Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
NOAH
I leave the consultant’s office, my mind whirling with a myriad of despair and fear over the diagnosis.
Breast cancer.
I have breast cancer.
And yet, I’m not surprised.
Deep down, I knew. I fucking knew .
The idea of surgery fills me with dread, but it’s a must. I just hope it hasn’t spread and that it’s been caught in time.
I need to tell Caleb and Jessica. I know I do.
But the thought alone of seeing their faces is enough to have me going in the opposite direction.
I just need a little more time to get my head around it, and then I’ll tell them the hard and brutal truth and then my behaviour will all make sense, and that guts me.
But how do you tell the two most important people in your life that your fears are realised?
Cancer isn’t just a possibility, but a reality.
I shake my head at the idea of my body being forever altered.
Will they look at me differently? Will I repulse them?
My inner turmoil is dragging me in a downward spiral.
But there is no other alternative but surgery—vanity or my life.
There’s no contest, really, and yet I find myself thinking of the most mundane things in the grand scheme of things.
When Elliot was hurt in the line of duty and he lost a limb, I didn’t see him any differently. Yet, here I am already questioning how they’ll perceive me, my kindred spirits, my soulmates.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath and make my way to the underground car park.
I’m aware I probably shouldn’t be driving, but I need to get away. I just need to clear my head.
I drive with no destination in mind until I’m pulling into the underground carpark of a familiar building.
I park and make my way inside, surprised when I even gain access after calling the lift, and then I find myself outside Elliot’s apartment door.
Somewhere I’ve not been in a really long time.
I just came here on autopilot. I don’t even know how I got here or why I even came.
I should be at home speaking to Jessica and Caleb, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to share this with them.
I raise my hand to knock, but before my knuckles even connect with the door, it opens with the man himself standing in front of me. And I realise he likely saw me on the surveillance cameras. Of course he did.
He cocks his head, eyes assessing, and instantly reaches out his hand, putting it on my shoulder, as he pulls me inside.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
And that right there is Elliot, the friend I know and love. The one who was always so intuitive without me even having to utter a word.
Or maybe it’s my expression.
I shake my head, my lips parting to answer him, but I’m rendered speechless.
He guides me to the living room, that is so familiar and yet completely different. Leading me over to the sofa, he urges me to sit and joins me, his face filled with concern.
“Noah, what is it? Do you need me to call Jessica or Caleb? Has something happened?”
I suck in a huge gulp of air and expel it on a long exhale.
It takes a few tries before I finally manage to blurt out, “I have cancer… breast cancer, just like my mum.” He knows how she died, not that we talked a lot about my upbringing when we were together, but he knows enough.
A myriad of emotions cross his features at my admission.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Noah. What can I do? What do you need? A drink?”
I let out a sigh and then a chortled laugh and nod. “Yeah, I could use a drink.”
He squeezes my thigh before pushing to his feet and making his way over to the sidebar with the crystal decanter, pouring us each a generous measure of whiskey. He hands me one of the tumblers, and we both throw them back.
I cringe and shake my head before holding mine out for another one. He pours me another, and I slowly sip this one, conscious of the fact it might make a reappearance if I’m not careful. I haven’t eaten today, my nerves making my stomach churn with uncertainty.
Elliot sits beside me again. “When did you find out?” he asks.
I swallow the lump in my throat, my stomach churning. “About twenty minutes ago. I came straight here.”
He studies me for a moment.
“You went on your own?” It’s a rhetorical question, of course. “So I take it Caleb and Jessica don’t know.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “No, they didn’t even know I had an appointment. I’ve not said anything to them.”
I don’t even know how I’m meant to say the words.
“What do you need? What can I do?”
I shake my head before scrubbing my palm over my face because I don’t fucking know. “Maybe not tell anyone. I know it’s asking a lot. I don’t even know why I came here,” I say, dropping my hand and looking back at him.
He reaches out for my free hand and squeezes. “Because we’re friends, and deep down, you know I will always be here for you when you need me, always.”
I nod. It’s true, and I miss that friendship. Caleb might act like a bear with a sore head, saying that we have history, but like I always tell him, Elliot was my past. Caleb and Jess are my present, my future.
“I won’t say anything, not even to Lily or the guys, but if you want my advice, you need to tell them, Noah. They’ll want to be there for you.”
He’s right. Of course, he is, but I don’t know how I’m meant to wreck their world, and the life we’re creating together. Things are finally falling into place. We’re happy, and this is going to fuck it all up.
We won’t know the severity of the cancer until my surgery. What if it spreads? What if I need treatment? What if I don’t beat it? What if it beats me?
Fuck!
Could I put Caleb and Jessica through that and make them watch? Like I watched my mum until her final moments.
“Stop it. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
I raise my brow.
“You forget I know you. You’re considering walking away from them. But you and I both know that’s not an option. They are as much an extension of you as you are of them.”
“But what if the worst should happen?” I grit out.
He scrubs his palm on his chin and sighs. “Nothing is ever guaranteed,” he says, raising his prosthetic leg. “But wouldn’t you rather be surrounded by the love of them than doing it alone? After all, if you don’t have them, who do you have to fight for?”
I swirl the amber liquid around and stare at the glass like it holds all the answers before I throw it back.
“Another?” he asks.
With a shrug, I reply, “Why not.” I watch as he pours me another measure and returns, passing it over.
I just want to forget, even for a little while.
I wake with a huge pounding in my head and blink at the light. Too fucking bright. Fuck, how much did I drink last night? I roll over, expecting to find a body beside me, but when my sight clears, I realise I’m alone and in a strange bed.
For a moment, my mind is in a daze, a fog of fuzzy memories and then, like a tidal wave, it all comes flooding back.
I groan, flopping onto my back, covering my eyes with my arm, my head splitting in two.
“Fuck.” My voice is hoarse in the quiet of the room, and I have to take a few deep, calming breaths, but it’s no use. My stomach churns, my mouth waters. Fuck, I’m going to vomit.
I’m off the bed surprisingly fast, considering how I feel, my eyes darting around the room. The open door to an ensuite bathroom has me making a beeline in that direction. I just manage to make it to the toilet in time to dispel the contents of my stomach.
By then, I’m left heaving. I’m practically hugging the toilet bowl.
“Fuck my life.” I groan, feeling the worst I’ve felt in forever. A stark reminder of why I rarely drink, not like that, not like him.
Eventually, I pull myself together enough to close the toilet lid and flush, then slump down and hold my head in my hands.
I’m still fully clothed when I glance at the shower. Forcing myself to stand, I reach in and turn on the jets, then strip and walk under the spray.
Resting my forehead against the cool tiled wall, I take a few deep breaths.
After goodness knows how long, I finally reach for the shower gel and lather my body, my hands instantly stilling over the lump. I swear it feels bigger since my diagnosis, or could it just be that I now know exactly what it is?
I wash, going through the motions and then rinse off, grabbing a towel off the rack and patting myself dry before wrapping it around my waist.
Grabbingthe unopened toothbrush,I tear into thepacket and brush my teeth, trying to rid myself of the nasty aftertaste of bringing up last night’s alcohol.
Stepping back into the room, I find on the bedside table a steaming cup of coffee, a tall glass of water, and what appears to be some paracetamol.
I reach for them first and throw them back, chasing them down with the glass of water, hoping like hell it stays down.
I also see a pile of neatly folded clothes. I reach for the boxers first and then pull on a pair of grey joggers and a t-shirt. It’s only then that I reach for my phone.
Sighing, I turn it on, hating myself a little more in this moment for switching it off in the first place.
It vibrates immediately.
Missed calls, texts, and voicemails.
“I fucked up,” I say hoarsely.
Pressing voicemail, I bring my phone to my ear and listen to the first message.
“Noah, it’s me, where are you? We’re worried,” Jessica says, and I hear Caleb say something in the background, but I can’t work out his words, only his thick baritone.
I move on to the next one.
“I swear to God, Noah, call us. Jessica is worried,” Caleb says, angrily, but it’s impossible not to hear his own concern.
Sighing, I scroll through our group chat.
It’s the final one from Caleb that causes my breath to hitch.
Caleb: Elliot called and told us you were staying there. Whatever is going on, talk to us. Please.
A tap at the door has me looking up as Elliot pokes his head around the doorframe.
“Safe to come in?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah man, of course. And thanks again for last night.”
“No need to thank me.”
He comes in, sits on the ottoman, and nods towards the phone in my hand.
“Hope you don’t mind that I let them know you were here.”
I swallow down the ball of dread sitting deep in my gut.
“I never told them anything,” he assures me.
I breathe out a sigh of relief but squeeze my eyes closed, an onslaught of guilt swamping me and threatening to drown me.
“Thank you.”
He sighs. “I just didn’t want them worrying about you, and I saw you ignoring your phone, and when you switched it off…” he trails off, and I nod because, yeah, I get it.
“I guess I’ll have some explaining to do,” I admit around the lump in my throat.
“Yeah, but they’ll understand. It’s a lot to process.”
I glance up at his face. “You can say that again. Caleb will be pissed that I came here,” I admit.
He chews the inside of his cheek before replying, “Maybe, maybe not. But you need to at least give him the opportunity, and you can’t do that while you’re here.”
“I still don’t know how to process it,” I say, feeling strangely vulnerable.
“It’s not something you can just process with a click of your fingers, Noah. I can attest to that,” he says, tapping his knuckles against his prosthetic.
I reach for my coffee and swallow down a few mouthfuls.
“Thanks for this, too, by the way,” I say, holding up my mug.
He smirks. “Yeah, I practically had to carry your arse to bed. Well, actually, it was River. You were a bit of a mess and, fuck, you’re heavy.”
I groan and stare into the cup as a stream of memories from the night before come back to me.
“I’ll have to apologise to Lily.”
He shakes his head. “No, you’re cool. They just presumed you were having some issues at home. They understand that sometimes you just need to get away.”
I stare at him. “So you never told them?”
His smile is forlorn as he replies. “No, I said I wouldn’t, and I meant it.”
This, this right here, is why I came to him.
“Thank you. Was I talking shit?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, we were mostly reminiscing about the past. To be fair, you spent most of it talking about Caleb and Jessica.”
Now my cheeks heat as I recollect some of my word waffle, but in fact, it was all true.
They are my life.
“Did you want breakfast? You know I make a mean fry-up. No one else is here. It’s just us.”
My stomach lurches, and I shake my head.
“And on that note, I need to get home. I’ll call a cab and grab my car later.” Even I know I’m still well over the limit.
He stands at the same time as me.
“You can keep the clothes.” He eyes the joggers playfully. “They look good on you,” he says with a wink. Yeah, River really is rubbing off on him.
With that, he steps forward and pulls me in for a hug. I freeze for a second, but then hug him back, grateful for his friendship and support.
Pulling back, he smiles.“You’re welcome here anytime, you know that, right? Ifyou ever want to talk, I might not know what to say or exactly what you’re going through, but I can empathise better than most.”
“I know, thank you.”
He claps me on the back and steps aside, following me back out through to his living area, and I see the boxes lining the wall. How did I not notice them before?
“You moving?” I ask.
He smiles, his eyes softening.
“Yeah, Lily sold the house, so we’re all moving in together. Just makes more sense, you know.”
I smile. “I’m so fucking happy for you, man.” And I mean that, I really am. After everything he’s been through, he deserves to be happy, and Lily and the guys all bring him that.
He cups the back of his neck, his cheeks heating. “Yeah, me too.”
I pull up the app on my phone to request a cab.
Time to suck it up, go home, and break the news to the two most important people in my entire existence.