Unraveled

Prologue

Layla

One word. Six little letters. Yet, it packed a punch like I’d never experienced.

Cancer.

I sat in the beige visitor’s chair at UCLA Medical Center and tried to absorb what the man sitting behind the big oak desk was telling me.

How was it possible I had breast cancer? I was twenty-nine years old. I ate healthy, exercised, didn’t smoke, didn’t do drugs, and had no family history of it.

Although I’d found a lump ten days ago, scaring me enough to make the mammogram appointment and get the biopsy they recommended, I’d read that four out of five biopsies were benign.

I’d soothed my worries by convincing myself I had none of the risk factors.

So how the hell could I be the one in five?

My fingers fidgeted with my long black hair while I glanced around the office at the many degrees framed on the walls. I supposed it was my mind’s way of coping with bad news. To simply give in to distraction.

“Layla, are you sure there isn’t someone who can be here with you today?” Dr. Benson inquired.

My gaze landed on him, a man with kind eyes in a weathered face.

I’d asked my boyfriend to accompany me, but he’d had an audition for a new television series.

Such was the life of a struggling actor here in Los Angeles.

To be fair, I hadn’t expected this type of news, so I’d understood Chad missing my appointment.

“No. Um, I’m sorry. I guess I’m in shock. Can you repeat what you said about the diagnosis?”

“It’s okay. Most people in your situation are the same. The pathology shows us that the type of cancer you have is triple negative. Your tumor is grade three. We will have to biopsy your lymph nodes to find out if they are positive for cancer. Triple negative means it’s more aggressive…”

He went on with more details I had a hard time grasping. Something about not having the brCA gene, and this type of cancer being resistant to typical hormone treatments.

“What is the treatment?”

“We won’t know until after we can stage it. We need to perform a biopsy on the lymph nodes to see if it has spread there. We can do the fine needle aspiration like we did with your tumor, to get a sample for pathology.”

“When should we do that?”

“Tomorrow or Thursday if possible.”

I wasn’t sure what Chad had planned, but hopefully he could come with me. At least it was a same-day procedure and I didn’t have to be knocked out for it.

“After we have those results, we will form a treatment plan, but you’ll want someone to be here with you when we go through it. There are some decisions to be made.”

“Will I lose my breasts?” The thought of losing my very best asset suddenly had me in a panic. I took shallow breaths, trying to keep from hyperventilating.

His hesitation spoke volumes. He’d probably delivered this type of news a hundred times and witnessed varying degrees of people freaking out. No wonder he wanted to have someone else here to help calm me down.

“We don’t know yet. I’ll have the front desk schedule you for the biopsy.

In the meanwhile, I have some literature for you to take home and read through about triple negative breast cancer.

Talk to your family or friends, then come back here with someone who can help be your advocate.

Someone who will help ask questions, express your concerns, and most of all, be here for you. ”

Made sense. I wished Chad was here with me right now to help ask questions.

Or even better, my brother, Russell. He was the calmest person I knew.

But he was up in the state of Washington where I’d grown up, and Chad was at his audition.

And I was due to return to work after this appointment.

How could I even do that? How would this affect my demanding work schedule?

I nodded, swallowing down the tears. “Thank you.” It seemed a strange comment, but my manners dictated I say something.

“We’ll see each other again soon.”

That was my cue to get up, yet my legs didn’t want to cooperate. Luckily, muscle memory kicked in, and I finally moved.

At the front desk, a woman with the name tag of Mary greeted me with sympathetic eyes. “All right, hon. How is your schedule for tomorrow?”

Packed. Impossible. My boss was already ticked I’d taken this morning off after the two appointments I’d had last week.

“Or how about Thursday, if it’s better?” she offered.

What did it say about my priorities that I was thinking about what I had planned at work or my boss’s reaction instead of a much-needed biopsy to find out if the cancer had spread? “Tomorrow is fine.” I had to make it a priority.

“Three o’clock in the afternoon okay?”

“Yes. That works. Thank you.” I took my little appointment card, tucked it in my overpriced purse, and walked out in my designer heels. I didn’t allow myself to think until I reached my car in the hospital parking lot. Once I’d closed the door, I finally let it sink in.

I had cancer.

The first thing I did once I’d managed to stop crying was dial Chad.

It went straight to his voicemail. I left a message telling him to call me.

I had no idea how long his audition was, but it was after eleven, and he’d already been there for two hours.

I drove to his apartment in West Hollywood, hoping he’d be finished soon.

Although we’d been together almost a year, we maintained separate places because of our busy schedules and our preference for independent living.

He was a year older than I was, and like me, he’d never done a serious relationship before now.

We were good together, although if I was being honest, he’d been acting distracted lately.

Probably the pressure of all his auditions.

After what had appeared to be a break almost ten years ago in a small feature film, he’d yet to repeat that success.

Instead, he’d landed a few commercials and had some small parts in television shows over the years.

Nothing big. I knew it was eating at him and hoped the audition today would give him a leg up.

We loved the same restaurants, appreciated the same night life, and both enjoyed living in LA. He didn’t mind when I was busy with work, and I felt the same when it came to him. We often teased we were a low-maintenance couple. It seemed to work really well for us.

Once I parked in his lot, I contemplated calling my brother, Russ, but I knew he’d ask a hundred questions, none of which I was able to answer yet. Best to wait until I had more information after the next biopsy.

Shit. I had to call the studio where I worked. I’d na?vely thought I’d go into the office after my appointment today.

My boss, Julian, the Vice President of Operations picked up on the first ring. “Hello, my favorite social director who was supposed to be in the office by now.”

That was my boss, passive-aggressive with a lean toward aggressive.

“I know, but—” I took a deep breath. “I just found out I have breast cancer.”

“You’re joking.”

Why the hell would I jest about something like that? Did people go around making jokes about having cancer? “I can assure you I’m not. I have another biopsy tomorrow afternoon to hopefully be able to see if it has spread from the tumor. I’m in a state of shock, to be honest.”

“That makes two of us. Are you planning to take the rest of today off?”

“Yes.” I mean, I was new to this having-cancer gig, but it certainly seemed like something someone who found out would do. Or more importantly, something a sympathetic boss might offer.

“Okay. Will you be in before your appointment tomorrow? We have the Starfire premiere party next Monday.”

I was speechless at the way he was treating this news. But I also wasn’t one to shirk my duties. I had four events in the next week alone. “I understand. I’ll be in tomorrow morning. I’ll probably have to meet with HR. I’ll need to leave early for the procedure.”

My words were met with a long sigh as if I’d inconvenienced him with the news.

I had to fight a new round of tears. I’d spent the last seven years of my life working for Julian as the social director of one of the best Hollywood studios.

Sixty-hour weeks, two a.m. phone calls, all-nighters, ridiculous demands from clients—but all of it I’d done as a loyal employee.

Right now, it was obvious loyalty was a one-way street.

“I need you to meet with Mollie Tan tomorrow about the upcoming events. It’s imperative you get her up to speed in the next couple of weeks. Not to sound heartless, but the show must go on, darling.”

He didn’t just sound heartless; he was heartless.

Mollie would be all too happy to take over.

Permanently. She’d been gunning for my position during the last four months she’d been there.

“I will set up a meeting with Mollie.” Frankly, I wasn’t certain at this point I was interested in doing either of them the favor.

Time was no longer a commodity I had to waste, and frankly Julian wasn’t exactly inspiring my devotion.

He tsked. “I’m really hoping you can stay long enough for the gala which is eight weeks away? It’s our biggest event of the year. You not being there would be devastating.”

Interesting word. Devastating.

Cancer seemed to fit that bill, although I might not even use the word yet considering there were options.

But Julian threw it around as if a Hollywood party not executing smoothly would be the end of the world.

Did he really believe I should delay cancer treatments for eight weeks?

“It depends. I don’t have a clue where I’ll be in my treatment plan eight weeks from now. ”

“Well, that’s a problem. When will you know?”

“When they tell me.” My resentment bubbled over causing me to speak up.

“You know, for the last seven years I’ve worked my ass off for the company and for you, Julian.

I’ve never taken one sick hour. Then the moment I need something—perhaps an ounce of empathy for Christ’s sake—you treat me like I owe you something here. ”