I do not own Me Before You.
Okay, got your hankies?
180 Days, Give or Take
Louisa Clark Finally Finds Someone to Hate
The time had come.
I had waited as long as I could.
Probably too long.
All the way into the night of the last day.
As Nathan spent a few hours with Karen.
And my Molahonkey girl and I perused the beach one final time.
But I had selfishly wanted to relish the magic of the island, of the trip, of my Louisa as long as possible.
And now I milked it just a bit longer there in the dark, the sea lapping and waving before us.
The stars overhead.
And Clark.
Happy, lovely Louisa Clark.
"I . . . I don't want to go home!"
There on the beach.
"This has been the best!"
Adorned in a lovely blue sundress.
Proudly challenging me.
"You're glad you came. Right?"
Big bright smile.
"Yes," I replied, barely able to manage my roiling emotions, which seemed to be ever on the verge of spilling out of my eyes nowadays.
I'm glad I came here with you.
And I smiled for her.
My Louisa.
With her laughing eyes.
Dancing in the sand.
Feet bare and kissed by waves.
Flower in her curled dark hair.
Dancing and dancing and dancing.
Out of sheer delight and joy.
I laughed, letting her joy flow out to me, fill me up even more so with churning tides of feeling.
As she grinned and playfully shimmied.
To some faint drift of music floating out to us from one of the pubs down the way.
She thought she was being silly.
And she was, my giddy little Molahonkey sprite.
But she was also being the sexiest, most perfect creature I had ever laid eyes upon.
Stuck physically in this godawful chair, my mind soared out into the ether.
Where I rose from the chair unencumbered and swept her up in my embrace.
Kissed her.
Perhaps even danced a few silly little steps myself with her giggling madly in my arms.
Leapt into the waves.
And made passionate love to her in the sea.
Where she, unhurt, undamaged by men, felt no hesitation.
But welcomed me with open arms, an open smile.
And love.
My emotional and mental self ached for that freedom, that joy, that privilege.
As I sat still and trapped in my unresponsive bag of a body.
Louisa knew none of this however as she beamed in triumphant at me.
And approached slowly.
That small, only slightly self-conscious smile tugging at her lips.
And I found myself once again speaking.
"You . . . you are . . ."
Beautiful.
Perfect.
Ethereal.
Sexy as hell.
A godsend.
An angel.
My reason for living.
". . . something else, Clark."
And with barely a hesitation, she grinned. Edging herself onto my waiting lap.
As if she knew she belonged there.
That I wanted her there.
And would never dare to ask.
Placing her soft, delicate hands on my face, so warm, so loving, in a perfect cradle between jaw and neck.
Oh god I love you.
Gazing so deeply into my eyes.
Leaning forward slowly. So deliciously, painfully slowly . . .
Don't, Clark.
Stop.
I don't think I can bear only part of you.
Please.
Don't.
Stop.
. . . to press those warm, sweet lips finally to mine.
Her kiss was sweet and light, a thing of warmth and gentleness and love and promise.
Everything I knew it would be and had desired.
And I wanted, with every fiber of my being, to wrap my arms around her, press her to me.
She continued to kiss me and I, oh, I let go just a little and allowed myself to kiss her back.
The entire world surmised of only Louisa. Her lips and my mine together.
Fused with electricity and restrained passion and desire.
She broke contact just enough to gaze back into my eyes.
Eyes that could not bear to look upon her beauty, knowing I could not have it, could not keep it.
My entire self surged with emotion, my chest feeling as though it would tear apart under the power of it.
Oh please, god, just this once, oh let my limbs free and let me out of this chair!
And I couldn't.
I just couldn't.
Not now.
Not then, not ever.
And amid my desire and love and need, I knew I must tell her.
I could go no longer.
I either could have her. All of her and all of me.
And my life.
Or I could die.
Because I could not accept anything in between.
"Clark, I have to tell you something."
She had known all along, as I suspected she had.
Known and clung to the fruitless hope that things could change.
I could get better. Some miracle drug or surgery.
Or that I would simply change my mind.
And now, in the face of my harsh reality, she had tried, as she had done all along, to convince me.
That she, and this life, was enough.
"I can make you happy."
And I had tried, with my own brimming tears threatening to fall, to explain why it was not.
"It's not going to get any better than this. The doctors know it. And I know it."
I had poured my heart out.
"I need it to end here. No more pneumonia. No more burning limbs. No more pain and exhaustion and waking up every day wishing it was already over."
And requested what I knew was the worse for her.
"If you feel the things you say you feel, come with me to Switzerland."
Please come with me, Louisa. Let me die with your face on my heart and your love by my side.
She slipped from my lap as her heart began to crack. Lovely oval face crumpling, blue eyes filling with tears.
Her pain. It was so exquisite, so awful.
"I tell you I love you and I want to build a future with you and you ask me to come and watch you kill yourself?!"
And that hope she had clung to for so long began to cut her, slice her to ribbons.
"But . . . but . . . I thought I was changing your mind!"
And so it had come to this.
I couldn't lie to her. I couldn't stall. I didn't have the time.
"Nothing was ever going to change my mind."
On that secluded beach.
Tucked away on that little island.
Awash somewhere in the Indian Ocean.
Louisa Clark had finally found somebody to hate.
Me.
Breaking apart, she was breaking apart.
"Don't say another word! You are so . . . selfish!"
Crying and gasping for air, her heart completely torn asunder.
"I . . . I tore my heart out in front of you! And here all you can say is 'no'!"
It was, before and after the motorbike, one of the worst moments of my entire life.
"I wish I had never taken this stupid job! I wish I had never met you! "
And she meant it. At that moment, she really meant it.
It was indescribably terrible.
I would have given near anything to take away her misery and pain.
Anything except Switzerland.
I could not give up Switzerland.
Neither the timing nor the decision itself.
And I could not lie to her.
Utterly and completely heartbroken, Louisa Clark stumbled away from me, barefoot and weeping.
Never had she left me alone so absolutely.
I called after her, into the yawning darkness.
"Louisa!"
Begging.
"Louisa!"
But she did not turn back.
She was gone.
I sat alone and looked out at the ocean waves.
They called to me.
Like soothing, deadly sirens to a drowning man begging for release, for reprieve.
If I could have driven my borrowed chair right into them.
Let them swallow me up and take me away.
Without causing any more heartbreak and sorrow to my crushed little sprite.
I would have.
In a heartbeat.
I'm sorry, Louisa. I'm so sorry.
But I can't.
I just can't.
Ugh, just . . . *sobs* . . . jeez, man.
*Sniffles*
Well, before I short-circuit my computer with my tears, I'll say thanks to DinahRay, maria190, FanFicFan305, rapunzelclayre, and Shortie1211 for reviewing so kindly.
*stumbles off, cries hysterically, husband bewildered*
