My vision swam as I turned my head, registering the figure next to me—not quite as tall as Heath and with dark hair instead of blond.
“You need more water? I didn’t hear you come out of your room,” Adam said, reaching for my metal water bottle. “I should have checked your water but you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you.”
I pulled the water bottle away from him when he reached for it. “What are you doing here?”
He straightened. “Giving Heath the night off. I told him I’d camp out here in case you needed anything overnight. Heath’s out with Connor at a movie.”
“I was going to fill this up myself…”
“But that’s what I’m here for.”
I suspected he’d been here all weekend and wasn’t just staying over tonight to give Heath a break.
He pulled the water bottle out of my hands, which I released with only a little resistance. “You want ice?”
I nodded and he guided me to sit on the couch in the living room where he’d been sitting. I could feel the warmth that his body had left and instead of being annoyed because I was already burning up, I sank into that warmth. There was an ache at the back of my throat, a prickling behind my eyes. I sucked in a shivery sigh. Emotions clashed inside me, chaotic, striking sparks off one another like atoms locked in a chemical reaction.
He returned with the ice-cold bottle and handed it to me. I pulled my knees up under me on the couch and he sat beside me, watching me closely. “You feeling okay?”
“Oh, peachy,” I rasped between desperate gulps. “I can see why the chemo defeats cancer… it’s so miserable and shitty that even
I
don’t want to be inside my own body anymore. I’m sure that’s why cancer decides to take a hike.”
He smiled half-heartedly, as if laughing at my joke would be too much—maybe even disrespectful. I rubbed at my hands. They felt swollen and yet they weren’t.
“Your hand hurts?” he asked.
“Everything hurts. I think I even have a migraine headache.”
His eyebrows twitched together. “I’m sorry. I at least know how much those suck.”
I shook my head. “Seriously, I can’t believe you deal with this shit all the time,” I said, pressing my hand to the throbbing ache in my forehead.
“You learn to live with it,” he said, watching me closely. “You’ve been sleeping a lot. Like, for days straight.”
I continued to rub my brow, the only part of my face I could still stand to touch. “Yeah, what day is it, anyway?”
“Sunday night.”
Two days. I’d lost two days. I blew out a breath. “Fuck.”
“You need to eat something.”
I shuddered and shook my head.
“Please. I can get you anything. Even if it’s a dry piece of bread.”
I cocked a brow at him.
“Or…not, I guess.”
My eyelids felt heavy over my eyes and my head was still pounding but I didn’t want to go back into the dark and be all alone again. I’m sure that after two days in bed I reeked. It was a good thing I couldn’t smell myself.
“What were you doing out here?”
He shrugged. “Just playing around on my tablet.”
“You’re not bored out of your skull sitting here all weekend?”
He fixed me with his dark gaze. “Nope. Why? Trying to get rid of me?”
“I think it would probably take several sticks of dynamite and a couple anvils to get rid of you.”
He smiled. “So I’m like that coyote in the cartoons?”
“Yeah, only Road Runner can’t run very fast these days.” My head sank to his shoulder.
“She looks pretty exhausted, I have to admit. Guess I won’t need my Acme motorized skateboard to chase after her…” He shifted, pulling me against him. I closed my eyes.
It felt good, even through the plethora of suckitude going on inside my body. I swallowed. “Maybe she stopped running because she doesn’t want to be chased anymore.”
“So when is she going to move in with the coyote so he can take care of her?”
I frowned through my brain haze. In truth I was a little surprised that he hadn’t brought the subject up again before this. “Meep. Meep,” I breathed with a light laugh, hoping he’d let me evade the subject with a little grace.
He didn’t reply, running a light hand over my back. “What do you need? Do you want to sit and watch a movie or…?”
My eyelids grew heavier by the second. “This feels good…right here…” My words were stumbling over each other, my tongue suddenly feeling thick.
His head shifted and he kissed my hair. “Okay. We can just sit like this, then.”
I fell asleep to the sound of his voice coming from inside his thick chest, relishing the feel of it vibrating against my cheek.
Chapter Ten
Adam
I leaned back against the couch and listened to her sleep. I knew I should have carried her to her room then. She’d hardly get the rest she needed leaning up against me. But I kept telling myself, “Just five more minutes.” I turned my head and smelled her hair. It smelled like
her
—straight and undiluted, not masked by hair products. I closed my eyes, that tight feeling pulling in my chest again. The sense of smell was a gatekeeper to vivid memories. I savored the ones that arose from this small sniff—the first time I’d kissed her in the hallway of her tiny studio apartment, the first time I’d really touched her in Amsterdam in that gorgeous, glittering black dress. The feel of her healthy, glowing skin under my hands.
I pulled my head away, turning to stare at the wall, unwilling to torture myself any further. The happy times—those brief flashes in our near past—only made the stark present hurt more.
I glanced down at her pale face, wishing I could be the one to take care of her. That I could do more than the measly amount of babysitting I was doing tonight. I held her in my arms for almost another hour before Heath and Connor came in through the front door and crept into the room quietly.
“Did she eat anything?” Heath whispered.
I shook my head but pointed to the water bottle. Connor took it up and went into the kitchen to refill it.
I slowly extricated myself from Emilia, lifting her from my chest and then bending, I picked her up to carry her to her bedroom. I tried not to think about how much lighter she was in my arms than she used to be, how much frailer she felt. I gently laid her on the bed and when I straightened to go she reached up and clamped her hand tightly around my wrist.
“Adam,” she said. I paused and then sat beside her on the bed, smoothing her cheek. “I need you.”
Something about that simple admission struck me like a blow in the center of my chest. I took a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”
With that, she seemed satisfied and soon her breathing was steady and rhythmic again. I bent to kiss her.
I felt powerless, helpless. And these were two feelings that I wasn’t accustomed to. Feelings that angered me. Feelings that I usually avoided at all costs. I knew how to keep my distance emotionally. And with hardening resolve, I decided to do so.
I left her when Heath came in to take my place at her bedside with the refilled bottle of water. Then I drove home, my work for the evening only beginning.
Chapter Eleven
Mia
“You need to do it, Mia.”
I sighed, watching my mom as she finished off folding my laundry. I was crammed in the corner of my small room at Heath’s condo, sitting in a chair with my novel on my lap while Mom finished pairing all my socks.
“I don’t
need
to…I could just—”
“It’s not fair to Heath. And it’s not fair to Adam, either.”
My mom was trying to convince me to move back into Adam’s house. She needed to go back and see to the ranch. Her favorite mare was due to give birth any time now and her caretaker wasn’t equipped to handle that. And in any case, she’d been away for weeks longer than she’d originally planned due to my surprise cancer-bomb.
I fiddled with my book, flipping the pages between my thumb and forefinger. “Maybe.”
“What are you afraid of?”
Of history repeating itself? Of going back to the fighting? “We rushed into it last time. I think it will jinx us. I know that sounds silly and superstitious but…”
Mom’s mouth quirked to the side as she pondered that. She looked at me with hooded eyes. “How hard did you try, Mia?”
I frowned. “What is
that
supposed to mean?”
She picked up a stack of folded T-shirts and pulled open a drawer in my dresser. “Well, as far as I understand it, you moved out after one fight. It’s not like he kicked you out.”
I clenched my jaw. Mom didn’t know the half of what had gone on between Adam and me. The heat of indignation rose in the back of my throat. I felt judged. “He gave me an ultimatum. I don’t do those.”
She shook her head. “I’m not saying he didn’t make mistakes, too. You both did.”
My mouth quirked with irritation. “But somehow my mistake was bigger than his?”
Mom returned to sit on the bed, her hands on her knees. “No. But the last time I checked, Adam didn’t try to hide a serious illness from everyone close to him.”
The air left my chest. So here it was. I was wondering when Mom would confront me about this. Apparently she’d judged that I was now feeling well enough. “I know you are still mad at me and I know I deserve it but—”
“I’m not so much mad as…disappointed…hurt. I know you and your legendary stubbornness, kid. I’ve known it since you were a baby. But you have to stop it. You have to grow up sometime and realize that not everything can go your way all the time.”
A wave of bitterness washed over me. “Things haven’t been going my way much lately.”
My mom’s face sobered so suddenly I thought she was about to burst into tears. My chest tightened to see it. “I wish to God I could do something about that, Mia. I honestly do.”
I blinked, suddenly feeling prickles in my eyes as well. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt all of you.”
She bit her lip, watching me. “I know you are. I know you are trying to do the best you can.”
Apparently my best wasn’t good enough. Not really. I looked down, avoided her eyes, hoped she’d drop the subject of my moving in with Adam.
She didn’t say anything for a long time. Then, as if for lack of anything better to do, she turned and scooped up my socks and started stuffing them into my top drawer—where there was not much room for them. I rubbed my forehead.
“So, you won’t even consider it, then?” she finally asked.
“Why do you think it’s such a good idea?” I folded my arms over my chest. Best way to avoid a difficult question was to ask another question. But I also knew that she was no stranger to this tactic.
She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Because you
can’t
do this alone. I know you. I know you want to do everything by yourself. God knows what a frustrating experience it has been to be your mother and to have to deal with that stubbornness. You used to insist on tying your own shoes even when you didn’t know how. Then you’d trip until you skinned your knees bloody before you’d let anyone help you tie them. But it’s one thing when you are six. It’s quite another thing to face the medical treatments you have ahead of you with no help at all.”
“But I have Heath…” And even as I said it, I knew that she was right—it wasn’t fair. Mom caught it pretty quickly.
“You’ve already put a hefty burden on his shoulders, Mia. Sometimes I think he’s about to crack from it. You need to give him a break. And you need to give him a chance to be able to spend some time with his new boyfriend and not play nursemaid for you.”
I sighed. “You’ve made good points. I’ll, um, I’ll think about it, okay?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I can’t leave until I know you are going to be taken care of properly, since I won’t be able to do it myself. You can call me at Peter’s when you’ve made your decision.”
“But Mom, what if Rusty goes into labor—”
Mom gave a tight shrug and that’s when I knew that she meant business. “Horses have been giving birth in the wild for thousands of years.”
My jaw dropped. “Mom…”
Her brows rose. “You got that stubbornness from somewhere, kid. Don’t even try it.”
I put my head down and rubbed my forehead. Inexplicably, tears stung my eyes—tears that would never slip down my cheeks. I blinked fiercely… I wouldn’t allow it.
“What are you afraid of, Mia?”
I sucked down a breath of air and shook my head, shrugging. “Blowing it again? Because even if we didn’t ruin everything, it’s all hanging by a thread.”
“You’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time.”
“It’s all like a blur,” I murmured, blinking my eyes. My vision seemed a metaphor for my life. “It’s like one moment everything was going great. Wonderful. All these pieces were falling into place and then…”
“And then?”
“Is he just with me because I’m sick—because of everything that’s happened?”
My mom patted the bed beside her and I looked up. She nodded reassuringly and I stood up and went to sit next to her. She slipped an arm around my shoulders. “I’m going to tell you the truth. I don’t know. You don’t know. Heath doesn’t know. The only one who knows? You need to ask
him
those questions.”
I didn’t say anything for a while, watching the spotted carpet beneath our feet.
“How about you? Are you just with him because you’re sick? Because of everything?”
There were those feelings again, the jumbled ball of heaviness at the center of my chest. It was hard to breathe. I didn’t want to talk about this with her. I shook my head. I supposed if I sat down for a few hours and thought about nothing else, unraveled this ball like it was a tangled spool of yarn ends and examined each piece, I might be able to tell her what every nuance and twinge meant—love, hurt, longing, distance, loneliness, distrust, regret, guilt. They were all there and all bunched up in knots. And my heart was tender and vulnerable for it.
“I’m afraid if I go there, if we live together, that it will ultimately be what makes us fail.”
“Or, it could be what makes you stronger. Maybe you should believe in yourself more.”
I put my head in my hands. “Why do I have to deal with this now?”
“You don’t have to do anything but let the people who love you take care of you. Your job right now is to get better. Okay?”