Beats of Life (Perception Book 5) (27 page)

“Make sure you take pain relief tablets every four hours for the next two days,” Dr Webster instructs handing me a prescription for pain relief. “I should have your results back in a week, if it is any sooner I will call you,” he continues.

Slater and I both thank Dr Webster and shake his hand before walking to the town car waiting for us downstairs. Slater remains quiet the whole trip and doesn’t even flinch when the paparazzi asks him crude questions in an attempt to pry a reaction out of him. The ride in the elevator is one of the quietest trips we have ever made. We walk hand in hand to our hotel suite. The instant we walk inside, Slater releases my hand and walks over to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a double whiskey. He downs the entire double nip in one hit before pouring another. No longer being able to hold in my tears, they freely stream down my face.

“Please don’t do this,” I whisper painfully. He turns around to face me. His eyes are full to the brim with tears. “You know what it was like for Serena, please don’t treat me how everyone treated her.”

The past few months have been perfect. He has never once treated me like I was a fragile flower that might break. I loved that about him. But when I look into his eyes now, all I can see is pain and fear reflecting back at me. I promised him I wouldn’t run without saying goodbye, but I never promised that I would stand by and watch a disease destroy the man I love. I am no longer concerned about what this disease could do to me, I’m concerned about what it could do to Slater.

He places his glass down that rough it nearly smashes against the bar. He murmurs several curse words under his breath before he moves to me so quick he creates a ripple in the air. He engulfs me within his arms, lifting me from the ground in one fluid movement. His delicious mouth encloses over mine, his tongue sampling and tasting mine. I taste the intoxicating mix of his whiskey with the salt of my tears. By the time he finishes devouring my mouth, all of my tears have dried and my panties are soaked.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” he questions the instant he pulls away from our embrace. His kiss was that intoxicating I didn’t even notice a slight ping of the pain I was feeling earlier. When I shake my head, he kisses the corner of my mouth gently before sitting us down on the sofa. The instant I straddle his lap I feel his large erection straining against his zipper. He lifts his hand and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“I’m sorry baby,” he apologizes quietly, his pained eyes staring firmly into mine. “I’m just scared,” he continues. His voice is so quiet it is barely a whisper.

“I know. So am I,” I respond truthfully. I am not scared of being sick again. I am scared of hurting him.

“But I am still me. I am still that same Kylie that went sky diving with you last month,” I continue, triggering the corners of his mouth to slowly tug higher. “I am still the same Kylie you had sex with in your elevator.” He smiles largely while bucking his hips, causing a shallow moan to escape mine.

“I’m still the same Kylie that is planning on getting you into a pair of the smallest swim trunks you have ever seen in your life on a beach in Fiji,” I inform waggling my eyebrows.

When he chuckles a full boisterous laugh that vibrates right through my body, I know without a doubt that even if I am sick again I will do everything in my power to stay with him.

I will fight to my very last breath.

Slater

I had done exactly what I said I wouldn’t do when I suspected Kylie was sick again. I treated her different. I treated her like someone that was fragile and might break at any moment. I remember how much Serena hated being treated differently and yet I still did it to Kylie. I panicked and I fucked up.

But in my defence, I am scared out of my fucking mind that I may lose her. The fear is real. It has kept me awake the last few nights as I can’t stop thinking about it. I would like to say my fear has lessened the past few days, but it hasn’t. I’ve just learnt how to hide my fear from Kylie. I mask my feelings and act like everything is okay even though I feel like I am dying on the inside. I have called Dr Webster every day the past three days requesting the results. Every day he assures me that they should be arriving soon. I really hope they arrive soon as I am not sure how much longer I can keep up with this charade.

I don’t think Kylie has noticed, but every time I make love to her, my eyes aren’t just roaming over her body in appreciation, they are actively seeking additional bruises. Serena’s first symptom was a large bruise she got on her forearm from me. We were playing catch in the yard and she missed one of my curve balls and it hit her harshly in her arm. The bruise was huge and lasted for days. Mom eventually took her to the doctors the following week when it didn’t go down and that started the process of her diagnosis. Serena was taken from our family so quick as it had already formed in her liver and spleen by the time she was diagnosed. She did chemotherapy and radiation even though she knew it was only delaying the inevitable, but it gave her a few more weeks to say her goodbyes.

“Fifteen minutes until show time,” Kylie advises, popping her head into the dressing room I share with Marcus.

I try to mask the look on my face the instant I spot her, but I am too late, she has already seen it. She hesitantly walks into the room, passing Marcus as he exits. She straddles herself on my lap and undoes the top three buttons on her dress, triggering me to shake my head gently. She has been using sex against me the past few days. She knows my dick can’t refuse her so she is using it to her full advantage.

“If we had longer than fifteen minutes I would have been crossing off one hundred and ninety-nine of our list. But since I have only fifteen minutes, repayment number one hundred and eight three will have to do,” she whispers seductively, removing herself off my lap and kneeling in front of me.

“Are you sure you are going to be able to fully cross that off in fifteen minutes?” I question cheekily. She giggles softly, before her eyes turn up to mine. Fuck, she is gorgeous. She doesn’t even seem the faintest bit scared of having ALL again. She amazes me every day with how unbelievably strong she is.

“I think I’ll have you done with a few minutes to spare,” she replies confidently. From the look in her eyes, I am fairly certain she will indeed meet her target.

****

Kylie hit her target and I was on stage at the scheduled time feeling more relaxed and calm than I was the night before. The road crew have been leaving the lights on at the side of the stage at my request. That way I can easily keep my eye on Kylie during our performance. It is lucky I have performed these songs hundreds of times before so my eyes can easily dart over to check on her without ever losing the tempo of the song. I am around three quarters through our show when I notice one of the stage assistants approaching Kylie. She hands her a large white envelope. My heart rate increases and my breathing comes out in shallow pants even though I am physically exhausted from playing the drums for the past hour and a half.  Time feels like it is going in slow motion as I watch Kylie read the document in front of her. Suddenly, she roughly yanks her phone out of her pocket, her fingers fumble over the screen before she raises it to her ear. Her hand shoots up to cover her mouth and even though she is a far distance away from me, I swear I can see tears in her eyes.

My heart drops into my stomach when her face morphs into devastation and she flees away from the stage. I freeze with my drumsticks midair, unable to move out of fear. Nick moves next to me, still strumming his guitar. He says something, but my mind doesn’t register any of the words coming out of his mouth. All I can see is the devastated look on Kylie’s face before she darted away.

“Go Slater.” I eventually register coming out of Nick’s mouth.

I stand from my drum kit that quick, I send the symbols toppling over. You know that feeling you get when you are really drunk and everything around you is a complete fucking blur? That is how I feel right now. I stumble and trip over my own feet even though I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol in days. I somehow manage to get myself to the side of the stage even though I am disorientated and confused.

“She is in your dressing room,” Jenni informs softly. The tears streaming down her face causes my eyes to instantly water.

It takes a few minutes for my brain to register that Kylie isn’t in my dressing room, even though my eyes could clearly see it was empty the fifth time it roamed over it. Just as I am about to exit, I hear a loud sob come out of the bathroom. It is a sob from someone that sounds truly heart broken. It rips straight through my heart. I rush to her, wanting to comfort her. I find her huddled on the ground in the corner of the shower. She is cradling her legs in her arms and her cheek is resting against her knees. A white sheet of paper is gripped tightly in her hand. She is rocking back and forth and her sobs are racking through her body so hard she is shuddering. I swiftly move into the shower and sit down on the wet tiled floor. I pull her into my arms and comfort her the best I can, while trying to keep my own tears at bay.

My heart feels like it is torn in two. I can’t fucking lose her. Oh god, please don’t let me lose her. Why didn’t I make her go to the doctors the instant I saw the bruise? Why didn’t I force her to have regular blood tests every month? If only I had been more diligent we could have avoided all of this heart break.

It takes several long heart breaking minutes of loud and devastated sobs before Kylie eventually lifts her head off my chest. Her heart break is marked all over her beautiful face. My eyes dart between hers, silently begging for her to tell me that everything is okay. I don’t want to hear any other words come out of her mouth other than she is okay. She tries to form words, but every time she moves her lips only a painful whimper escapes. She eventually hands me the piece of paper she is gripping tightly in her hand. I have to pry it out of her tight grip. I rub the back of my hand over my tear filled eyes before slowly reading the hand-written letter in front of me.

Dear Kylie,

I could never understand why you decided to leave the man you loved when you found out you were sick. Why you would sacrifice your own happiness for another? Why put his happiness solely above your own? But now I understand. I fully understand why you did everything you did.  You did it because you loved him, even more than you loved yourself.

Please remember that as you read the next part of my letter. Everything I did, I did for you, because I love you even more than I love myself.

I never went into remission. I was informed at my last appointment that my condition had gone terminal. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to see the devastation in your eyes when you found out, so I chose to lie instead. The look of happiness in your eyes when you thought I was in remission was worth betraying you, even though I knew in time it would eventually break your heart. I initially went through the stages of grief. The very first step was denial, then I was angry, then I was sad, then I finally come to terms with what was going to happen. I was going to die. But I knew I couldn’t leave you without making sure you got the life you deserved.

You thought I didn’t know about Slater until after you got back together, but you were very wrong. You have always been a loved up drunk and you may have mentioned him a few times the past two years. I knew it would only take him seeing your beautiful face one more time for him to fall head over heels in love with you again. Well that was my plan. I just didn’t realize that he was just as stubborn as you are. But with a little pushing, you both got there in the end and I am so incredibly happy for you. The joy on your face last week made me realize I had made the right choice in keeping this secret from you.

A few times I wanted to tell you what was happening. I really wanted my best friend by my side, but just like Slater I knew you would have given it all away in an instant to be by my side, and I loved you too much to force you to do that. So just like you, I sacrificed my own happiness for the person I love. You are one of the most beautiful souls I have ever met in my life and it was my absolute pleasure to call you my best friend. I love you, I believe in you and I know you will one day find it in your heart to forgive me for my betrayal.  

I lived the fullest life I could live. I made sure my whole eighty years was jammed packed into twenty-four, and out of those twenty-four years my best years were the ones I spent with you. Please don’t cry for me. Please don’t grieve. Live! Live the best life you can live and live it for both of us.

But more than anything, I want you to remember that everything I did, I did for you. I’ll be waiting for you in heaven in another eighty plus years. Just look for the sexy angel with two margaritas in her hands.

I love you and I will miss you every single day.

Your very best friend in the world.

Melanie xx  

I know this is going to make me sound like the biggest fucking asshole in the world, but I sighed in relief while reading Melanie’s letter. I am devastated for Kylie, I truly am. But I had thought I was coming in her to console her over her own diagnosis. I thought I was losing her. So my first thought was relief, which is rapidly changing to guilt. Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same thing. If you were in my situation you would have reacted the exact same way.

“She died last night,” Kylie whimpers into my chest, her voice coming out in the most painful whisper.

“I am so sorry baby. I am so truly sorry,” I whisper into her ear.

Fuck, now I feel even worse for my initial reaction.