The newfound sense of boundless time had settled over Remy like a soft, heavy blanket. It was a beautiful, exhilarating sensation, but also profoundly disorienting. Her days, once a frantic race against an invisible clock, now stretched out endlessly, a vast, unexplored landscape. She still woke early, but the urgency that had propelled her out of bed had been replaced by a quiet wonder.
She sat at the RV's dinette, a fresh notebook open before her. Her original "things to eat before I die" list was pinned to the wall above it, now a relic of a past life. Beside it, she was attempting to start a new one. Things to do because I have all the time in the world.
"Okay," she murmured to herself, chewing on the end of a pen. "Learn to speak fluent Italian. Master the art of artisanal bread making. Adopt a ridiculously large, fluffy dog named Sir Reginald Fluffington. Start a cooperative farm run entirely by foster kids." She paused, then grinned. "Marry a grumpy mafia boss who secretly loves my chaos." She added that last one with a flourish, a warmth spreading through her chest.
Theo, who had been making coffee, a familiar ritual now, leaned over her shoulder, his arm brushing hers. He saw the new list, a faint smile touching his lips. "Planning for a very busy future, I see," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. His gaze lingered on the last item, a possessive gleam in his dark eyes.
Remy laughed, leaning back against him, feeling the solid strength of his chest against her back. "Someone has to. I've got a lot of catching up to do, Theo. All those years I thought I was on borrowed time? I'm reclaiming them. With extreme prejudice. And probably a lot of ridiculous hats."
Theo chuckled, his hand coming to rest lightly on her waist, his thumb stroking the soft fabric of her shirt. Their physical connection had deepened exponentially since their first kiss, a constant, comforting awareness that thrummed between them. Casual touches lingered, glances held, and the unspoken current of desire was a constant, warm presence. Remy found herself initiating them more often now, a newfound confidence blooming in her. The urgency that had fueled her previous life was gone, replaced by a quiet confidence that she had Theo, and a future.
While Remy was engrossed in sketching a blueprint for her future cooperative farm (complete with a dedicated "chupacabra petting zoo" enclosure), Theo slipped away, his burner phone pressed to his ear. He walked to the furthest corner of their secluded glamping spot, his back to the RV, his voice low and clipped.
"It's time," he muttered into the phone. "The ring. The specifications are the same as discussed. Discreet. Overnight delivery. To the drop-off point in Vegas. I need it by tomorrow morning." He listened for a moment, his jaw tight. "No, no issues. Everything is… clear. This is for her. And for us." He ended the call, his hand clenching the phone.
His heart pounded, a fierce, exhilarating rhythm. This was it. The next step. He had watched Remy these past days, observed her processing her new reality. The initial shock had given way to a quiet, profound joy, a sense of boundless freedom. She was planning, dreaming, speaking of "years" and "long-term commitment." And he, Theo, who had always lived by the rigid rules of his family and the unforgiving logic of survival, was doing the same. His life, once so meticulously guarded and controlled, was now irrevocably intertwined with hers, a beautiful, unpredictable tapestry.
He thought of the ring, a single, brilliant diamond, chosen with meticulous care. It wasn't just a symbol of commitment; it was a promise. A promise of all the time she deserved, all the years she thought she'd lost. A promise of forever. He felt a profound sense of rightness, a certainty that settled deep in his bones. He was doing the right thing. For them.
Returning to the RV, he found Remy humming, adding "learn to juggle flaming torches" to her list. She looked up, her blue eyes shining, utterly oblivious to the monumental task he had just set in motion, to the future he was actively pulling towards them.
"Theo," she said, her voice soft, contemplative, "do you think it's weird? To suddenly have... so much time? I mean, I always had this finish line, you know? And now it's just... gone. It's amazing. But also, a little bit like being set loose in a candy store the size of the universe. Where do you even start?"
He walked over to her, pulling her gently from her seat, wrapping his arms around her waist. He held her close, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "You start," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, "by not rushing. You start by just being. And then… we figure it out. Together." His hand slid lower, resting firmly on the small of her back, holding her tighter. "Every single moment, Remy."
She sighed, a contented sound, leaning into his embrace. Her head rested against his shoulder, her hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, her fingers threading into his hair. The subtle pressure of her touch, the warmth of her body, was a powerful, silent affirmation. The tension of their shared past, the shadow of her misdiagnosis, the lingering complications of his world – for this moment, they all faded into insignificance, eclipsed by the profound, undeniable promise of their future.