Me Before You Alternate Ending

"I think I love you, Will Traynor," I announced, the euphoria of our kiss rendering me bold.

He looked at me with the same intensity I saw in his gaze the night before, during the storm. A storm was gathering in his expression now. "You think? You have to be certain, Clark. You know what you're asking."

I tried to think. Think, Louisa! I commanded myself. This was the most important conversation I would ever have, and my mind was addled with alcohol and bliss. If only I had Katrina's way with words! I took his good hand in mine and fell to my knees beside him, entreating him with my body as well as my words. "I do know. In fact, it's the only thing I've ever known for certain, in my entire life: I want to be with you forever. For the past six months, you've been telling me that I'm not passionate enough. Well, I'm passionate now. Isn't that what you wanted?"

He was quiet for several minutes. "I want you to listen very carefully to what I say next, Clark," he said finally. I shivered at his tone, which was deadly serious. "You have to promise me something. It will not be easy. But it's the only way."

I did not trust myself to speak, but he was clearly waiting for my response. "Okay." My voice was shaky, irresolute.

"That night in the maze, I told you what I fear most. Do you remember what I said?"

"Yes." My voice was scarcely audible now.

"Tell me what I said. I want to hear you say it."

"Em, you said that you were afraid of getting worse. Of, um…" My mind raced frantically, trying to recall his exact words. "Of ending up stuck in a hospital bed on a ventilator—or something like that."

"Well then. If 'something like that,' as you put it so eloquently, does happen, you have to promise. You have to promise to take me to Dignitas."

Now it was my turn to be quiet. Even the remote prospect of accompanying him there was unthinkable. He was asking too much.

"Consider very carefully, Clark. Because it's the only way I will even consider changing my mind about next week. You must give your word of honor."

His phrasing, word of honor, sounded strange, incongruous—a vestige from the age of chivalry out of place in an island resort designed to erase the need for honor. For dignity. For Dignitas. I tried to imagine what it would be like to spend endless years in a hospital bed, unable even to breathe. I remembered what Nathan said about Will waking up screaming, and shuddered. Changing his mind—giving us a chance—took bravery I could not even imagine, let alone possess. But I would have to summon some bravery myself for his sake. It was, as he said, the only way.

"I promise," I said. My voice was firm and clear now. "I will take you to Dignitas if your condition worsens. Considerably," I added.

"And I decide what constitutes considerably."

I did not hesitate. "And you decide what constitutes considerably."

He looked satisfied with my response. "Good. Now come here. We've waited long enough. At least I no longer have to wish for Running Man to drown in some Icelandic sea."

I laughed and climbed on his lap. "You're terrible, Will Traynor." No one had even been chided in such an adoring tone.

For several minutes, we were silent; my greedy hands stroked his hair, his face. "How can I possibly be enough to replace what you've lost?" I asked eventually, my voice faint again now, barely above a whisper. "I'm not exactly Alicia."

"I won't put that pressure on you, Clark. It wouldn't be fair. There's no need, anyway. You've shown me that my life isn't quite over yet. I was thinking that we might call Mary, have her round for dinner. And no, you're certainly not Alicia. She wasn't enough to change my mind, was she?"

"Well, Will," I teased him. "It turns out you're not so hopelessly stubborn after all."

"I'll tell you what decided me, Clark. It occurred to me that there's one adventure I never experienced before the accident: love. I mean really being loved, for who I am." He gave me that lopsided grin I so adored. "And I've never been one to turn down an adventure."

Chapter 24

Apparently nothing delights flight attendants like an unconventional love story. They positively beamed at us. One, seeing me reverently kissing each of Will's fingers, turned away and wiped her eyes.

"It seems we're the in-flight entertainment, thanks to Clark's utter lack of restraint," Will observed drily to Nathan.

"Revolting," Nathan pronounced. "Speaking of in-flight entertainment, I'm going to watch a rom-com on demand. Nothing could be worse than this display. Not even a Hugh Grant film."

"Make fun of me all you want," I told them, laying my head on Will's shoulder. We had arranged the seating so I would be on the side of his good hand. He squeezed my fingers with his. "Nothing can bring me down today."

"Oh, that reminds me, Nathan," Will said casually, as though the news were an afterthought, "it appears you're going to be putting up with me a bit longer than expected."

"I'll survive, mate. The human spirit is strong and all that." Nathan's smile was radiant. I had told him first thing in the morning, of course. He had punched his fist in the air and shouted, "Well done, Louisa!"

The Traynors were waiting for us at the airport. I spotted them in the crowd and waved cheerily. Camilla blinked in surprise at my elation. Then her eyes widened when she saw our clasped hands, and they remained riveted there for some time. Her breath was suspended. Will was wicked, but he was not cruel: he would release her from the state of suspension. From her torture.

"When you call Dignitas, mother," Will said lightly, "I think you had better make a generous donation. It's not exactly cancelling dinner reservations at the local pub, is it?"

Camilla's mouth fell open, and for a moment I thought she would collapse. Steven must have thought so too, because he reached to steady her. Then, unexpectedly, she embraced me first, not Will—and with the intensity of a lover. She took my face in her hands and said my name over and over. "Louisa," she sobbed. "Oh, Louisa. To think I was so...Thank you. Oh, God, Louisa, thank you. I can never thank you...

For a few moments I was too shocked to move, unsettled to see Camilla Traynor be anything but aloof. Then I was sobbing too, my arms flung around her. Through my tears I saw Will look at his father, as if to say, "Can you believe the way women carry on?" But Mr. Traynor was crying too, noisily and shamelessly. Even Nathan had ducked his head to conceal his tears.

A crowd had formed around us, taking in the spectacle. I normally would have hated the attention, but I wanted everyone in the world to bear witness to my happiness, my victory. "Look at me," I wanted to shout, "Louisa Clark, who never got anything right in her life! Can any of you say you've ever known triumph or joy like this?"

Once we were back at the annex—my home now—I helped Will into bed well before it was time for sleep. I twined myself around him, pulling his good arm around me so his fingers could lightly stroke my back. There was no mystery between us anymore, except the mystery of love

"Tell me something good, Clark," he said quietly. "Tell me when you first knew."

"Knew what?"

He snorted derisively. "God, you really are a bit thick. When did you first know that you loved me?"

"Probably when I first realized you weren't going to drag me to any Viking competitions."

He snorted again, this time in laughter. "No, really. When did you know? The wedding?"

"Before that, I think," I said slowly. It was hard—impossible—to remember a time before I was in love with Will Traynor. "I probably knew consciously after the night in the maze, when I wished I could stay for all eternity with my head on your shoulder. God, you make me wish for eternity, Will Traynor." I sighed contentedly and kissed him. "But I think I probably loved you unconsciously from the first moment you smiled at me. I just didn't know it yet. What about you? And no jokes."

"Ah, but it was a joke that made me realize you were different. After I broke those picture frames, you made a crack about my wheelchair getting a flat tire. It was the first time anyone spoke to me like before…before..." His voice broke off, full of emotion.

I gently traced his tattoo with my finger. "Still best before 19 March 2007?"

He was quiet for several minutes, worried, perhaps, that he would offend me with a blunt confirmation. "My body, yes," he said quietly. "But the thing is, Louisa, the part of me that more superstitious people than I call the soul...I don't think that even existed—before you."