Ben waves. She and her husband wave back.
Right at the beginning, when he emailed me that day and asked me to help get her into the clinical trial, who knew we would end up like this? That we’d be standing here looking at a woman who’d been given weeks to live, and here she is, months later, enjoying the opening of a retreat that could help families like hers.
I have to admit, I feel damn proud.
Ben steps up to the microphone. Amy edges to the front of the crowd; Ivan links his fingers through hers as if anchoring her there. I smile, and they both beam back. It's not only me who is proud today.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming here today," Ben says. "When I came up with the idea of building this retreat, I never thought my life would change so much because of it.” He takes a breath. His jaw ticks, nervous. This means so much to him. “Not only have we gained a place for cancer patients to live more, but I’ve gained a life I never thought I deserved.”
There is a round of applause. My cheeks heat. He gives me a look that would melt ice caps.
“But the real lady of the hour is Antonia Cole. She believed in my vision. She helped me bring it to life. I’m proud to have worked with her on this project.” He passes me the scissors, ridiculously oversized. “It’s your day,” he whispers. “Cut the ribbon. Make it official.”
I take the scissors, then walk over to the red satin ribbon protecting the door. The blades slice through in one slick movement. It falls away, left hanging loose at the sides.
And there we are.
The Bex Corrigan-Jones Retreat is officially open.
We did it.
The crowd cheers, protesters silenced by the positivity. Anna Collins smiles wide.
Ben steps up beside me, slips his arm around my waist, and leads me off stage. We walk down into the throng of people, talking and shaking hands with anyone in our path.
Anna and her husband come weaving through the crowd. She pulls me into a hug, taking me by surprise.
“Ben said that you were the one who got me into the trial,” she gasps. “Thank you from me, from my family. And for everything you’re doing for people suffering just like us. You’re an angel.”
Ben squeezes my fingers, sheer pride in his eyes. “She is an angel,” he says. “And she doesn’t realize it.”