He winced. Now she chooses to be nosy. “They were there too, of course.” He frowned. “But this strange … resentfulness seemed to develop. They never directed it at my sister, but it manifested in other ways.”

“The other day on the beach … you said they were selfish.”

“They were.” He picked at the filling on his cookie. “My sister went into remission at ten; by the time she was twelve, they were divorced.”

“You’d think going through something like that together would make a couple stronger,” Julia mused.

“You’d think.” He shook his head. “It was too much for them. Her illness. The difficulties of watching her suffer, the exhaustive schedule of hospital stays and treatments, the burden of medical bills.” Luke shoved the cookie in his mouth, not wanting to talk about this anymore. Not wanting to spoil this special night by poisoning it with the past. Sharing a little about his sister was one thing, but he didn’t want to taint the moment with thoughts of his parents. Those emotional vampires had sucked enough happiness out of his life.

“I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been, but I think I can understand … a little.” Julia said. She stared down at her half-eaten half of a cookie. “The summer before I started college, I got really sick. Nobody could figure out what was wrong with me. For a while, the doctors thought it might be thyroid cancer, but it turns out I had Graves’ disease, which actually sounds much scarier than it is.”

Sensing she had more to say, Luke waited, silently urging her to continue.

“I mean, it’s scary but manageable. It’s definitely nothing like cancer. I just need to be on meds for the rest of my life. See a doctor regularly to monitor my symptoms, and get my thyroid checked occasionally to make sure I don’t develop cancer later.” Julia sighed. “And all that costs money and requires insurance, so…” She broke the last bit of her cookie into two tiny halves.

“So…?” Luke pressed gently.

“So you end up being forced to choose what you need over what you want.” She considered the fragmented pieces. “And sometimes having to choose can make you resentful.”

“Can’t it be both?” Luke asked. “What if what you need is what you want?”

She laughed, finishing off her cookie. “That sure would make life a lot easier, wouldn’t it?”

Her laughter washed over him, cleansing the bitterness from his thoughts. Luke pulled her close, scattering cookie wrappers and crumbs without a care. “All I know right now,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face, “is that I need you.” He kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other. “And I want you.”