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“Don’t forget to eat your bread,” Hector said.
“Even when we got the diagnosis, she didn’t cry. She just looked at the doctor and said, ‘Right, how do I fight this thing? What do I do?’ Me? I was falling apart. I couldn’t believe it was happening.”
Hector took her hand.
She had started to shake, a little unnerved by the memories.
Verity remembered sitting in that doctor’s office and feeling like her world was ending. Nothing could happen to her mother. Nothing, and then all of a sudden, she was given this hard reality check where something was going to indeed happen to her mother.
“So, Mom didn’t wait around. They did everything. The chemo, the drugs, all of it. I was by her side, and even when she was having an off day, she still made me get in front of that camera and share my food with the world. I thought it was going to work. She was so strong. So determined. The doctor had told me that a good state of mind would help. A fighting one, and my mom, she had that.”
Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision.
“It wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter how hard my mom fought, or what she thought she was capable of. Nothing was ever good enough because the cancer didn’t go. It kept on coming back.” She sniffled. “Even when she got the terminal diagnosis and given a … an estimate of how long she’d live, she was still fighting ’til the end. She didn’t once give up.”
“I’m so sorry,” Hector said.
“I miss her so much. If she was here right now, this book, it would have already been written. She wouldn’t have allowed me to give up. She must be so ashamed right now.”
“No, I don’t think for a second that is true. Your mom would never be ashamed of you.” Hector reached out to push some of her hair behind her ear. “I’m thinking that no matter where she is, she’s your cheerleader and she only wants what is best for you.”
Verity smiled. “She would have adored you.”
“I am a catch with the ladies.” He winked at her.
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you, but I am so glad that I did.” She sighed, realizing what she said, she quickly sat up. “Not that this is … er, wow. Do you want something to drink?”
She had to put distance between them.
Before Hector could stop her, she was already to the fridge, opening it up and looking inside for some wine or beer. She never really stored any for drinking herself.
Every now and then, she’d have a beer if she’d purchased some for a recipe, but that hadn’t happened recently.
“Verity, don’t run away,” Hector said, joining her in the kitchen.
“I’m not running away. I’ve got nothing to run away from or to.” She chuckled and even to her own ears, it sounded false. She tried not to cringe to give the game away.
“Do you want to talk about the cursed-house thing again?” he asked.
“You believe in that?” From the moment Hector mentioned it, Verity couldn’t help but wonder.
There were feelings building inside her that she wasn’t accustomed to. This was Hector Carter, the bully from her childhood years. A complete and total asshole, and yet, she had felt herself falling for him.
It scared the crap out of her.
Love and romance were not in the cards for her, at least she didn’t think they were.
“Maybe,” Hector said. “You can’t deny that something isn’t … at work here.”
She licked her lips and shook her head. “Wow, so you think that … no, you know what? I don’t want to do this. Please leave.”
“What the hell is going on?” Hector asked.
“I’m asking you to leave because right now what you’re insinuating with pointing between us is that the only way you and I could ever be together is because of some stupid outside force. Is that because you couldn’t for a second imagine being with someone like me?”
“Whoa, you just … enough.”
“No, not enough. Get out. This between us, it’s not going to happen. You’re here for a vacation, and I’m here to work on my cookbook. I don’t need this with you. I don’t need you to think that the only reason you could fall in love with someone like me is because of some super paranormal fate or whatever the hell it is working between us.”
She wasn’t in a very confident mood.
“That is not what I’m saying.”
Cutie had come to hear what the commotion was about, but Verity moved Hector toward the door. Opening it up, then throwing him right back out.
Before he got a chance to say another word, she slammed the door, flicked the lock, and then collapsed against it.
She didn’t hear him leave, and she slowly moved down the door, drawing her knees up to her chest and feeling the tears coming so close to the surface, threatening to spill over.
