Finding Forever (Living Again #4) (19 page)

A sound woke him up, and he turned, feeling out of sorts. What time was it, and where was he? Then he felt her, next to him. She was shaking like a leaf.

“No,” she whimpered. “Please no cancer.” He turned, seeing that she was still asleep. She must be in the middle of a dream. “No treatment,” she continued. “Just let me die. No one needs me.”

Fear clenched his stomach.
What?
She was gripping the sheets, turning her head side to side. “Lacey,” he said, shaking her shoulder gently. She calmed, but didn’t wake up, rolling over so her face was into his chest. He held her, wondering what in the hell that had been about and if it had anything to do with what had been bothering her for weeks.

After what seemed like minutes but was hours, he felt her stir. The sun was beaming through her windows, and he wondered absently if she was late for work. He blinked open his eyes to see a sexy pair of eyes looking directly at him. Damn, he could get used to waking up to that. Her hair was tousled from sleep, and he wondered just how many times he was going to think that she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever known.

“Morning,” she said, resting her chin on his bare chest. “Thanks for staying last night. I think I slept better than I have in weeks.”

“Really?” He stroked her hair, then down her back. “You were having some sort of nightmare or dream in the middle of the night.”

A look that he could only describe as panic washed over her face, followed by the mask that she wore when she was scared. “What? Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I’m worried about. Lacey, are you sure that something isn’t bothering you?”

“What did I say?” She sat up, turning her face away from him. “You know that dreams are crazy sometimes. I’ve always been a vivid dreamer.”

“You said no, then said, ‘Please no cancer’, and ‘Just let me die. No one needs me.’ You were shaking like a leaf.”

Lacey shrugged and got out of bed. “I don’t remember it. I’ve been under a lot of stress at work, so you never can tell what I’m going to dream about. Sometimes everything that happened with my mom comes out in dreams. Don’t worry about it. Sorry I woke you.” She went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, leaving him to wonder if she was being honest with him.

It had been two days since he had stayed the night at Lacey’s house and heard her having that dream, and it wasn’t just that the dream was bothering him. It was Lacey. He hadn’t seen her and barely talked to her since then. Once they had gotten ready and she had left for work that morning, she had essentially disappeared from his life.

He thought about finding Sam and talking to her, but he wasn’t sure if that was the right call or not. It wasn’t that Lacey was ignoring him; she was still talking to him and texting with him, but he just felt that something wasn’t right. She kept making excuses about not being able to see him after work, or having to work too late and she was tired. He was trying hard not to look too much into her behavior, but it sure seemed like she was shutting him out.

Brant was headed to the gym when a call came through his speakers. Hitting the button to accept, he realized too late it was his mother. He knew he was being a bad son and not going over to visit his father, but he also knew that the worst was over and he was just recuperating now. He figured that leaving well enough alone was best for both of them.

“Mom,” Brant answered, putting on his cheerful voice. “How are you doing?”

“Brantley,” she said back. “You would think we didn’t live in the same town or something. Where’ve you been?”

He sighed. He wanted to tell her exactly why he hadn’t been around; but it didn’t matter. There had never been a time in his life that she had stood up for him against his father, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I was on a trip for work, then I’ve been around. Sorry I haven’t been out. Is Dad doing okay?”

“Brant, I know what your dad said to you. Brooke told me.” He had stupidly confided in Brooke a few days after the hospital incident, thinking she could keep her mouth shut better than Heather. Apparently not.

“Mom,” he started. “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I can do about his opinion. I’m used to it.”

She was quiet for so long that he thought maybe she had hung up. “Mom?”

“I don’t agree with him, Brant,” she said quietly, like she was hiding her voice so no one could hear. “I’m proud of you, and I love you.”

He already knew this about her. The problem was, she wouldn’t stand up for him to the one person that
needed
to hear that. “I know, Mom,” he said, pacifying her.

“He loves you, too,” she said, always defending his dad. “Even when he has a crappy way of showing it. Do you think you could come out to the house soon? We’d love to see you.”

“Sure,” he agreed, and she knew as well as he did that he wasn’t planning to come. “I’m going to the gym. I’ll talk to you later.”

He needed to run, lift, and punch until he couldn’t think of anything anymore. Not a judgmental father, not a spineless mother, and not a doctor he was falling in love with but that was seemingly keeping secrets from him.

Lacey listened to the message for probably the twentieth time, trying to decipher it from the tone of voice the receptionist used. Did she know? Did the lilt in her voice mean it was good news, or did that mean she was trying to protect the truth from coming through her voice?

She had to go in today. She knew this. When the call had come through an hour ago, she couldn’t make herself answer it, choosing instead to torture herself with listening to the message over and over again.

‘Lacey Russell, this is the Radiology Center calling. We have the results of your biopsy, and the doctor would like you to come in immediately. Please call us back as soon as possible so we know when to expect you. Thank you.’

She had been avoiding Brant since the night that she asked him to stay the night and then ended up blabbing in her sleep about cancer. She had been so stupid to let her guard down and ask him to stay with her, but that night she had slept better than she had in weeks, if not years.

Trying to stay away from him was proving way harder than she originally thought, though. As usual, he sensed her pulling back and that only made him push harder to see her, talk to her. The other thing was, Sam was finishing up her studio time which meant she was also going to expect to see her. At least after today, she’d have an idea what was actually happening and where she needed to go from here.

She had run every scenario through her head. Her getting there and the doctor telling her that her biopsy was negative, she was free to go, and they would keep an eye on her every year was the best case scenario. The other one, the one that plagued her dreams, was the one she had mentally prepared herself for the most. Them telling her the word she had been terrified to hear ever since she heard it the first time at the age of ten.

Lacey had no idea what she would do if that what they said, but she had been practicing it in her head. In one vision, she would listen, taking in all of the information and walk out, her head held high, determined to beat cancer. In another, she would crumple to the floor, wishing to just die right then rather than go through what she had to do to continue to live.

She stared into the mirror, looking at her long hair and bright blue eyes. She remembered what her mom looked like after starting treatment. She pulled back her hair, imagining being bald. One thing was for damn sure. If she had to go through all of that, she sure as hell wasn’t dragging Brant through it with her. Cancer might ravage her, but it didn’t have to take him with it.

“Right in here,” the woman said, leading Lacey into an office that definitely didn’t look like it belonged in this clinical building. A soft couch filled up one wall, and the walls were painted a light blue. Soft music played from a hidden speaker somewhere, and the lighting was soft, muted. There was a desk and chairs on the other wall, and pictures of a beach somewhere covered the walls.

This looks so out of place
, Lacey thought.
I wonder if this is where they bring you to tell you the bad news, to try to soften the blow
. She almost laughed. As if sitting in a nice office and looking at a picture of the beach made it easier to hear that your life would never be the same again.

“The doctor will be right in,” she said, smiling thinly at Lacey. There were no examination gowns or machines this time. This was it. She would either walk out of here a free woman, or one chained to the big ‘C’.

Lacey stood, staring at the picture on the wall above the couch, when she heard the door open behind her. Taking in a sharp breath, she turned around to see not one, but two women entering the room. She immediately started shaking, and she held her hands together in front of her to try to stop it. All that succeeded in doing was making her whole body start chattering, so she sat down on the couch.

“Lacey Russell, I’m Dr. Stevens and this is Dr. Christianson.” She watched as they both sat in the chairs across from the couch, facing her. Her entire life rested in the words these two women were about to say. She wished for Brant’s soothing, strong hand holding hers, but knew that wasn’t possible.

“We have your results,” Dr. Christianson said, her face impassive. Trying to read their expressions and body language was killing her, and she just wanted to scream
‘TELL ME’
.

Dr. Stevens reached over and took Lacey’s hands in hers. Her heart rate accelerated as she looked at the doctor. “We’re sorry, Lacey. You have cancer in your left breast. We’ve also talked to Dr. Blaise, and she extends her apologies as well. We have a list of surgeons that are recommended to contact next. You’ll need to do that immediately. Dr. Blaise recommends the one circled in red. Dr. Christianson is a counselor if you feel that you need to talk.”

Lacey blinked, the words bouncing around her brain like ping pong balls. The world spun on its axis, and she closed her eyes against the onslaught of panic that was flowing through her veins. She said it. This wasn’t a nightmare anymore; it was reality. She had cancer.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Dr. Christianson said softly, leaning forward. Lacey shook her head, unable to make anything come out of her mouth. Who in the hell would she call? Why would she want to ruin anyone else’s day?

“Good luck, Lacey,” she continued. “The treatment plans are the best they’ve ever been.” Lacey stared at her like she had just grown three heads. She had cancer. Breast cancer. She was going to die. Dr. Christianson was talking, but all she could see was her mouth moving. Her throat started closing up, and she started gasping for air. Her lungs were burning, and her heart was racing.

She stood up, wanting to get the hell out of there as fast as she possibly could. The room swayed, and her eyes were blurry. She felt their arms on her, but she flung them off, running for the door with the paper in her hand of the person going to cut the cancer from her body.

When she reached the car, she collapsed on the ground next to her door, her body convulsing. She cried so hard that no sound came from her mouth; a gasping sob that physically hurt. Why in the hell was life so cruel? Wasn’t it enough that she had lost her mother to this awful disease? Wasn’t that enough punishment to go through in one lifetime? Now that she had someone she loved in her life, of course it would happen now.