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His mom...
God, how could I have been so stupid. I knew she was starting chemo today. How did I not put two and two together? If she had surgery at this hospital it would only make sense that her chemo would be here, too.
“Claire.” My voice quivering with a riddled sob, needing to get out of here before I completely melt down. My stomach twists but I don’t know if it’s from the chemo or because I find myself face to face with Abel under the worst conditions possible.
“We have to go.” Claire makes a bee line for the elevator, which has started pinging because it’s been open for so long. Without another word she wheels me inside, Abel’s clouded blue eyes the last thing I see before the elevator doors close between us.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” I chant to myself as the car starts to climb upward. “Oh my god,” I say again, on the verge of having a panic attack.
“It’s okay, Fin. It’s okay.” Claire kneels down in front of me, taking both of my hands in hers.
“Look at me,” I scream in her face. “Nothing about this is okay.”
“Honey, you’re sick. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of?” I draw back, catching sight of my reflection in the mirrored elevator doors. “Look at me.” I point to myself.
I look even worse than I thought. Dressed in light blue, plaid pajamas, my hair in a knot on top of my head which does little to hide the large bald area that stretches down the side. I have no make-up on, my cheeks are sunken in, and there are deep, dark circles lining both of my eyes. I look like death.
“Take a deep breath. He’s just a guy.”
“He’s notjusta guy,” I sob. “And now he’s never going to want to see me again.” Tears prick the back of my eyes.
I know I’m probably overreacting, but I can’t stop myself. It’s like every emotion I’ve bottled up over the last few days comes spewing to the surface and I can’t hold it back any longer.
“You know that’s not true. You’re just upset and tired. Once we get back to your room and you’ve had a chance to rest, you’ll feel differently. You’ll see.”
“Why am I so unlucky?” I croak, sniffing when Claire reaches out to wipe my cheeks with her thumbs.
“You’re not unlucky. You’ve just had a rough go of things as of late.”
“By, as of late, you mean my entire life.”
“Hey.” She tips my chin up and forces me to meet her gaze. “I promise this isn’t as bad as it seems. Who knows, maybe this will be a good thing.”
“How could this possibly be a good thing?”
“Because now you can tell him the truth and let the chips fall where they may.” She gives me a sympathetic smile, standing when the elevator stops climbing and the doors slide open.
My phone pings in my lap as she wheels me out into the hall, and even though I’m scared to look, I can’t stop myself at the same time.
Abel: You’re the friend Claire was visiting?
I feel horribly nauseous and have to swallow down the sudden urge I feel to vomit.
Me: Yes.
Abel: Explain. Now.
Me: Can you come to my house tomorrow? I should be home sometime in the afternoon. I’ll explain everything then.
Abel: Tell me what is going on, Finley.
Me: Tomorrow. I promise. I’ll text you what time.
I lock my phone and drop it back into my lap, letting out a slow and shaky breath. The moment I’ve been avoiding is here and now that he’s seen me, there’s nothing I can do to hide the truth.
Maybe Claire’s right. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this is our jumping off point. I made it through surgery and I’m nearly half way through chemo. Maybe now is as good of a time as any.
