Unraveled

Layla

Chapter Fifteen

On Saturday night my brother was the first one to show up for dinner. We’d found out that my very favorite steak place in Seattle, The Keg restaurant, made deliveries. That took the burden off of Russ for picking up the food.

“I’m tempted to hug you, but I don’t want to hurt your, uh—you know— Sorry.”

Russ was adorably awkward in not mentioning the word boobs.

“It’s okay. No hugs yet, but I can say thank you for coming.

” I was recovering each and every day and had regained a good deal of mobility in my arms. I also was off of the pain killers, using only Motrin at night.

I hoped to get my drains out by the end of next week.

“I’m happy to be here. I placed the dinner order. Should be here within the hour.”

“Thanks for that. How are you? Did you ask Suzanne out yet?” What I craved most was a normal conversation that had nothing to do with cancer.

He opened a beer, one of the six-pack he’d brought over. “Yep, and—” He made the sound of a car crash. “She pulled the ‘I really want to be friends but don’t wish to date someone I work with’ card. Can’t say I blame her.”

I frowned, sipping on my water. “I can. It’s her loss.”

“Thanks, sis. Anyhow, I was thinking maybe I’d go to the hospital with you on Monday for your chemo treatment and see if that cute nurse you had is there?”

“Nice try. But I’m going by myself.” I’d been through this with him before.

I was determined to take control of at least one thing, given I had so little control over this disease in general.

That meant I wanted to get the treatment on my terms, without relying on anyone.

Partly, I wanted to prove I was strong enough to do it.

But even more than that, I didn’t want to be a burden on anyone.

Plus, if Russ went, my mother would insist on coming, too.

However, if I told everyone I was going solo, no one could argue about it.

“I think you should have someone there the first time. We don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings. Or at the very least, have Kellan go with you.”

The last thing I wanted was to lean on him for my chemo.

Frankly, the more I could be with him and not have it be about the cancer, the better.

As if this disease wasn’t enough of a burden, I knew he’d taken it hard when I’d admitted he was the rebound guy after I’d dumped my cheating ex.

Kellan deserved more than I could give him at this point, not only physically, but also emotionally.

I simply wasn’t ready for another relationship.

“He has work, and so do you. Honestly, I sit there for hours doing nothing. I’m planning to read a book. When I’m done, I’ll go directly home and sleep. Patty will be coming to check on me that afternoon and twice the next day.”

We’d arranged for her to make two visits per day during the first seventy-two hours after chemo. Considering I had to do blood draws to keep track of my counts, it worked out great. With Patty coming by, I wouldn’t have to go to the hospital for the tests.

“All right, but I don’t like the idea of you going by yourself. It might be scary. And, if nothing else, having someone there will remind you that you’re not alone.”

“If I start to freak out, I can always text Kellan. He lives close by. And I’d also let you know.” Not that I would, but the option seemed to reassure my brother.

The truth was I knew I’d be scared. I already felt anxiety.

But I had months of this ahead of me. There was no way I was going to have someone take off work each and every time I needed chemo.

Nope. I’d learned the hard way how it felt to hope people would be there for me, and then they weren’t.

Of course, Russ was the exception to that rule, but I was tired of putting it all on him.

We sat on the couch together to get more comfortable.

“I’ll let it go. How are things with Kellan, by the way?”

“Okay.” I was cautiously optimistic, with emphasis on the cautious. “You know, for dating during cancer.” I paused before blurting out, “He’s a really good man. In fact, sometimes I feel like he’s too good to be true.”

He smiled. “He is a good man. One you deserve, I might add. You’re wary of getting hurt. I get it, but Kellan isn’t the same as Chad.”

No, he definitely wasn’t. But even though he was the most understanding, kind, and wonderful guy I’d ever met, it was clear something had shifted the other night.

After bringing me chowder, he hadn’t come over since and seemed to be keeping his distance, back to only texting me.

I’d tried not to feel disappointed considering it’s what I’d asked for.

But his behavior brought out my biggest fear. Without sex, what did I have to offer?

When the bell rang, Russ got up to open the door.

Kellan stood there with a bouquet of vine things and a cake box. He looked amazing in dark-wash jeans and a button-down, light blue shirt. I’d never been a girl who wanted to bury my face in a man’s shirt and sniff him, but my attraction to him was so strong I was tempted to do just that.

He came over, leaning down to give me a kiss. “Hi, babe. You look nice.”

I was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt with a cashmere cardigan to go over the top.

“Thank you. You do, too. Is that honeysuckle?” I could smell the sweetness of it.

“It is.”

“But how?” It wasn’t something you could get in a typical flower shop.

“I went to a florist, and she told me about a place to go get some. As for the cake, don’t worry, it’s sugar free.” He walked into the kitchen to put everything down.

“It is?”

“Yeah. A guy I work with is diabetic, and I asked where he gets desserts. He told me about a bakery in Ballard known for their sugar-free cakes. His favorite is this cheesecake, so I thought we’d try one tonight if that’s okay.”

He had to be the most thoughtful man ever. I got up and walked over to him in the kitchen. “I think this deserves a kiss.”

He grinned. “Russell, look away.”

“Gladly,” my brother quipped from the living room, causing us both to laugh before Kellan took my face between his hands and kissed me thoroughly. The sound of the doorbell made him pull back.

“What’s your safe word?”

A giggle bubbled up. “My what?”

“For your mother. What’s your safe word to use if it gets too much, and I need to insist you go into the other room to lie down.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a nicer offer.” I thought about it for a second and before coming up with a Game of Thrones reference. “My code words will be ‘Jon Snow.’ If I need to call on him, then winter is coming and I need help.”

Kellan let out a hearty chuckle before turning toward my parents who were coming through the door.

My mother was the first to talk. “Goodness, this place was not easy to find. The GPS didn’t take us the correct way, and of course your father wasn’t listening when I told him to turn left.”

“Hi, Mom,” I greeted, watching as she seemed to remember the reason she was here.

“Hello. Sorry we’re late.”

“You’re not. It’s fine. The dinner should be here in about forty-five more minutes.”

“I wish you would’ve let me cook.”

“The girl getting chemo on Monday gets to choose, Mom, and she chooses The Keg steaks,” Russell said, coming to my rescue.

“And cheesecake,” I added, hoping this wasn’t the beginning of a very long night.

Unfortunately, an hour later when we sat down to dinner, I was wishing for wine. Loads and loads of it. It started innocently enough.

“I like your sweater, dear. Is it new?” my mom inquired.

“No. I got it a couple of years ago.” I wore it tonight because it was loose enough it wouldn’t highlight my chest. Or lack thereof.

“After your surgery, you’ll be able to get back into properly fitting clothes. Unless you’ll go a size bigger with the implants?”

Holy non-dinner conversation, especially with my father and brother at the table. Russ thought the same.

“Mom, can we not talk about this as a family discussion?”

She sighed. “Fine, fine. I thought we could go shopping or something.”

My mother loved to shop, and we used to spend hours together doing it. I likened it more to torture but decided to give her a crumb. “Maybe after it’s all done, we can go shopping.”

“Speaking of it all being over, I’m happy to go with you on Monday for your first chemo appointment.”

Kellan squeezed my hand under the table, probably wondering if I was about to pull a Jon Snow. But I wasn’t. I was accustomed to dealing with my mother not taking no for an answer.

“I appreciate it, but I’m good.”

“Who’s planning to go with you? Russell? Kellan?”

I knew that if I said either of their names, she would feel slighted. I’d never hear the end of it. “I’m going by myself. I have the rides coordinated, and I’ll have Patty, my nurse, here afterward.”

Her lips thinned, but thankfully, she said nothing more on the subject.

Luckily, the rest of dinner proceeded without me needing to use any safe words.

The thought of blurting out Jon Snow cracked me up.

At the same time, it did make me feel as though I had someone on my team.

Not that my brother didn’t run interference when it came to my mom, but Kellan provided unbiased support.

Whether he was holding my hand beneath the table or diverting my mother’s conversation the next time she mentioned my cancer, I was grateful.

After getting ready for bed by brushing my teeth, washing my face, and emptying my drains, I came out to my bedroom to see Kellan turning down the comforter. I was hit with such a wave of affection for him it was indescribable. It was also terrifying.

“No safe words needed to be invoked tonight,” he commented, giving me a smile.

“You know, I can think of better uses for safe words.”

His expression showed his shock, before he flashed his trademark sexy smirk. “Oh, yeah?”

A flicker of my former self-confidence lit up. “I’m just saying we never got to the kinky stuff.”

He walked over, looking amused. “I’m loving where this conversation is heading. Something to put on the bucket list?”

I liked that idea. “Item one: buy out the adult toy store. Then spend a weekend trying out everything.” The mere thought was leaving me tingly. I’d never been super adventurous in my sex life, but I’d always been curious.

His hands came around me gently, gripping my ass in a way which made me feel there was hope for us to have a normal sex life again. “I’m marking it in my calendar.”

“Me too. But in all seriousness, I appreciate you being willing to go to battle for me tonight. My mom has a hard time accepting I want to do things on my terms. She’s been this way since I turned fifteen and told her no more pageants.”

He leaned back, appearing as if he was about to say something, but stopped himself.

“What?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to speak out of turn.”

“Now you have to. You think I’m too hard on her?” Although I hated it when she pushed me to get her way, I also didn’t like the idea that I was always disappointing her.

“No. You’ve been clear about what you want, and you have a prerogative to do that. But it’s like she’s trying and doesn’t know what to say. Then it comes out wrong. What I’m attempting to say is you can tell she loves you, but she might not know how to handle this situation.”

I blew out a breath as I sat on the bed.

“I know she loves me. But I feel like she’s mostly focused on how I’ll look after it’s done.

As if I’m broken and no longer the image she has in her mind, so she needs to help fix me.

She seems to forget I’m fighting cancer first and worrying about my future cup size later. ”

“That was an awkward dinner conversation. But I don’t believe a mother could forget her daughter has cancer. She might be coping by glossing over it.”

I contemplated his words. “I guess I see what you’re saying.” For my whole life, my mother had worried about how things appeared. That made it easy to forget she might be having difficulty in processing my diagnosis.

“She asked me if dating you was a good idea right now.” Once the words were out of my mouth, I felt like a tattletale.

“We both know you seldom do what your mother tells you, so this bodes well for me.”

We shared a smile. “This is true.” I let out a breath. “I shouldn’t have told you about what she said. It was childish.”

“You need confirmation I’m on your side, and I get it. I am. Without a doubt. And not to beat a dead horse, but are you certain you don’t want anyone with you on Monday?”

My response was automatic. “I’m sure. It’ll be four to five hours of simply sitting there. I’ll read a book and watch Netflix. Patty will come by that afternoon.”

I was apprehensive and anxious, but I was hoping that once I walked in there, I’d be fine. I didn’t want anyone to take time off work and sit there for hours. I really would be fine. And maybe if I repeated it enough, I’d believe it.

“I could come over after.”

The thought of having him see me be a big old baby with the possible side effects was horrifying.

Hadn’t I already broken down over seeing the bras in my drawer this morning?

Nope, I refused to be a mess of tears every time I saw him.

I’d like to retain some piece of pride when it came to how I handled things.

“It’s sweet of you to offer, but most likely I won’t be feeling very well. I’ll text you and let you know. Okay?”

“In that case, I should come over tomorrow to see you, so I get a chance before the chemo. I could happily put off painting my house. It’s my least favorite thing to do. We can have a lazy Sunday.”

“Don’t you dare. You’ve taken enough time off for me this past week. You’ve got things to do.” I didn’t want him feeling responsible or guilty for leaving me alone. “Matter of fact, I have a girlfriend who might come over tomorrow.”

He looked surprised by the news. Considering it wasn’t the entire truth, I couldn’t blame him.

“It’ll be good to reconnect with your friends, I’m sure.”

The truth was I didn’t want to see anyone right now, but I did have a friend from college who’d asked me to call her. Tomorrow would be a good day to catch up.

I slipped into bed and watched as he turned out the lights for me. It had become our routine when he was over: him kneeling by the bed to caress my face and give me one last kiss.

“I guess we’ll talk tomorrow, then,” he said.

“Definitely. Thanks for coming tonight.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be. If you change your mind about seeing me tomorrow or Monday, you’ll call me?”

I gave him a reassuring squeeze on the arm. “I will. Good night.”

“Good night, beautiful.”

Although he seemed reluctant to leave, I knew we needed the space. It was my safety net against falling for him completely.

Something struck me, however, once he’d left. If I was so determined to do this on my own, why didn’t I feel more relieved about seeing him go?