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I’m not sure I know what those two are anymore.
“I’m sorry,” Grace sighs. “Here I’m raging when you’re the one who actually has to go through it all, but I’m scared. Scared for you. Scared of what this all means.”
“Me too.” I lean my head on her shoulder. Turning my hand, I interlock our fingers. “I know I might seem calm, but I’m not. I can’t concentrate on that fear because if I do, it’ll overwhelm me, and I won’t be able to breathe. And with chemo a few weeks away…”
“We’ll get through it,” Grace nods decisively. “But enough about that. We’re almost home, and I have some time before my class. So how about some coffee and scones? My treat.”
I let out a soft chuckle, “How can I say no to scones?”
* * *
“Dammit,”I mutter as the pain slices through me. I drop my hands, closing my eyes to fight the angry tears threatening to come up.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
I will no—
“Jade?” My whole body freezes at the sound of the familiar voice. I stop, trying to hear over the sound of the shower, hoping I only imagined it when… “Jade? Where are you?”
Shit.
“Jad—”
Even through the foggy glass, I can see the doorknob turn.
“Don’t come in,” I say quickly before he can push the door open.
I can’t have him see me like this. Not…
“What do you mean, don’t come in?”
“Just like I said, don’t come in,” I bite out, the irritation, fear, and unease making me snappy.
“What are you doing? I can hear the shower.”
“That’s because I’m in the shower. Please just…”
“I’m coming inside.”
Quickly, I turn my back to the door, placing my hands over my chest the best I can.
“Jade?” Prescott asks softly. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I ask, my eyes glued to the shower wall. “I know you’re used to smelly locker rooms, Wentworth, but I figured even you’re familiar with the concept of a shower.”
“I mean, what are you doing taking a shower all on your own, not even a couple of weeks after surgery?”
“My doctor gave me the all-clear.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Prescott sighs.
“I don’t care. Can you just go? I’ll be out in a few.”
The door rattles, making me jump out of my skin. “Prescott, I told—”
“You’ll be out with half of your hair shampooed?” he asks from right behind me.
