Prologue

PROLOGUE

Jaxon

A trembling smile tilted Penelope’s lips, and she weakly lifted her arm, reaching out for my hand. Without a beat of hesitation, I wrapped my fingers around hers, my chest tight.

Why was life being so cruel to her?

She was leaving us—leaving me and Spencer. Our son needed her, but whatever awaited her after this life apparently needed her more.

And fuck, it hurt.

She’d already said her goodbyes to Spencer, who’d cried over her and hugged her and kissed her cheeks. Witnessing it had shattered my heart. But this—this moment—was going to be what fucking obliterated me.

I’d met Penelope as a nineteen-year-old boy just trying to survive. I’d grown up with neglectful parents who never truly gave a shit about me. I’d been hardened and rough. But that day on campus, Penelope saw something in me worth nurturing and fighting for. And she had. With every fucking fiber of her being, this woman—my beautiful, sweet wife—fought for me every single day. For us.

She’d pulled me out of my darkness and shown me what it was like to truly live.

And now… now, she was leaving me.

I’d had months to prepare for this moment, but how was I supposed to prepare myself for losing my soulmate? The love of my life? The woman who fucking saved me ?

Damn the fucking cancer for eating her alive.

We’d only found it because she started bleeding heavily… and for days. When she went to the doctor, she called me in tears, telling me they found a tumor.

Stage four ovarian cancer.

And it’d spread to other parts of her body.

The doctor had grimly informed us that it was too late to do anything. Too late to save her. She’d cried. I’d cried. And we’d both cried again when we sat Spencer down after school and broke the news to him.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said softly, her voice shaking with her words. She was so weak now. So frail. There was hardly anything of her left.

I swallowed thickly, a tear running down my cheek. “I thought I would be ready when the day came…” I cleared my throat, my voice so fucking thick and raspy, I could barely talk. “No amount of time could have prepared me.”

Her own tear ran down her cheek. I reached down and tenderly wiped it away. I didn’t want her to spend her last moments crying. I wanted her to leave this world comfortably, knowing Spencer and I would be okay. “I love you,” I rasped. “Wherever you go after this… just know I love you. With every single piece of me.”

Her smile returned, just as soft and bright as the day I met her when she crashed into my life in a beautiful ball of sunshine. And now, she was leaving, taking all of her sunshine with her, leaving me in a world of darkness.

A darkness I’d have to navigate without her as my guide as I finished raising our son. As I helped him navigate adulthood and college.

“Promise me you’ll move on,” she quietly pleaded. “You’re only forty, Jaxon. You have your whole life ahead of you still.”

I shook my head. She was asking too much. How the fuck did someone move on from the love of their life? “Penelope?—”

She closed her eyes, death drawing closer and closer, just ready to suck her into its waiting arms, where she’d no longer have to suffer. My heart clenched in my chest, and I let go of her hand to clasp her face. Leaning over her, I pressed our lips together in a soft kiss that lingered. “Princess?—”

“Promise me,” she rasped.

My heart clenched. My gut threatened to revolt. But if this was her dying wish to me…

“I promise,” I rasped. Even if it made me physically ill to utter the words.

She pressed her lips to mine again in a short, sweet kiss. “I love you, Jaxon.”

I swallowed back the sob that threatened to break free. “I love you, too, princess. So goddamn much.” She took a shallow breath, and then, her chest stilled. Tears streaked down my cheeks. I pressed my lips to her forehead, my tears dripping onto her skin. “Rest easy, beautiful.”

Spencer wept silently, his fingers curled into my shirt. My arm tightened around Spencer’s shoulders, trying to hold him together. Hell, I was trying to hold both of us together. And it was proving really fucking difficult.

My lips trembled, tears threatening as the kind, older woman handed me the urn holding my wife’s ashes. Spencer reached over, grabbing it from me and clutching it to his chest. I rested my hand on his hair, scraping my blunt nails against his scalp in the way Penelope used to when he was sick or he was having a bad day.

But I knew it wasn’t the same. Her nails had always been manicured and pretty and were capable of soothing both me and Spencer to sleep when she did it. My nails were blunt, barely reaching the tips of my fingers, and my fingers were too thick to ever be like hers.

“Thank you,” I rasped.

“Of course.” She offered me a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

I just nodded. What was I supposed to say to that?

Turning, I led Spencer to the car. Once we were inside, we both just sat there. He stared down at the remains of his mother, and I stared out the windshield, feeling like my heart was shredding itself apart. But how was that possible when it’d already been ripped apart when she took her last breath?

“What do we do from here, Dad?” Spencer suddenly asked, his voice raw with pain.

I roughly cleared my throat and reached forward to start the car.

“I don’t know, kid,” I told him honestly. “But we’ll figure it out. I promise.”