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“It’s possible. It’s rare, but when it does resurface, it’s usually pretty debilitating.”
That could explain it. Jeni was glad to have a possible answer.
“I want to be honest with you that it could also be something more serious,” the doctor continued. “Some of your white blood cells were atypical, or unusual in appearance. Along with your recent history of night sweats and fevers, I want to biopsy one of the lymph nodes and perform a bone marrow biopsy to rule out lymphoma or other blood disorder.”
Jeni’s stomach dropped, and for a second, she thought she might vomit.
Lymphoma? Andrew might have cancer?
Both Andrew’s and Logan’s faces had paled. Jeni probably looked the same. They were three ghosts in an emergency room.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news or more definitive news. We’ll know more in a day or two.” The doctor pursed his lips and tipped his head at Andrew. “Someone will be by shortly to transfer you to a room, and another physician will take over. They’ll give you more information about each procedure before they do anything, all right?”
“Um. Okay, thank you.” Andrew’s voice shook slightly.
Things moved pretty quickly after that, as the nurse came in immediately after the doctor left. They rolled Andrew to a room on the sixth floor, and a resident came in to introduce himself and explain the bone marrow biopsy. Evidently it would be done right there in the room and was a relatively simple procedure to draw tissue from the bone in Andrew’s pelvis.
Jeni and Logan were asked to leave during the procedure, and they walked down the hall to the empty waiting area, Logan a few strides behind her. He crossed the empty room to a row of chairs against the wall and sat with his elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands.
Jeni absently filled a cup of water. She walked to where Logan sat and stood next to him, downing the contents before setting the empty cup on a side table. Her legs felt wobbly, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. Her chin began to tremble, and she knew they wouldn’t be contained for long.
Logan stood and opened his arms to her.
She immediately turned away, not wanting him to see her cry. She inhaled a shaky breath and exhaled, the whoosh of air coupled with a soft sound of anguish. Her arm dropped to her side, and she sniffed, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
A hand gently brushed hers, the touch light and tentative.
Jeni relaxed a little and closed her fingers around his, taking some comfort in his gesture. Her initial withdrawal had been more reflex than a true desire to be alone. Maybe he sensed that.
She kept her hand in his but didn’t turn around and face him, and they stood there for several moments. She took a deep breath, and the clean scent of him surrounded her. For this brief moment, they put aside their disagreements and sarcastic banter.
Jeni had no idea what would happen next, whether they’d receive news that it was nothing serious or if their lives were about to change forever. But she did know one thing, and it surprised the hell out of her.
She was glad Logan was here.
He squeezed her hand and let go, and she looked back to find him lowering himself back into the chair. His blue eyes met hers, soft and sympathetic.
Sympathy wasn’t something she typically appreciated. She’d experienced her fair share of medical issues after the car accident, and people’s I’m sorrys and get better soons had become redundant and hollow.
Words didn’t change anything. Words couldn’t make her heal faster or return what she’d lost.
Her scholarship.
Her independence, even if that loss had been temporary. It had been long enough.
The life she’d always envisioned, with a man who loved her and a house full of children.
All of that had changed in an instant, and the only thing she could do was pivot and move forward in another direction. Set new goals and forge a new path, even if it was different than she’d ever imagined. It was easier said than done, and few people truly understood the impact that accident had had on her.
Strangely, though, what Logan offered her in this moment didn’t feel like pity. It was reassuring. And soothing. Something in his eyes told her he’d been here before and his sympathy was from a place of understanding and shared experience.
This wasn’t the first time she’d had that feeling, that there was more to him than he let people see.
What kinds of things did he keep hidden?
She sat beside him, resisting the urge to lay her head on his shoulder. She was suddenly exhausted, even though a quick glance at the wall told her it was barely eleven o’clock.
“Tell me something.” She kept her eyes on her feet and the old tennis shoes she’d slipped on in such a hurry. She hadn’t even put on socks.
