I Love You Too

by The Purple Pineapple

Liv is dying. This is a series of goodbye letters she writes to Fitz, so that he would be able to move on with their daughter, once she's gone. Vignettes of their life together, fluffy, but also quite sad.

10. A-Couple-Of-Months

Again, thank you so much for all the reviews, they really do mean the world to me. I hope you'll like this chapter, it's one of my favs so far.

Hi.

It's funny how despite all reason, all better judgment, all knowledge to the contrary, somewhere deep inside I still hoped for a miracle. I still believed that maybe, just maybe, the impossible will happen. I hoped against hope, without even realizing that that's what I was doing. Never realizing. Until those four little words were spoken. The words that will be used as a measure of time, as a before and after, as an until and from.

A-couple-of-months.

So simple. So terrifying in their simplicity. There are no hidden meanings. There is no way to spin it.

So final. So terrifying in their finality. There are no more doctors to visit. No more meds to try. No more fights to be had. No more.

It's all a blur. The – "it's grown" and "I advise" and "spend the time you have left with the people you love". A-couple-of-months. All a blur. A whirlwind of sounds, of images. The smell of disinfectant. All of it a blur, but you. Your face when she said it. Then there was a moment before you processed. Moment of prayer. The in-between. And then, then you blinked really fast, as if willing the tears away would make it less true. The way your hand quivered. The way you squeezed mine, to stop them both from shaking. Tightening your grip with her every word, until I could no longer feel my hand, just yours. Feeling your pulse instead of mine.

I don't remember leaving. I just remember walking home. Because somehow, without speaking we decided we would walk. Because in a little while I won't be able to. And that realization, that truth, that… well we needed time to process that. Quiet. I remember the quiet. Amidst all the noise. The cars, and the people, the wind and the carols. Amidst the chaos of life, there loomed the quiet of death. Against the flow of time, there was a final breath. There was nothing to say. Nothing more to be said. Aside from, "I Love You!."

You said it so quietly, almost as a whisper, a prayer.

So simple. So wonderful in its simplicity. There are no hidden meanings. There is no way to spin it.

So final. So wonderful in its finality. There are no more words needed. No more. Except, "I Love You Too."

A-couple-of-months. There's still Christmas. And New Years. And the days in between, and weeks after. Weeks, and days – the units of time dissipating before my eyes.

I guess it isn't that funny. Not really. That I hoped despite all reason, all better judgment, all knowledge to the contrary. That I hoped against hope. It's not funny, it's wonderful. It's everything. The way you believe that if you hold me close enough you might be able to stop me from disappearing. And the way I believe it too. The way we believe time will go slower, because we need more of it. The way we believe that maybe a-couple-of-months might be enough for a lifetime of love.

And for that, for being my miracle, my impossible, my hope,

I Love You Too.