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I have to woman up and admit this.
Deep breath.
Slow exhale.
"I don't want to hear that my health is hard for you." I press my fingertips together. "I know it is, and I'm sorry, but it's hard enough for me. I can't take your feelings on top of mine."
"Oh, Chloe… no."
"No?" My brow furrows. What the hell does he mean no?
Dad's expression softens. "I'm sorry if I made you feel like you needed to take care of me. After your mom… it was a bruise. But all I wanted was to support you."
"You did, but—"
"You had to reassure me that it would be okay. Just like your mom did."
I nod. "I don't want you to apologize for being worried about me. I was worried too." I swallow hard. "But I can't take it again. I can't take those scared looks, like I'm a vase that's gonna break."
Dad shakes his head. "You've never been fragile."
My shoulders relax. He's trying. I'm not sure if he's going to get there. But he is trying.
Maybe it's not the worst thing in the world, talking about this.
Letting my family support me.
I do feel lighter. Broader. Bigger.
Like I can take up space instead of curling myself into this tiny box that reads Cancer Survivor.
"Maybe. I don't know." I take a bite of my crust. Savor the fluffy doughy flavor. "I… I know you want to help, Dad, but I don't want to hear that the chances are nothing. Or that I should call Dean and make up and ask him to come. If I want to break up with him, I can."
His expression screws with confusion. "You broke up with him?"
"He didn't mention that?"
"No." Epiphany fills his eyes. "That explains a lot."
"Does it?"
Dad nods. "He was upset. It seemed unlike him."
"You barely know him."
"I could tell." Dad's smile is soft. "You think I let just anyone take out my youngest child?"
"I'm twenty-four. You don't get to screen dates."
"We're never going to agree about that."
"You really like him?"
"He makes you happy. He treats you well. Unless he has a drug problem I don't know about, I love him."
"No. He's a good guy." I take a bite. Chew. Swallow. But it no longer tastes like cheese and tomato perfection. "Is he okay?"
"Why don't you call and ask?" His voice drifts to that Dad I know what's best tone.
