Chapter 46
COLE
“Are you okay, Dad?” Lucas asked me. “What did the doctor say?”
I looked at him as I pulled out a chair and sat down beside him at the dining table. I forced myself to stay composed, even though everything inside me was collapsing.
“It’s not good news, buddy,” I said quietly. “I’m… sick.”
Milo padded quietly toward me as if he sensed the shift in the room, his soft whine barely audible as he rested his head gently against my knee. Oreo lingered a step behind Lucas, his tail low, watching us with unusual stillness.
“Dada sad?” Emma asked from her highchair, her little voice soft and unsure.
I felt a piercing pang in my chest.
Jiya nodded gently and picked her up, settling her on her lap. Emma’s small hands wrapped around her as if she could sense something was wrong.
I glanced at her and felt a bittersweet warmth rise inside me.
I loved hearing her call me Dada. Every single time. I still remembered the first time she had said it, the way Jiya’s eyes had widened in surprise, and the way my heart had swelled. Being a father again had given me a second chance at a life I thought I had lost forever.
“What do you have?” Lucas asked, his voice more serious now.
I took a slow breath. “Remember I told you about how my parents died?”
He nodded.
“Well… that’s what I have. I have cancer.”
Lucas’s jaw dropped.
Behind him, I heard Geeta gasp before her hand flew to her mouth. A second later, she started to cry.
I looked back at Lucas.
He was nine.
Old enough to understand and feel this deeply.
“I have stage four liver cancer,” I said.
“Does that mean you are going to die?” he asked.
The question hit harder than anything else that had been said that day.
I forced a small smile. “Not tomorrow,” I said. “But eventually… yes.”
His face crumpled. “Is this happening because of me? Because I got angry that you didn’t take me to the park yesterday?”
My heart broke instantly.
“No, not at all, son,” I said, pushing my chair back and kneeling beside him.
I placed my hands on his shoulders, making sure he was looking at me.
“This is not because of you,” I said firmly.
“I don’t want you to ever think like that.
” I squeezed him gently, trying to give him something to hold onto.
Tears filled his eyes. “But I don’t want you to die,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t want you to leave us.” He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Can’t medicines help you?”
I swallowed hard.
“Unfortunately… not right now,” I said quietly. “Because the cancer has spread to other organs.”
“It’s not fair!” he cried. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want us to be alone again.”
His words cut deep.
“I know, Lucas. I know it’s not fair. I wish that life was fair, but it’s not.” I hesitated, my throat tightening. “I’m really sorry.”
As I looked at him, I realized with a painful clarity that this was the third time a father figure was being taken away from him.
The third time.
Someone he had trusted.
Someone he had loved.
Someone he had finally called Dad.
He was devastated… hurt… angry.
And he had every right to be.
I wished I could take that pain away from him. I wished I could take all of this away. I wished I had never spent those years drinking myself into oblivion, never pushed my body to the point where it had silently begun to fail me. I wished I could go back and change everything.
But I couldn’t.
Nothing I did now could undo the damage.
Nothing could change what was coming.
“I wish I could punch the cancer and make it go away,” Lucas said through his tears.
“Me too,” Geeta said in a choked voice from behind us.
“Punch,” Emma repeated innocently, her tiny voice echoing the word.
I glanced at Jiya.
She was holding Emma while gently rubbing Lucas’s back, her own eyes filled with tears. “I know, sweetheart,” she said softly. “I wish I could do the same.”
“I’m sorry, Bhaiya,” Geeta said through her tears. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay, Geeta,” I said, looking at her. “Thank you.”
“Bhaiya, do you need anything?” she asked, wiping her cheeks.
“I’m alright for now,” I replied. “Might need your help later on.”
“Anything,” she said quickly. “Just ask.”
I watched as Jiya stood and moved toward her, comforting her while still holding Emma.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Lucas said quietly.
I turned back to him.
“I love you so much.”
My chest squeezed.
“I love you too, Lucas,” I said. “Remember that always.”
That night, I lay beside him and read until his breathing slowed and he drifted off to sleep.
I stayed there a little longer than usual, watching him, memorizing the peaceful look on his face.
Afterwards, I tucked Emma into her bed. She had fallen asleep in Geeta’s arms, her small body curled up, completely unaware of how much had changed.
When I finally returned to the bedroom, I asked Jiya to call Jack and Liam.
“Invite them over for lunch this weekend,” I told her. “I want to tell them in person.”
She nodded silently.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling while Jiya slept beside me. Eventually, I slipped out of bed and walked downstairs to the basement. The moment I sat down in the corner, the weight of everything crashed over me.
A few seconds later, I heard the soft click of paws on the stairs. Milo appeared at the doorway, his head tilted slightly. He trotted toward me and settled beside me, as if he knew I should not be alone.
My chest tensed.
My vision blurred.
And then I broke.
Strangled sobs tore through me as I buried my face in my hands.
Milo let out a soft whine, nudging me gently as though trying to pull me back together.
My body shook as everything I had been holding in finally surfaced.
The words.
The diagnosis.
The look on Jiya’s face.
Lucas’s voice.
All of it reiterated in my mind.
I thought of my parents.
Of how they had died.
Of how I had watched that disease take them away piece by piece.
And now… it was happening to me.
I was facing my mortality far sooner than I had ever imagined.
And I was afraid.
Overwhelmed.
Lost.
But I couldn’t let that show.
Not to Jiya.
She had already been through too much. She didn’t deserve this.
I didn’t deserve this.
After a while, I wiped my face and sat down at the laptop.
If I couldn’t change what was happening, then I needed to figure out how to face it.
I began researching.
Article after article.
Stories.
Advice.
Ways to cope with a terminal illness and how to prepare for it.
I started making notes, writing down anything that felt useful, anything that gave me even a small sense of control.
Then I opened a new page and wrote a list of what I needed to do… what I wanted to do.
Before it was too late.
Tell Liam and Jack
Talk to Jiya about the wedding
Continue working for as long as possible
Change my will
Finish the project in the gallery
Help Liam with the special project
Spend time with Jiya and the children every day
Spend weekends with my family
I glared at the list for a long time.
I might not survive this, but I wasn’t going to let this disease take everything from me.
I had survived losing my wife and child. I had survived alcoholism. And even if I couldn’t survive cancer… I could still choose how I lived the rest of my life.
After enjoying a wonderful meal on Saturday afternoon, I watched the children run out into the backyard with the dogs, their laughter drifting through the open doors. Everything felt normal… almost untouched by what I knew I was about to say.
Inside, we gathered in the family room.
Geeta moved quietly between us, handing out cups of tea and coffee.
The warmth of the cup in my hands did nothing to melt the cold knot in my chest.
I glanced at Jiya.
She stood beside me, her fingers laced tightly with mine.
I took a breath.
“We have some news to share,” I said.
Jessica leaned forward immediately, her face lighting up with excitement. “Are you pregnant?” she asked.
A few chuckles filled the room.
“If that’s true, they surely got a jumpstart on things,” Jack added, laughing.
For a split second, I wished that was the news.
I felt Jiya’s hand tighten in mine.
I looked at her and saw it—the way her shoulders shrank slightly, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“No, that’s not it,” I said, exhaling slowly. “I don’t have good news, unfortunately.”
The room fell silent.
“What’s wrong?” Liam asked, his voice edged with concern. “Is everything alright?”
I swallowed.
There was no easy way to say it.
“I have cancer… stage four liver cancer.”
I watched as every face in the room changed at once.
Eyes widened.
Jaws dropped.
Shock spread across them like a ripple.
“How… What… When?” Liam stuttered.
I kept my grip on Jiya’s hand as I explained everything.
The first visit.
The second opinion.
The tests.
The diagnosis.
The prognosis.
As I spoke, I kept glancing at Liam.
I could see the fear in his eyes, the same fear I had seen years ago when we had stood side by side watching our parents fade.
“What about a third opinion?” Liam asked quickly. “I know a great doctor in the city.”
“I’ve done that already,” I said, shaking my head. “We saw another doctor. Same diagnosis.”
“Well, what’s the treatment?” Jack asked, his voice quieter now.
I suddenly felt exhausted. The strength I had been holding onto slipped just enough that I needed to sit down. I told them everything as I lowered myself onto a chair.
“Well, I don’t agree,” Liam said, his voice rising with urgency. “I think you should consider the treatment. Jiya, don’t you think—”
“Like I told her,” I interrupted, more firmly than I intended. “It is not her choice or her decision to make. It’s mine.”
The room went silent again.
I stood up and walked over to Liam.
Placing my hand on his shoulder, I looked him in the eye. “It’s going to be okay,” I said, even though I knew how hollow those words sounded. “I have accepted it… and I want you to accept it too.”