Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Koen frowns, but he unties his boots. “Do you regret letting Scottie walk away? Do you regret not fighting for her?”
“No.” I glance over at him as he steps barefoot into the grass.
He narrows his eyes as if my immediate response isn’t what he expected.
“I’m going to say something that you might not like hearing, but maybe you can at least grasp a better sense of understanding. While there’s only a three-year age difference between me and Scottie, her innocence felt magnified twelve years ago. I didn’t know she was a virgin until I was in the process of taking her virginity.”
Koen frowns, brow tense.
“She was innocent in every way. Uninspired by money and status. Oblivious to big dreams and accolades of success. But take her out of the city to stare at the stars or sit in the grass at the park and listen to the birds, and then you see Scottie Rucker. A human unlike anyone I had met or will ever meet in my life. But even in those moments where I should have let myself be more like her, all I could think was … how can I capture the stars and the sound of birds and sell it?” I laugh. “I wanted to make money. And I was good at it. She jokes about world domination, but she’s not wrong. I’ve made a fuck-ton of money.” I slowly shake my head and rub my lips together. “And the fruits of my labor are literally killing me. So I regret not learning more from Scottie, but I don’t regret not fighting for her. She’s exactly where she’s meant to be.”
Koen gives me a half grin. “She loves big.”
I chuckle. “Being loved like that is … indescribable.” I close my eyes for a moment and think of her.
A buzzing noise in the distance pulls our attention toward the sky.
“Some rich fucker flying an ultralight along the river,” Koen mumbles.
“Have you ever flown one?”
He grunts, giving me the hairy eyeball. “What do you think?”
I park my fists on my hips and stare at the plane in the distance. “I think we should go fly one today.”
“You can fly one?”
I nod.
“I have to work. I’m already late.”
I shrug. “Call in sick.”
Koen eyes me with concentration. “You just happen to have a plane here?”
“No.”
“Can you rent them?”
Again, I shrug. “Fuck if I know. If not, I’ll buy one. Or I know a few people who have homes here along the river. One of them surely has a plane. We rich fuckers have all the toys.” I wink at him while heading toward the porch door.
Two hours later, we’re in the air.
“God, I’ve missed this. I really should take more time to play,” I say, surveying the winding river below.
Koen adjusts his headset and shoots me a quick grin. It’s the biggest one I’ve seen from him. I would have done this weeks ago if I knew a little aircraft fun was all he needed to settle into our bromance.
“Have you taken Scottie flying?”
“Nope. I only took her virginity. I wanted to leave her with a few firsts for her husband to give her.”
“Fuck you, Milloy.” Koen laughs.
Like true bros, we go to lunch after we land to let our adrenaline rush subside. Koen says nothing about my salad or sixteen ounces of pressed juice until our empty plates and glasses are removed from the table.
“Do you think that’s really curing you? Eating like a rabbit?”
“Curing me? Hell if I know.” I dig cash out of my pocket and give him a headshake when he tries to pull money from his wallet. “But it’s not killing me. It matters what fuel you put into your car or that plane. Changing the oil. Regular maintenance. Not pushing things past their limit. We respect the need to nurture gardens, house plants, and animals so they thrive instead of getting sick and dying. Yet, when it comes to humans and disease, we lose our minds and completely disregard common sense things such as good nutrition, mental and emotional nourishment, and reducing stress. So, sitting in a hospital with chemicals dripping into our veins becomes the norm because we’ve been led to believe it’s the only option. And it is an option that sometimes works out.
“But listen, man, I have terminal cancer. Chemo and surgery don’t have a good track record with my kind of cancer. So I have nothing to lose by eating like a rabbit. All this to say … I’ve approached my diagnosis and grim prognosis with my eyes wide open. I’ve researched and questioned everything, as everyone should, because only then can you make an informed decision.”
Koen nods slowly. “Had they told you the chemo would give you another five years, would you have made the same decision?”
I lift a shoulder. “Possibly. But I don’t know. No matter how much you try to imagine what you would do in a situation, you don’t know until you’re in it. And I don’t know how long I’ll live. I’m taking it a day at a time. But I was told that without treatment, I had three months at best. Listen … I’m living on borrowed time.”