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For everything that could have been but never will.
It was all just borrowed time.
CHAPTERTHREE
PRESCOTT
I have cancer.
I have cancer.
I have cancer.
I have cancer.
The words echo in my head on repeat. Blue eyes filled with unshed tears and so much sorrow burned into my mind.
I have cancer.
Pushing my apartment door open, I stumble inside and go straight for the kitchen, pulling open one of the cabinets. The door bangs against the other cabinet, the sound ringing loudly in an otherwise quiet room as I grab the first bottle and yank the cap off. I bring it to my mouth and take a pull straight from the bottle.
I have cancer.
Three words.
How can three little words, three short seconds, shatter somebody’s life completely?
My eyes fall shut as the liquid burns its way down my throat, making my eyes water.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“What the fuck, dude?” Spencer asks as he enters the kitchen. “Are you drunk?”
“Not now, Spencer,” I groan, swaying on my feet. I grab the counter to steady myself as the world continues spinning around me.
“Are you shitting me? You enter like Rambo, probably waking up half the building in the process…”
I have cancer.
Turning on the balls of my feet, I throw the bottle at the wall—the glass shatters, amber liquid splashing everywhere. “I said not the fuck now, Spencer,” I yell.
Before he can say another word, I grab a new bottle from the cabinet and go toward my bedroom. I slam the door behind me, not bothering to turn on the light. I can hear Spencer calling my name, but I lock the door before falling to the floor.
I have cancer.
“Fuck you, Jade.” Uncapping the bottle, I take a long pull. “Fuck you. Fuck your half-truths and pretty little lies.”
But no matter how much I drink, I can’t erase the look on her face as she admitted the truth.
How long had she known? How long has she hidden it from me?
I look back, trying to see the signs that I might have missed, signs that she’s keeping secrets from me, but there is nothing apart from her not wanting me to touch her boobs.
Nothing else.
She knew.
She knew my secrets. She knew my nightmares. She knew about Gabriel. She knew what had happened, and still, she decided to keep it from me.
