Page 79 of Rescuing Mary

She thanked Rebecca after the meeting for giving her a heads-up. Everyone’s mood was subdued that day, but all Mary could think about was Truck and what he was going to say when she talked to him later that night.

She wasn’t ready to break the news that they were actually man and wife, but she was going to tell him about her cancer. One thing at a time. She was hoping that maybe learning about her cancer would somehow jog his memory enough that he’d remember their wedding ceremony all on his own, so she wouldn’t have to tell him and try to explain why he’d asked and, more importantly, why she’d finally said yes.

She guiltily thought about their framed marriage certificate still buried deep in one of the boxes she’d brought back to her apartment. She’d thought more than once about digging it out and hanging it up, but she didn’t want Truck to accidentally see it when he was over at her place.

But with every day that went by, it got harder and harder to keep things from Truck. She was pissed the day before, and deliberately dodged telling him about her appointment, but by the time she’d gotten home she’d felt so guilty, she’d already planned to head over to his place this morning to beg him to talk to her. Luckily, he hadn’t made her beg.

But now she had to find the courage to spill the beans. She didn’t want Truck to look at her with pity or treat her differently. It was hard to be the full-speed-ahead Mary all the time that people had come to expect. There were days where all she wanted to do was stay in bed and not see or talk to one single person.

Throughout the workday, her phone was constantly buzzing with incoming texts from all the girls. Rayne sent a selfie of her and Emily. Emily looked amazing after giving birth only the day before. But it was the picture of Annie holding her new brother that made tears well up in Mary’s eyes.

The little girl looked positively ecstatic. It was adorable and beautiful at the same time. The thought that she might’ve missed seeing this if Truck hadn’t browbeaten her into marrying him was painful. He’d done the right thing. As hard as going through the treatments again had been, seeing Annie and her baby brother made it worth it.

When Mary had asked Rayne what Emily and Fletch had named their son, she’d reported back that no one knew yet. The Fletchers were throwing a welcome-home party when Em and the baby were released from the hospital, which should be by that weekend, and they were going to reveal it then.

Mary had merely shook her head. Emily loved having people over, loved even more when everyone was there. Despite what had happened at her wedding, she loved a big, boisterous party.

By the time four-thirty came, Mary was done mentally. The day had sucked. Everyone was depressed, it had seemed like there were more customers than normal, and Mary had to give another tour of the safety-deposit vault to another shady potential customer.

She’d tried to talk to Jennifer once more, to explain that something was very wrong and she needed to get extra security in or something, but her boss once again blew her off. She tried to tell herself it was because Jennifer was knee-deep in the reorganization of the staff and trying to figure out when the new machines for the lobby were going to arrive, but something didn’t sit right with Mary.

There was a feeling of wary anticipation in the air that Mary couldn’t help but think was going to bite them all in the ass. Not one of the young men who’d toured the vault had come back to return the application and actually rent a box. Not a single one. Which gave more credence to the fact that they were up to no good. Why Jennifer was ignoring all the signs pointing to something big, Mary couldn’t fathom.

When Mary left the bank at the end of the day, she was fried. Mentally done. The stress of knowing she was most likely going to be unemployed, worrying about if, or when, the gang members were going to make a move, and thinking about what she was going to tell Truck, not to mention skipping lunch, had all worked to make her want to go home and bury herself in her bed covers and not come out for a week.

But she’d told Truck she’d be over after work, and she wasn’t one to go back on her word. Knowing she should probably wait until she was in a better frame of mind, Mary knocked on Truck’s apartment door anyway.

It opened almost immediately and Truck smiled down at her with his lopsided grin. An urge to collapse against him and let him take care of her swept over Mary, but she resisted.

“Hi,” he said. “How was your day?”

“Shitty,” Mary said bluntly.

He looked surprised at her answer, but then his face gentled and he reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry, Mare. Come in. Let me get you something to drink. You hungry?”

Mary allowed him to pull her into his place and shut the door behind her. She didn’t answer him as he walked toward his kitchen, her hand secure in his.

It felt good.

It reminded her of how he’d always taken care of her when she’d been sick.

And suddenly she was tired of it all.

She didn’t like keeping secrets from Truck, but she really hated having to tell him about her cancer. She didn’t like to talk about it, would prefer to pretend it never happened at all…and she resented that she was in this position in the first place.

Mary knew her feelings were irrational, but she couldn’t help it. She’d gone to see a therapist at her doctor’s urging when she’d been diagnosed a second time. He’d assigned her the task of writing down her feelings in a journal, then bringing it in so they could talk about what she’d written. Mary had gone back once then stopped altogether.

She didn’t like sharing her feelings. She’d continued to write in the damn journal here and there, but ultimately it didn’t make her feel any better. Mary had no idea where the stupid thing was now, probably at the bottom of one of the boxes the girls packed up when they’d moved her out of Truck’s apartment, but she suddenly had the urge to write in it again. To pour out everything she was feeling right now.

“Mare?” Truck asked again. “Want me to fix us something for dinner?”

He’d let go of her hand and was standing in front of the refrigerator looking at her, waiting for her to answer.

“I had breast cancer,” she blurted. “Twice. I had a double mastectomy. I know almost all of the nurses at the hospital because I was there so much. That’s what that nurse was talking to me about yesterday. I missed my appointment with my doctor to talk about my breast reconstruction because I just can’t deal with that yet.”

She stared at Truck defiantly. That wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to tell him, but the words simply spilled out of her. She couldn’t deal with making small talk and pretending everything was all right. She just needed to tell him. And now she had. The ball was in his court.

Mary’s words caused Truck’s stomach to clench painfully. After his flashbacks, or memories, or whatever they were, he’d had a hunch that was her big secret, but hearing her confirm it so bluntly was jarring.