The Second Time Around

By Stephanie Ward

As a young child who grew up in deep east Texas Stephanie
ward imagination took her on many journeys from slaying
dragons to out of space odysseys but it wasnt until years
later that she started to write . A gift that she didnt know she
had until tragic occurred in her life. As a way to deal with grief
and pain she took pen to paper writing short novels and poems.
When she is not busy writing she is spending time with her two
sons Brandon and Joseph. She is also a full time student in hopes
of obtaining her bachelor degree in clinical laboratory science
where she hopes to work in research.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469164175

Book preview

Chapter 1

Six months! This can’t be happening. Logan, why didn’t you tell me this months ago? Camille screamed at her husband of five years.

Calm down, babe, and let me explain! I did not want to upset you! This is my battle, Camille, and I have to fight it!

Camille jumped out of bed, raced to the bathroom, and slammed the door.

When did this marriage become just about you, Logan? I love you with all my heart and cannot live without you. What am I going to do, huh? You are all I have.

Baby, open the door, please, and let me talk to you. Let’s not fight.

Camille slowly opened the door and ran into the arms of the man she fell in love with the first time she set eyes on him. She cried uncontrollably and slumped to the floor.

Baby, don’t cry, please, Logan pleaded.

Regret hit him like a ton of bricks. Why couldn’t I just tell her the cancer had returned months ago? He had walked around for seven months in denial that he would soon die from the same cancer that had claimed his grandfather many years ago. Seeing his wife in a fetal position crying hysterically had ripped his heart out. He had questioned God many times, Why me? He was only thirty-five years old, worked out every day, and ate healthy. Now he sat on the floor, a shell of the former man he used to be.

Please do not leave me, he heard his wife say.

Her words brought him out of his thoughts, and he dropped to the floor, scooped his wife up into his arms, and carried her to their bed. He laid her down, placed himself between her legs, and rested his forehead against hers.

I love you, Camille. You are the love of my life. I need you to stop crying and listen to me, okay?

He rose off his wife and pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

I don’t want you to be sad. I need you to be strong, okay? I want us to enjoy the time we have left. Let’s celebrate our love. Can you please do that for me?

Camille looked into his eye and detected a certain sadness and fear. She knew his time with her was short. I need to be strong for him. I can fall apart later on, but right now my man needs me, and damn it, I’m going to be there for him. She pulled herself together and dried the tears from her eyes. She looked at him with love, and she kissed his soft lips with so much passion she felt the tension leave his body. They fell on the bed together, and she whispered, Baby, I am here for you always, please know that. We will live life one day at a time, okay?

Okay, Logan replied. I love you, you know that, right?

I never doubted your love for me, but if you ever keep anything else from me this way, I will string you up by your nuts!

Logan laughed and kissed the lips of the woman who held his heart and soul.

Chapter 2

Paging Dr. Camille Miller, can you please come to the front desk? You have a visitor. Camille overheard her name being called on the intercom.

Who in the world could this be? Leaving the restroom, she made her way to the lobby of her office.

Rounding the corner, she caught the sight of the person who was there to visit her. Why is she, of all people, here?

She had avoided this woman like the plague. Looking at this woman brought up memories of her husband. She lifted her head up to ward off the tears that were threatening to expose her. She walked out to greet her visitor.

Hello, Debra, how are you? Debra turned around and ran to Camille with her arms outstretched. She wrapped her arms around Camille and began to cry.

Where have you been, Camille? We have missed you so much!

Afraid of other people overhearing their conversation, Camille escorted Debra into her office. Once inside, she ushered her sister-in-law to a seat in the corner of her office and sat adjacent to her.

How have you been, Debra? Camille raised her brows in curiosity.

Miserable. How do you think I’ve been? Since Logan died, you’ve stopped coming by, and you won’t even accept our phone calls. Mom said to give you time to come around, but two years, Cam, is too long!

Camille rose from her desk to sit next to Debra.

Debra, it isn’t that I’m avoiding you guys.

Bullshit! Debra screamed at the top of her lungs. Once my brother was in that damn ground, you cut ties with the whole family! We love you, can’t you see that?

Camille began to cry and slumped down in her chair. I miss him so much. Debra walked over to console her sister-in-law. She grabbed Camille by the shoulders and held her chin up in her hands to face her.

We all miss him. Logan wouldn’t want to see you this way. This isn’t what he wanted your life to become after he left. He made me promise him that I would look after you and make sure you didn’t hurt yourself or put your life on hold.

The words Debra uttered, hurt yourself, kept resonating in Camille’s ears. Camille thought about the night Logan passed away. He’d refused to go back into the hospital to die. He’d wanted to be home when he left this world. It had taken two years to reach that point. The doctors had told him it was a miracle that he had lived this long. The cancer had consumed his whole body. He had been in bed day after day in pain. She recalled a conversation they had shared.

Logan whispered to his wife, Come here. Camille rushed to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. Are you okay? Do you need more pain medicine?

A weak laugh escaped his lips as he patted the bed. Camille lay down next to her dying husband and gazed into his eyes. As tears escaped her eyes, Logan went to wipe them, but he was too weak. Taking his hand into hers, she pressed her lips to his clammy hand. Feeling the life leaving him, Camille wanted him to know how much he meant to her.

I love you, Logan. Weeping, she dropped her head onto his shoulder.

Please, God, stop this from happening. Please do not take him away from me.

Look at me now, Camille.

The tone of his voice held so much strength, she thought God had given her the miracle she prayed for.

Looking into his eyes, she replied, Yes, Logan, what is it?

I want you to promise me something. Can you do that? he whispered.

Yes, anything, babe. Just tell me what you want me to do.

He peered into her eyes and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Promise me that when I leave, you will not hurt yourself.

She saw him turning pale as he closed his eyes. Camille checked to see if he was okay. She picked up his wrist and felt his weak pulse. She went into the drawer next to her bed and pulled out the letter she’d written to Logan’s family and her close friend Kayla detailing her wishes for her and Logan. She read over the suicide letter she’d written. It went on and on about how she couldn’t go on without him and how life was pointless in continuing.

She had planned that after Logan had passed, she would go into her medicine cabinet and get a bottle of sleeping pills. She could not fathom a life without him. He was her world, all that she had. Life would be pointless, so why continue to live if he wasn’t with her?

How did he know? she said aloud, thinking Logan was resting.

I saw your letter, Logan said. She jumped off the bed, startled. When you were sitting at your desk, I heard you crying. You were writing something down, and I knew it had to be something pertaining to me. And when you placed it in your dresser and left to go take a shower, I inched over until I was able to reach it and read it.

Camille shook her head, got up, and paced the floor of their bedroom. Logan, why?

Because you have a full life to live, and I want you to be happy. I want you to move on and marry again and have babies. I can’t leave knowing you will hurt yourself. I wouldn’t be able to rest in peace knowing the love of my life took her life. She could see his eyes; they were half-closed and bloodshot.

He closed his eyes completely and let the exhaustion overtake him. His breathing slowly became labored as he drifted off into a deeper sleep. She watched him sleeping the rest of the night. He tossed and turned violently, then finally screamed out, Promise me you won’t hurt yourself, please… Promise me before I leave! She sensed the torture and anguish in his voice, as if he were was experiencing a nightmare.

She started sobbing and ran over to him and knelt by his side.

Logan, I promise you, I promise!

It continued for some time like this. Camille tried her best to make Logan’s final days as comfortable as possible. The doctor had mentioned that he had only about two months left. Camille knew his time was drawing near. She had cut back to only working a few hours a week so that she was at his bedside taking care of him.

He experienced profound weakness and couldn’t get out of bed and had trouble moving around in bed. He needed help with nearly everything he did. He had no appetite or desire to drink. He had trouble swallowing his medicine. Camille thanked the Lord that she had been trained medically to handle the situation as she knew he didn’t want to go into a hospice in his last days.

Logan slept most of the time, and when he did manage to wake, they would talk about happier times and just lie in each other’s arms until he drifted off to sleep again. The nights were difficult. He was highly anxious and fearful. He was restless and grabbed at the sheets while sleeping. His attention span was short. She tried reading his favorite books to him for comfort and for making the time pass, but she could only read him two or three chapters before he became drowsy from the medication. He started to become more and more confused about where he was and what time it was. He even began to not know who Camille was. She had to remind him constantly of who she was to him.

He experienced involuntary movement in his muscles. There was jerking of his hands, arms, legs, and face. She made sure to turn him every two hours. She drew the curtains closed and tried to reduce any sudden noises or movements that would start his startle reflex. She spoke in a calm, quiet voice. She applied cool moist wipes to his head, face,