Just One Week (Just One Song) (24 page)

“He’s been really upset.”

I turn to the sound of Nic’s soft voice. Her eyebrows are raised slightly and she appears hopeful. I bite the inside of my lip. “He’s probably really mad at me.” My mind flashes with all the lies I’ve told him and now he finally knows everything.

“He wants to see you.”

I want to see him, too. “I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. I pull my eyes from the doorway as if not looking at it can make him disappear. “I can’t be the woman he needs, Nic.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

I push my hair nervously behind my hair and wrap it up into a high messy ponytail, then let it fall down all over again.

“Even with the surgery it could still come back and then I have no options. I can’t do that to him. I can’t – won’t – have kids. Ever. I can’t promise him a life with me.”

“No one is ever promised anything,” she says softly, while running her fingers through my hair. “This isn’t what you ever wanted for yourself, but you can beat this and you can fight it again if it comes back. But being a martyr? This isn’t who you are, Mia.”

“I’m not being a martyr. It’s just … we’ve talked about this before. Someone always leaves and nothing lasts. I won’t do that to him … knowing the outcome.”

“But you don’t know the outcome, you’re only envisioning the worst case scenario. I said it in L.A., but I’ll say it again.” She puts her hand on my cheek and pulls me toward her face so I can’t look anywhere besides her bright blue eyes. “He isn’t your dad. And you’re not your mom. He wants to be here for you. Why won’t you let him?”

Because I’m losing a part of me. It’s more than my chest they’re taking. A small part of me, even with my fear, always had hope that I could be the one to escape this. I could be the woman who makes this cancer skip a generation. But I was wrong and now I have no hope. It vanished with my scan and diagnosis.

“I don’t know,” I finally admit as fresh tears well in my eyes and spill over. Nicole says nothing. Instead, she climbs into my bed and pulls me to her. She holds me in her arms as we cry again, fearful of tomorrow. It’s how we spent many nights after Mark and Andrew died but now she’s the one holding me, comforting me.

The only downfall is, as good as it feels to finally be honest with her, her arms aren’t the one I want holding me. I’m just too much of a chicken shit to ask for him.

“By the way,” she says, her arms squeezing me tighter. “I’m really pissed you didn’t tell me about your job, too.”

I laugh through my tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you worrying about me during your week.”

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot. But I’ll yell at you for that one later. Chase told me about how he talked to Natasha. It’d be awesome to have you so close to me again.”

It’d be awesome for me, too. I called her back and gave her the same explanation of why I left L.A. as I did Chase. She seemed friendly on the phone and told me to call her back when I could and if she still had the opening, she’d love to talk to me.

I haven’t thought about it since.

We’re silent for a while and Nic’s arms loosen around me a little bit. I almost wonder if she’s fallen asleep when she quietly asks, “How big are your new fake boobs going to be?”

It’s the tackiest, most inappropriate question she can ask me. And absolutely perfect.

“Barbie sized,” I answer and we both laugh. It feels so good to laugh and make this one big joke. We’ve talked about this before. After my previous appointments when we’ve gotten together for drinks and celebrated a year of no cancer, we’ve joked about if the worst were to happen, how big my replacements would be. As our laughter dies down, I whisper sadly, “I like the ones I have.”

She holds me tightly. “I know.”

“Nicole?” She kisses my forehead and unwraps her arms from my body.

“I’ll go get him.” She climbs from the bed and looks back at me when she reaches the door. “We’ll be here in the morning for you.”

“Thanks,” I whisper as I hear her soft feet padding down the hallway and stairs. They’re soon replaced with heavier footsteps, moving quickly. I smile to myself, knowing he’s running up the stairs, probably skipping a step or two in his hurry to get to me.

A shadow falls in the doorway. I can’t make out a single feature on his face, but he only pauses for a second before removing his shirt and swiftly climbing into the bed and taking Nicole’s place.

His arms feel perfect. They’re exactly what I want, and what I can’t have forever.

“I’m really mad at you.” Chase whispers it against my cheek, his lips just brushing my skin and I smile slightly.

“I know.”

“And I’m really worried and scared for you.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry I was suck a dick at the airport.”

“Chase, I’m sorry …” I’m not given the chance to apologize though because his lips are on mine, pressing them closed by his forcefully. He doesn’t take it further and he doesn’t soften the kiss. He simply shuts me up and I let him. He stays just like that, neither of us moving, until he pulls away and I inhale a deep breathe.

“Shut up, Mia. I was a dick because I lied. I love you, and I’ll chase you forever if I have to. I don’t want to argue tonight. I just want to hold you.”

I want to apologize for leaving him. For not being strong enough to tell him what’s been going on this whole time. I want to apologize for asking him to lie to Nicole and keep my secrets, even when they never should have been kept in the first place. I’ve always needed my best friend to get me through this. Her smart-ass comment about my fake boobs reminds me of exactly the same thing Chase said she’d do if I had just told her about my job. She would have gotten me drunk and had me laughing in minutes.

I was stupid for not being honest before.

I want to tell him all of this. I want to tell him how much I love him. How I’ve thought about him every day since I left, but I can’t. There’s still something holding me back and I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.

I don’t want to argue with him either though, so I move closer to his chest and let his arms tighten around me.

“Okay,” I say quietly, acquiescing to him for maybe the first time ever.

We’re silent for a few minutes before Chase takes a deep breath. “When I went into foster care, I was a pretty pissed off kid. I was pissed at everyone, blaming anyone who crossed my paths that they were somehow the reason for my parents’ deaths. Looking back, my foster parents were incredible. When I got in fights at school, they enrolled me in boxing classes. When my grades slipped, she would sit with a book at the kitchen table with me, reading until I got my schoolwork done. But they never yelled at me. They never showed me a minute of disappointment or anger at who I was or who they had been stuck raising.”

I think I’ve stopped breathing while Chase talks. We talked about his foster parents when we were on the beach but this is deeper, more meaningful.

“She cried when I was twelve and broke my arm. When my cast came off, they bought me a drum set.” He takes a deep breath and if I’m not mistaken, his own voice is shaking a little bit. “I’m not sure I ever thanked them for that. And it took me a long time to realize that even though I was given a shit hand, people were put in my life to never give up on me and to help me through all the shit to get to the other side.”

My own chin trembles and I wipe my tears that are falling silently down my cheeks.

“My dad was perfect until my mom got sick. Then he started drinking scotch and it’s like he disappeared. I haven’t really seen my dad since I was thirteen.”

Chase leans in and brushes a soft kiss across my temple, smoothing down my hair at the same time. “I fucking hate scotch.”

A garbled laugh escapes my throat through my tears, but I know what he’s saying. He’s telling me what Nicole did. He isn’t my dad. I won’t break him.

We say nothing else. Eventually, I feel his heart rate slow down and his breathing go a little bit more shallow and I know Chase has fallen asleep.

I don’t sleep at all for the entire night, too nervous about my surgery and the choices ahead of me. But mostly it’s because I still don’t understand the question that won’t stop flicking through my mind on a constant stream of repeat.

Why don’t I believe him?

My head feels groggy. I feel like there are weights pressing onto my eyes, pressing them closed even though I’m fighting to open them.

I can hear a mess of sounds surrounding me. Whispered voices, beeping machines, but it’s so much work to open my eyes to see them.

My fingers twitch and I feel them press against something warm. I know its Chase’s hand without having to open my eyes. I can smell his cologne over the medicinal hospital smells that tastes like iron deep in my throat.

The room gets quiet as I’m finally, slowly, able to blink my eyes open just once and then twice before the weight becomes too painful and I’m forced to close them again.

“She’s waking up.”

I hear the deep rumble of Chase’s voice close to my ear and his hand presses against my cheek. I turn toward his hand and hear the whispered voices say something, but I can’t make out the words.

I hurt. There’s pain all over my chest that ripples around to my sides with every breath I take, but I want to see him. I need to see him, even if I know he can’t stay.

“Mia, babe. Wake up and let me see your eyes.”

I groan. It hurts so bad to breathe. I know the surgery was only supposed to take a few hours, but I feel like I’ve been out for days. I wait a few more minutes and am able to open my eyes just enough to see through them. The bright lights give me a blinding sensation, but I can just barely make him out while I squint.

“Hey,” I say quietly. My throat is dry and my voice is barely audible. But I make myself smile because Chase is here, with me. His eyebrows pull together in concern and before I can blink, something is resting against my lips.

“Take a few sips.” I do as I’m instructed and try to take a deep breath. The water feels fantastic on my throat, but I moan in pain. “How do you feel?”

“I hurt.”

Chase nods and turns his head away from me for a second before looking back into my eyes. “The doctor said you’re going to hurt for a while. He should be here in a few minutes to check on you.”

I nod and catch a glimpse of Nicole on my other side.

“How are you?” she asks softly and brushes my hair back from my face. Her eyes are red and I know she’s been crying. Nicole hates hospitals and I don’t blame her. I hate the fact that I’ve made her spend more time in them.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” She grimaces and I shake my head. God, I suck. “Sorry. These drugs are making me stupid.”

She shakes it off and kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to see you awake again.”

“How did everything go?” I ask, hesitant to know the answer.

“Dr. Gilbrath told Eli that everything went as well as can be expected. You’ll need more scans and tests to make sure they got everything. And she said you’ll have to take at least six weeks to recover. But you should be okay.”

Okay. The simple two syllable word sparks tears in my eyes and I look back and forth between Chase and Nicole, seeing relief and nervousness on their faces.

I nod. It’s all I can do because I can’t find the words to say. The small movement makes me cringe in pain.

“Your mom and Eli are waiting to see you.”

“Can you go get them?”

She leaves the room and I turn to Chase. “You guys probably need to hit the road, huh?”

He presses his lips together. “Not for a few days. Zack’s been on the phone all morning with Aaron rescheduling a few stops.”

For me. He’s doing this for me.

“I don’t want you to.” He closes his eyes, clenching them shut and takes a deep breath. I’m making him angry. Disappointing him, again. And yet, I can’t let them do this for me. As much as I want him here, I’m not sure if this changes anything. I still can’t be the woman he wants. I can’t give him a family. And there’s no guarantee yet that I’ll really be okay.

But he doesn’t fight with me. He just presses a light kiss against my cheek. I can feel his lips turn into a small smile. “You’re tired. I’m going to let you get some rest and we’ll talk about it later.”

I start to open my mouth to argue back, but Dr. Gilbrath and my mom show up in the doorway. They hesitate for just a minute before entering, giving Chase and I the appearance of privacy.

“More rest won’t make me change my mind, Chase,” I say quietly as my mom moves to the other side of my bed.

He squeezes my hand before slowly standing. “We’ll see. I’ll be back when you wake up.”

He leaves the room and I’m pretty sure my mom and the doctor sigh while they watch his backside leave the room. Even in my drugged up state I don’t miss the effect Chase has on women, and apparently my own mom isn’t immune to him.

“He’s hot,” she says with a wicked smile. “You did well, Mia. And he obviously cares about you.”

I smile and groan in pain while I try not to laugh at my mom. I ignore her leading statement. Now is definitely not the time to bring up my non-relationship status with Chase.

Dr. Gilbrath hangs my chart up at the end of my bed and gives me a soft smile.