? That I don't want to squeeze out of you every hour that we could possibly have? That I haven't thought about you and lusted after you and longed to sit by the creek on an old blanket and watch the kids fish while we just hold each other and talk about what you did at the clinic that day?"

"Wow," I said. "That was... very specific."

Aaron blushed. "Some of my fantasies are very domestic," he mumbled.

"You see," I replied, trying to press my advantage, "you do want this."

"Of course I want it!" he snapped, then calmed himself. "But it's because I love you that I'm saying we can't. I don't want to put you through what a future with me would be like. You could have your happily ever after for years and years with... with someone else."

"I don't love someone else," I whispered. I put one hand over his heart and moved closer.

"You will," he replied. "You're old enough to know that, aren't you? That the heart heals and moves on? That you don't get just one chance? Don't waste your-"

"You... are not... a waste," I said, fighting the beginning of an ugly cry. The words started to rush out, trying to be heard before tears conquered coherency. "Everyone dies sooner or later and just because you'll be sooner doesn't mean that the years you have left are any less valuable because it could be car accident next month or a heart attack next year or something else that we don't see coming and we would still cherish the time we have and maybe even more so when we know there's not a lot of time so I..."

Then he kissed me. Not a long, passionate kiss, but a soft, intimate kiss that calmed me down, stopped the coming tears, and -- most importantly -- shut me up.

After a few seconds he pulled back and said, "You might be right, but it just feels cruel to do this to you. Like I tricked you into it or something."

"But you didn't," I objected. "And you have to respect me enough to let me make my own choices."

"It doesn't seem like you're showing me that same respect," he said, as the corner of his lips curled up enough to show me he was teasing.

"Well your choices are wrong," I said with a shrug.

"Yes. I can feeeel the respect," he said dryly. Aaron backed up a little and found a chair to sit in. I remained leaning against the counter.

"So now what?" I asked.

"Well, I think we finally agree," he said.

"Yes. I think we do."

"We agree that this is way more complicated than either of us wanted to admit."

"No, we agree that I'm right and you're wrong and that if you don't kiss me like that again I'm going to..." Aaron raised an eyebrow, curious where my threat was going. "I'm going to take the next fish I catch and hide it somewhere in this house where you won't find it until the stench is so bad you have to camp out in the back yard."

My words may have been playful, but my heart felt desperately serious. I needed him. I pictured him standing up and saying Well, we can't have that, now can we? as he walks over and picks me up in his arms and...

"Denise," he began, then paused until he had my attention. "I need to think about this. This is... this is a lot."

"Yeah," I said, my heart still fluttering with nervous energy, "I understand."

I wondered if I should leave. I wondered how long he would need to think about it. I wondered...

"You were really planning that we would... you know... today?" His awkwardness was endearing.

"Have sex?" I answered frankly, trying to elicit a deeper blush from his cheeks. "Yes. I mean, I was hoping. And I was emotionally ready. And I shaved my legs."

Aaron looked at the floor and laughed. I wiggled an exposed knee in his direction and he laughed harder. It was the happiest I had seen him in a while. "You're not making this easy, Denise," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm not trying to make it easy," I replied. "In fact," I tried to contain my own laughter, "I'm trying..."

"Don't say it," Aaron warned with more laughter...

"...to make it hard," I spat out before surrendering myself to a fit of giggles.

Once we had composed ourselves, Aaron took a deep breath and said, " I really want you, too, you know."

"Don't say 'but,'" I pleaded.

"Bu-u-ut," he went on as I sighed in frustration, "not right now. I need to... I don't know, get used to the idea. To the possibility. To the implications."

"How long will that take?" I asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "Maybe a few hours, maybe a few weeks. My mind can't just shift from 'Denise the beautiful but untouchable nanny' to 'Denise, the beautiful and available woman who wants to be with me,'" he explained.

I nodded sympathetically, then walked over to where he was sitting. Settling onto his lap, I put hand behind his head and drew his lips towards mine. Our lips touched gently a few times, then parted. His tongue carefully explored the space between us, brushing gently against my own. One strong hand gingerly touched my side, and I consciously kept myself from flinching out of insecurity at having a man caressing the part of my body that I still thought needed the most improvement.

I felt that deep hunger that wanted to expose myself more fully to him, to be touched more thoroughly by him, to be filled by him. But I knew the time wasn't right. So I pulled away. Aaron remained motionless, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted.

"Well..." I whispered. Aaron didn't move, save for raising his eyebrows to show he was listening. Putting my lips just next to his ear I breathed, "Next time your mind is thinking I'm untouchable, just think about that instead, OK?"

Instead of answering, Aaron wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a strong embrace. I circled my arms around his neck and lay my cheek on the top of his head.

"Spend the day with me?" he asked, after a comfortable silence.

"Can I spend the night, too?" I replied. When he didn't answer right away, I added, "No strings attached. Just... just like this is fine, even. Or more, if you're ready."

"Can you be discrete about it?" The question could have been insulting, but I understood his concern. Lifting his head up a bit, he explained, "I mean, the kids are used to you being here at night sometimes, but if they saw you in the morning, too..."

"I start work at 6 a.m.," I explained. "I'd be gone by 5:30."

"That'll work," he said, burying his face in my chest again.

I listened to him breath for another minute, then said, "Well, now that I'm not as horny, I'm starting to feel hungry."

I felt rather than heard him laugh.

*******

Aaron wasn't allowed to eat before his treatment, so when we got downtown I got a slice of pizza from a hole in the wall restaurant. I quickly consumed it so that Aaron wouldn't have to watch me eat. We walked to the park and talked casually as we watched leaves begin to drop from the trees. To simply sit next to him, his arm around me in comfortable silence, was the happiest I had felt in ages.

I sat in the room during his treatment, observing everything with a nurse's eye at first, but soon starting to feel the intimidation of the room as experienced by a patient or loved one. I even began to consider what we could do at our clinic to make the examining rooms more comforting.

Aaron was mostly silent as he reclined in the big, soft chair, the mysterious and little-understood chemicals dripping slowly in through an IV. We were there for almost an hour, and every now and then he would look over at me and smile before closing his eyes again.

I drove us back to my house, and Aaron rested in the car while I grabbed a few items for an overnight stay. Then we went back to his house, arriving about an hour before the kids were due back. I urged Aaron to take a nap while I tidied up. He seemed so tranquil and just went along with whatever I suggested. He slept peacefully even after the kids got back. They were excited to see me, having originally been told I wouldn't be there. Upon seeing them, I felt a suddenly stronger affection for them, a love that I wasn't at liberty to explain to them yet. I realized I was still assuming much about the future, since Aaron and I hadn't talked about it yet, but I suspected I was not assuming in error.

Aaron joined us for dinner, looking refreshed but somewhat weaker than he had in the morning. When we had an opportunity to stand close to one another at the grill, out of sight of the kids, he leaned close and said, "Don't worry, I'm mostly just hungry. I should be fine later."

"And I need to know this information why?" I teased.

"No reason," he smiled. "Just didn't want you to worry about me."

"Oh, because I thought you might be making insinuations about your plans for tonight," I said softly.

He chuckled, glancing in the direction of the kids. "I am. And I'm saying..."

"That for a sick, old man you may be able to exceed my expectations?" I interrupted.

He paused, looking carefully to make sure the kids were out of earshot, then whispered, "That I'm going to make sure that after tonight you won't think of calling me a sick, old man again for some time."

"You're going to make me eat my words?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Or something," he replied, dropping a slab of meat on my plate. He planted a quick, silent peck on my cheek before rejoining the kids at the patio table. It might have been the early evening chill, but I couldn't help but shiver.

Later that night, Maya gave me a funny look as I helped the kids go through their bedtime routine. "Are you spending the night?" she asked.

"I'm staying a little later to talk with your dad," I said, giving a half-truth. "I won't be here when you wake up in the morning, if that's what you're asking," I said, carefully wording my facts.

"OK," she answered. "Cuz if you spend the night, you have to be in my room, cuz I'm the girl."

"Well," I paused, thinking as quickly as I could, "when I spend the night, I promise it won't be in your brother's room."

Satisfied with that, she went to her room, where Aaron was waiting to read the kids a story.

I had already cleaned everything that needed to be cleaned downstairs, so I careful crept up the steps and into Aaron's room, not wanting to alert the kids to my presence. I started to change into my nightgown, then had a better idea. Looking through Aaron's drawers, I found a large t-shirt and slipped that over my naked body. Even if he wasn't up for anything that night, it would feel good to sleep next to him like that. I crawled under his sheets, breathing in his scent that was all over his pillow. I stretched out my limbs and rolled around a few times. I could hear their voices in the distance -- soft, higher voices and one lower voice -- but no distinguishable words. Soon, the voices died down, and not long after that, Aaron entered the room.

"Lock the door," I whispered, unable to suppress a giggle. He did so, and spent a few minutes in the bathroom before joining me in bed. He slipped his arm under my shoulders and I rolled towards him, my leg spreading across his midsection. We both sighed. No words were spoken. None were needed.

I had intended to rest a few minutes before mounting him, but it was so nice to be lying in his embrace like that. A few minutes became a few more, and my urgency to be joined sexually gave way to the pleasure of being joined as we were. I'm not sure who fell asleep first, but neither of us made a move to stop it from happening.

*******

So accustomed was I to sleeping alone, that even the slightest touch at night seemed to startle me awake. But after a few times of awaking to find myself still in Aaron's arms as he slept, I was able to settle down and truly rest.

Sometime during the night, though, I woke up to a different sensation. I was no longer in Aaron's arms, and I couldn't make out his form next to me, but I felt his touch nonetheless. He was kissing my waist and tenderly caressing my thigh. I looked over at the clock -- it was still about an hour before I would need to get up and leave for work. Perfect. I stretched out my arms and legs, being careful not to bump Aaron's face as I did so. Then adjusting myself flat on my back, I spread my legs and smilingly whispered, "Proceed."

Instead, Aaron moved up so that his lips grazed my ear. "I've been breathing in your scent every time I woke up. May I?"

Without waiting for my obvious approval, he pushed the covers aside and began kissing my inner thighs. As with this morning, he took his time and brought my arousal from simmering to scorching. I felt myself getting close, and my gut was starting to tingle, but I had other plans.

"On your back," I whispered loud enough to be heard.

"Hm?" Aaron asked, popping his head up to look at me, and licking his lips.

"On your back," I instructed again. "I want you inside me."

He grinned broadly and did as I requested. He was still wearing the plaid boxers he had worn to bed, though he had lost his shirt at some point during the night. I tugged his boxers down and tossed them away. His penis was resting to the side, seemingly only half-firm. I gave him a playful grin and lowered my face to his crotch. With a single long, slow lick, I covered the length of his cock with saliva. By the time I passed the tip, he was reaching full rigidity. But since I was already down there...