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“She made it very clear that she still has feelings for me, which is why she had the ‘kicked puppy’ look. Previously, she’d asked if I was married and I told her no, so when she walked in and saw you, I think she thought I lied to her.”
Harley frowns. “I’m sorry that she thought that. I can talk to her if you want.”
“No,” I wave her off. “I talked to her and told her we were just friends. Anyway, we spent the majority of that evening hashing stuff out and I think it really helped. There were things that both of us needed to get off of our chests. I just wish we could’ve said them eight years ago.”
Harley nods in understanding. “So where does that leave you now?”
“It leaves me with a friend and a constant hard-on. Ow!” I laugh when Harley slaps the side of my head.
“Promise me something?” My eyes roll back into my head and I groan. I hate it when she starts off with that. Harley is glaring at me with her lips pursed and brows furrowed. I wave my hand, urging her to get on with it. “You always told me that you’re never going to settle down. You said you’ll never open your heart back up to the possibility of love.” I nod. She’s right, but the vow I made myself eight years ago doesn’t seem as strong today as it did at the time. Not that I’m going to tell her that. “You’re an incredible man, Levi. You’ve got this big huge heart that’s made of solid gold, and I really don’t want to see it go to waste. So promise me you’ll keep an open mind. Don’t close yourself off to the possibility of love. If you have feelings, then you need to act on them, and if you don’t, then you need to be upfront with her so you don’t lead her on.”
“Thank you, Hallmark,” I answer sarcastically, turning to look at Tyson when he busts out laughing. Harley shoots him a stern glare and he just shrugs his shoulders.
“Leave the man alone, babe!” Ty hollers, making his way toward us.
“Do you promise?” she asks, completely ignoring her fiancé.
“I promise.” That’s not a complete lie. I do plan on keeping an open mind when it comes to Laney, but I’m still not so sure about the whole love-and-forever thing. That part may take a while.
“Levi!” Max yells, plowing out the back door and into the yard. “Wanna play soccer?”
“Absolutely.” If her loud huff is any indication, I’m certain Harley wasn’t done—but I sure as hell am. This little boy is growing up way too fast, and if he wants to play soccer, then soccer we will play.
I WILL NOT CRY.
I will not cry.
Dang it.
Tears burn hot behind my eyes and despite my silent pleas to keep them away, I just can’t. The water from the shower is pouring off my body and I just stand and let it all out. I can’t fight my emotions anymore. I can’t hold everything in. I’ve been on the verge of tears all weekend and it’s been pissing me off.
I should be happy and optimistic. My first treatment went off without a hitch and I feel pretty good, if you don’t count the extreme fatigue that is plaguing me despite having slept for ten hours last night. I have no nausea, no vomiting, and yet I feel like I’m dying on the inside. Oh wait . . . that’s because I am.
The thought of dying is what does it—it’s what finally pushes those tears past the confines of my lashes. And this time, I let it. I let it consume me. I let it own me in hopes that purging it from my system now will give me a renewed strength to fight it later. Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I fold my body in two. Tears race down my face, emotion crawls up my throat and a loud sob rips from my lungs.
I can’t believe this is happening.
I don’t want to die.
I’m not ready to die.
I have way too many things that I still want to do in life, like get married, and have babies, and grandbabies, and travel to Italy . . . or better yet, Paris. I want to kiss my husband atop the Eiffel tower under a blanket of stars. I want to go whale-watching off the coast of Alaska, ride in a hot-air balloon over a reserve in Africa, and make love on the beaches of Bora Bora.
For the first time, it hits me that I may not ever get the chance to do those things. I’ve thought about dying, but only in the abstract. I’ve never actually thought about all of the things that I could potentially miss out on.
My trembling hands ball into fists and I pray for the strength to make it through this. If I can just make it through this.
Stay positive.
Think good thoughts.
That’s what the nurse told me.
“Good morning, Laney.” Her smile is way too bright for an oncology unit, if you ask me, but I suppose there’s a reason for that. “My name is Heather, and I’m going to get you started.” I follow behind her, but I don’t talk. She leads me into a small private room that has a hospital bed, one of those really uncomfortable hospital recliner chairs and a TV. An IV pole sits in the corner and I look away, trying to ignore the bags of clear fluid that are already hanging from the metal hooks. “First treatments can be emotional, so everyone gets the option of having theirs in private. You’re more than welcome to receive your treatment out on the floor with the rest of the patients, if you’d like. It’s completely up to you.”
“This is fine,” I mumble. Heather smiles and pats my arm.
“I can’t imagine how scary this must be for you, but we’re going to make it as painless as possible. Feel free to take your shoes off and relax, make yourself comfortable. Most patients prefer to sit up in the chair, but you’re going to be here for several hours so if you’d prefer to, you can lie in the bed.”
