Chapter 11
Eleven
Hannah
“You can do this,” I breathe, shaking my hands out at my side and giving myself a pep-talk as my legs carry me up the steps to my dad’s door.
I contemplate running back down to my car, hopping in, and going home, but Sean’s words from the other day cross my mind.
Hearing him beg, seeing the pain on his face, ripped my heart into pieces.
I know I’ve been a hateful C U Next Tuesday.
The weight of what I’m going through, the knowledge and fear of what’s in store for my future, has transformed me into the worst possible version of myself these past few months.
Standing in the mirror after surgery, looking at the scars on my chest, didn’t bother me much in the beginning.
I could opt for reconstructive surgery at any time, no big deal.
It was after the choice to bear children was taken from me that I started spazzing out.
Then there’s the weight of protecting my dad and keeping this secret from everyone else.
Sean was right; hiding this from my dad has become too much.
Plus, he deserves to know. Maybe if I release the pressure valve, I’ll stop blowing up at people like a ticking timebomb.
Ringing the doorbell, I wait for someone to answer.
With Dad and Katherine being newlyweds, the last thing I want to do is walk in on them like River did with her parents.
Yeah, gross. The door swings open, and the man who’s been my hero my entire life stands in the open doorway with a look of surprise.
“Hi, Dad. Can we talk?” I ask, wringing my hands together.
“You know you don’t even need to ask that question.” He opens the door wider, and I slide past him. “Is everything okay?”
Shaking my head, I look into his eyes, and the wall I’ve built up for myself crumbles on the spot. With his arms around me, I hold onto him, crying my heart out until his shirt is soaked.
“Oh, honey. Are you okay?” Katherine asks from the kitchen as Dad guides me to sit down on the couch and parks himself beside me.
I sniff. “Not really.”
“I’ll put on a pot of coffee for you both and leave you two to chat,” Katherine says.
The thing I love about my new stepmom is that she knows how to read a room.
She never hovers over me and Dad; always giving us space to have our relationship while also confidently finding her role in our family.
I love her. I love her for him too. As I look around, old pictures of me and my mom still litter the fireplace mantle, and next to them resides pictures of her life too—Aspen, Callan, Tucker, and their new baby, Westin.
Then there’s pictures of River and Carter.
There’s also one of us all at Kat’s parents’ last Thanksgiving.
This woman has so much love in her heart to give and really knows how to blend a family.
After stalling for too long he asks, “What’s going on, sport?”
“Katherine?” I call out.
She peeks her head into the living room. “Yes?”
“Can you come in here please?” I ask, feeling like she needs to be a part of this conversation.
“Please tell me you’re not pregnant,” he jokes.
His words sucker punch me in the gut.
I want to be a mother so badly. Telling my dad that he’s going to be a grandfather is a conversation I’ll never be able to have with him. Sure, he has Tucker, Westin, and when the twins come, they’ll be welcomed into the fold too, but the Jenkins’ blood ends with me.
“I really wish I came here to bear news like that, because contrary to what you might believe, that’d be an amazing turn of events. Truth is, that’s never going to happen for me, Daddy.”
His lips thin into a straight line and brows tug together, then his expression shifts to a polite smile aimed at his wife when she brings our mugs to the coffee table, setting each of them down on coasters.
Katherine folds herself into the couch on the other side of me with concern in her eyes, and I go on to tell them everything, leaving nothing out.
The look on my dad’s face, the tears in his eyes, breaks my heart. I knew he’d have a hard time with this.
“God, I can’t believe you’ve been doing this without me. No wonder you haven’t been acting like yourself. I knew something was off. I just thought maybe it was hormones.” He squeezes my hand. “I wish you would have told me.”
“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have told you if Sean didn’t push the matter.”
“So, Mackenzie’s been your death-defying buddy? That’s it? Nothing else?” He pins me with a hard look.
It’s no secret that Dad’s not a Sean Mac fan at all. I don’t want to lie to him, so I give him a mild version of the truth.
“He’s my friend, Dad.”
“What’s next?” Katherine asks, chartering the conversation back into safer territory. “After the hysterectomy, I mean.”
“Regular screenings. The preventative surgeries will substantially reduce the risk of cancer, and I should be able to live a fairly normal life, minus having children . . . and boobs. The option to have reconstructive surgery is available, though. I just opted out of it for right now. I want to make sure I’m all clear before making that choice. ”
“Are you considering it?” Dad asks.
“After wearing these god-awful prosthetics? Maybe?” I shrug my shoulders.
“I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, but I’ve also thought of getting a pretty tattoo to cover my scars too.
Either way, these past few weeks, I’ve felt more comfortable in my skin than I ever have.
If I do anything it will be because I want to, not because of the way someone might look at me. ”
I don’t tell him that Sean makes me feel as though I don’t need to change a single thing about my body.
“What can we do to help support you?” Katherine asks.
“Treat me like you normally would.” I turn toward my dad. “Don’t hover or treat me like a child.”
“You’re always going to be my baby no matter how old you get. I love you.”
“I know Dad. I love you, too. Everything’s going to be okay,” I assure him, even though I’m still scared out of my mind.
“Whatever you need, I’m here for you. Those aren’t empty words. I mean it; you need something, you call me.” Katherine stands and presses a kiss on top of my head. “You have an army, Honey, there’s no need to be a lone soldier.”
As she leaves the room, Dad wraps his arms around me, leaning his cheek on my head.
“She’s really amazing,” I whisper, and he nods in response.
I squeeze him extra tight before releasing him. Pots and pans bang around in the kitchen as Katherine busies herself to give us time alone.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“I actually have somewhere I need to be,” I tell him.
I don’t really have any place to be, but I need to get out of here.
I know it’s not healthy to form a dependency, but when things get tough for me, I crave adrenaline. There’s a pretty black bike I saw yesterday that I’m itching to get my ass on.
“Oooh! We could buy matching ones!”
“There’s no fucking way, I’m ever getting on this death trap,” Aiden says, staring down the beautiful new Ducati I’ve had my heart set on since I saw it.
“And you call yourself my ride or die.” I roll my eyes, laughing at the expression on his face. Looking around to make sure no one is within earshot, I tell him, “Full disclosure . . . I only brought you here to muscle a good deal for me.”
His feet shuffle against the tiled floor as he rounds the bike. “Muscle a good deal for you?”
“Yeah. Look.” I lift the white plastic price tag dangling from the handlebar so he can see the hundred-thousand-dollar price. He lets out a low whistle as I continue, “I know. I need you to talk the salesman down some.”
“So, you want to use my fame to try and take advantage of the sales guy?”
“Yup!”
“At least you’re honest.” He laughs.
Straddling the bike, I lean forward gripping the handlebars.
Aiden looks around and whisper shouts, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be on that yet.”
“It’s going to be mine, anyway,” I whisper shout back.
Closing my eyes, I imagine the speed of the bike, the wind whipping through my hair, leaning side to side, flying in and out of lanes of traffic. Riding this baby would be such a rush.
“You have that look,” an unfamiliar voice says, and my eyes fly open.
Busted.
“She does, doesn’t she? Hi, I’m Aiden Brodie,” he greets the salesman, offering up a handshake.
“I’m Brad. Nice to meet you.” Brad looks at Aiden, then points at me. “Your wife looks good on it.”
“Oh no, we’re not—”
“She does, doesn’t she?” Aiden agrees, cutting me off as he turns to Brad. “Why don’t we step into your office and see what we can do to get this deal done? This the one you want, darlin’?”
“Yup.”
“This might take a while. You should pop over to the cafe next door, and I’ll call you when we’re done,” Aiden suggests, following the salesman across the showroom. Halfway to the office, he stops and spins on his heel. “Oh, and if my father-in-law asks, I wasn’t involved in shit!”
Laughing, I hop off the bike, and study it, running my fingertips along the matte black body, then snap a picture. When my phone vibrates in my hand, I look down at the screen, and butterflies take residence in my stomach.
The feelings I have for Sean are jumbled into one big cluster of confusion, but there’s one thing I absolutely can’t deny, and that’s how my heart thunders violently against my ribcage at seeing his name pop up on my text notifications.
Sean
I think all that faking fucked me up for real.
Hannah
That’s what you get.
Sean
Was that sass? Hmm?
Hannah
Stating facts.
Closing out of our text, I pocket my cell and head toward the exit, checking out the items in the glass cases, the leather jackets hanging on the racks, and the helmets on shelves along the way.
Outside, the streets of SoHo are quiet except for horns blaring in the distance. I walk down to the cafe on the corner, and when I’m seated, my phone vibrates again. I pull it out of my back pocket and tap the screen.
Sean
I need you to fix me. I’m not faking this time. Drew and I were doing some drills this morning and something’s not right.