Page 52 of Unraveled

“Speaking of it all being over, I’m happy to go with you on Monday for your first chemo appointment.”

Kellan squeezed my hand under the table, probably wondering if I was about to pull a Jon Snow. But I wasn’t. I was accustomed to dealing with my mother not taking no for an answer.

“I appreciate it, but I’m good.”

“Who’s planning to go with you? Russell? Kellan?”

I knew that if I said either of their names, she would feel slighted. I’d never hear the end of it. “I’m going by myself. I have the rides coordinated, and I’ll have Patty, my nurse, here afterward.”

Her lips thinned, but thankfully, she said nothing more on the subject.

Luckily, the rest of dinner proceeded without me needing to use any safe words. The thought of blurting out Jon Snow cracked me up. At the same time, it did make me feel as though I had someone on my team. Not that my brother didn’t run interference when it came to my mom, but Kellan provided unbiased support. Whether he was holding my hand beneath the table or diverting my mother’s conversation the next time she mentioned my cancer, I was grateful.

After getting ready for bed by brushing my teeth, washing my face, and emptying my drains, I came out to my bedroom to see Kellan turning down the comforter. I was hit with such a wave of affection for him it was indescribable. It was also terrifying.

“No safe words needed to be invoked tonight,” he commented, giving me a smile.

“You know, I can think of better uses for safe words.”

His expression showed his shock, before he flashed his trademark sexy smirk. “Oh, yeah?”

A flicker of my former self-confidence lit up. “I’m just saying we never got to the kinky stuff.”

He walked over, looking amused. “I’m loving where this conversation is heading. Something to put on the bucket list?”

I liked that idea. “Item one: buy out the adult toy store. Then spend a weekend trying out everything.” The mere thought was leaving me tingly. I’d never been super adventurous in my sex life, but I’d always been curious.

His hands came around me gently, gripping my ass in a way which made me feel there was hope for us to have a normal sex life again. “I’m marking it in my calendar.”

“Me too. But in all seriousness, I appreciate you being willing to go to battle for me tonight. My mom has a hard time accepting I want to do things on my terms. She’s been this way since I turned fifteen and told her no more pageants.”

He leaned back, appearing as if he was about to say something, but stopped himself.

“What?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to speak out of turn.”

“Now you have to. You think I’m too hard on her?” Although I hated it when she pushed me to get her way, I also didn’t like the idea that I was always disappointing her.

“No. You’ve been clear about what you want, and you have a prerogative to do that. But it’s like she’s trying and doesn’t know what to say. Then it comes out wrong. What I’m attempting to say is you can tell she loves you, but she might not know how to handle this situation.”

I blew out a breath as I sat on the bed. “I know she loves me. But I feel like she’s mostly focused on how I’ll look after it’s done. As if I’m broken and no longer the image she has in her mind, so she needs to help fix me. She seems to forget I’m fighting cancer first and worrying about my future cup size later.”

“That was an awkward dinner conversation. But I don’t believe a mother could forget her daughter has cancer. She might be coping by glossing over it.”

I contemplated his words. “I guess I see what you’re saying.” For my whole life, my mother had worried about how things appeared. That made it easy to forget she might be having difficulty in processing my diagnosis.

“She asked me if dating you was a good idea right now.” Once the words were out of my mouth, I felt like a tattletale.

“We both know you seldom do what your mother tells you, so this bodes well for me.”

We shared a smile. “This is true.” I let out a breath. “I shouldn’t have told you about what she said. It was childish.”

“You need confirmation I’m on your side, and I get it. I am. Without a doubt. And not to beat a dead horse, but are you certain you don’t want anyone with you on Monday?”

My response was automatic. “I’m sure. It’ll be four to five hours of simply sitting there. I’ll read a book and watch Netflix. Patty will come by that afternoon.”

I was apprehensive and anxious, but I was hoping that once I walked in there, I’d be fine. I didn’t want anyone to take time off work and sit there for hours. I really would be fine. And maybe if I repeated it enough, I’d believe it.