“Aaron, you’re my best friend, and I love you more than anything in this world. I’m sorry we don’t have the best sex life. I’ll just try harder at wanting to do it with you more often.”
He looked like he had been slapped across the face. “You’ll just try harder? God, Kate, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Do you know how that makes me feel, knowing you have to “try” to want to be with me?”
He turned his back to me as he stared out the big picture window that faced the street. There was an uneasy silence before he finally faced me again. A few minutes ago, he appeared to be very sorry for what he had done, but now he looked like he had just plain had it with me.
“You have no idea how much I love you, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue to be with someone who has to “try” to be with me.”
I stared back at him completely stunned. Somehow, the tables seemed to have turned.
“Aaron—what are you trying to say?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Kate, I know you love me, but I want you to be in love with me. I want you to love me the way you used to. But you’ve changed Kate, you’ve changed.”
I cut him off. “What do you mean I’ve changed?”
“You don’t love me the way you used to, and you haven’t for a long time. We get along great as parents and as friends, but when it comes to the intimate part of our relationship, you clam up, and I can’t get in.”
Fear paralyzed me as his angry and hurtful words continued.
“I can’t keep living like this. I can’t continue to be with someone knowing they don’t want to be with me.”
My head was spinning by now. How did I go from being so angry that I thought about leaving him, to feeling desperate and almost begging him to stay with me?
“Where are you going?” I nervously asked when he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.
“I need some time to myself,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.
Stunned and flabbergasted, I couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Is he seriously thinking about leaving me?
Chapter 5
It was the beginning of June in 1995, and I had finally graduated from college. A large group of our friends had met at Creekside, a bar in our hometown, to celebrate me getting my first teaching job.
Liz and I were sitting at a table in the back of the bar all by ourselves. She had me laughing hysterically over a funny incident that happened to her earlier this week.
“Oh my gosh,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I can’t believe that happened to you.”
She looked at me and I back at her. “Yes, we can,” we said at the same time and burst out laughing again.
Taking a drink of my beer, I let out a happy sigh thinking of how blessed I was to have such an awesome best friend.
Just then, in a split second, my eyes were covered with what felt like some sort of fabric. My hands instantly went to my face.
“Liz, what’s going on?” I asked as darkness surrounded me.
“Don’t say a word and just follow me.” It was Liz’s boyfriend’s voice.
“Dan, what in the heck are you doing?” I asked as I tried to remove the blindfold.
“Please don’t. We have a surprise for you.”
“Liz?!”
There was no answer, just a giggle.
“Liz, I’m going to kill you,” I said as Dan led me away from her, my feet carefully shuffling along and my hands gripping his arm tightly.
They probably have a surprise for me since I got a job.
He stopped, picked me up by my waist and sat me down on what felt like the bar.
“Dan?”
The entire place became silent as the volume on the jukebox got louder, joined in with a familiar voice.
“You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ ”, my favorite song from one of my favorite movies drifted throughout the bar. Slowly, the blindfold fell from my eyes and in front of me was Aaron singing his heart out.
My heart stopped and my jaw dropped. Then and there, Aaron got down on one knee, and opened a small red velvet ring box with an engagement ring in it.
“Kate Stewart— will you marry me?”
I was speechless and couldn’t answer.
The bar was quiet, everybody waiting in anticipation. Jumping off of the bar and straight into his arms, I yelled, “Yes, yes, yes, I will marry you!”
The months to come were filled with endless decision making, which was exhausting at times, yet also exciting. Soon the church and reception hall were booked, invitations ordered, the caterer, photographer and band selected, and the most gorgeous wedding dress chosen and tucked safely away in my closet.
Aaron and I were madly in love and counting down the days until we would become husband and wife. Just when we thought life was too good to be true, we received the heartbreaking news.
“I have stage three lung cancer.”
We were at Gene and Dorothy’s house for our weekly Sunday brunch, when his grandparents and parents told Carey, Aaron and me about Gene’s illness.
“What, when, how long?” Carey stuttered.
“They say I only have three months, but hell or high water, I will be here the day you two get married,” he said, looking at Aaron and me, his voice stern and serious.
My hand covered my mouth and tears burned my eyes.
“Now we’ve talked this over with your parents and we both agree that Grandma will be better off living in a condo down the street from them once I’m gone, and we would like for you and Kate to have our house.”
What?! He just told us he’s dying, but he wants to talk about us living in their house after he’s gone?
“And for you, Carey, Grandma and I will be paying off your house for you . . .”
His words faded from my mind as I tried to grasp the thought that he was going to die. I had never lost anybody close to me. What was I going to do when he was gone? Suddenly standing up, I went directly to him and wrapped my arms around his already frail, thin-looking body. Within seconds, Aaron was there too, sobbing.
Our wedding day finally arrived and just like Gene promised, he was there to witness Aaron and me become man and wife. He had lost a terrible amount of weight and looked like he was hanging onto life by only a thread, but he was there.
We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day. The sun was shining, the flowers were in full bloom, and love was in the air. The church basement echoed with endless giggles and excitement as my sisters, other bridesmaids and I waited patiently for one-thirty in the afternoon to come.
“Girls, they’re ready for you,” Dad said.
It was a quarter after one when he peeked his head in the basement. He hadn’t seen me yet, but once he did, his eyes filled with happy tears.
“Wow, Kate, you look amazing,” he said, walking over to me.
“Thanks Dad!” I said, giving him a hug.
“We’ll see you in a few, Mrs. Turner,” some of my bridesmaids chanted before they made their way