Chapter 2 Nova
Nova
When I pull up to the impressive iron gates in Beverly Hills, my stomach is knotted with nerves. Rolling down the window, it sticks a couple of times, and I have to stretch out my arm to press the button on the intercom.
“Yes?” a man answers.
My stomach spins even more, and I swallow hard. “Hi. It’s Nova Allen. I’m here to see Rachel Rowe.”
“Follow the driveway all the way to the house and park by the garages, Miss Allen.”
“Okay,” I say, then quickly add, “Thanks.”
As the gates begin to open, my heart pounds a mile a minute.
I’m worried about Rachel, but I can’t help feeling anxious as hell about being at Easton’s house as I steer the truck up the driveway.
I suck in deep breaths as I drive around a bend and the mansion comes into view.
Holy crap!
I lose my ability to breathe for a moment. The sleek dark concrete and cedarwood with expansive windows make the huge mansion look both serene and super expensive.
Gosh, it’s so beautiful.
As I bring my beaten-up truck to a standstill, I feel horribly out of place. I check my reflection in the rearview mirror and cringe because I look disheveled from the long drive.
At the last gas station, I changed into a cute summer dress and tied my hair in a ponytail, but that was it. I’m not wearing a stitch of makeup, and I regret not putting on some mascara at the very least.
“It’s too late now to worry about your appearance,” I mutter while pushing the door open. I glance over the intimidatingly gorgeous mansion and manicured lawn, and I whisper, “You’re not in Verona anymore.”
Leaving my luggage in the truck, I grab my handbag and hoist the strap over my shoulder. Tension fills my body as I walk up the steps toward the larger-than-average front door, which is made of frosted glass.
I stop to tap my knuckles against the glass. “Hello? Rach?”
“Nova!” I hear her shriek.
She comes hurrying into the foyer, which is decorated with plants, and in the center there’s a glass table that has a massive vase with pretty flowers on it.
I open my arms in time to catch Rachel, and as I engulf her in a tight hug, she bursts out crying.
“I’m here,” I say as tears of my own begin to spiral over my cheeks from finally getting to hold my best friend.
God, I missed her and needed this hug so badly. It’s been too long since we last saw each other in person.
Even though I’m exhausted from the long drive, worry for my best friend makes me feel wide awake.
I rub my hand up and down her back and press a kiss to the side of her head. “Tell me what happened.”
She pulls away, and seeing the fear in her eyes, I try to brace for the worst.
“Come in,” she murmurs, visibly trying to regain control over her emotions. “You must be so exhausted from the long drive. Did it go okay? No problems?”
“The drive felt much quicker than it was,” I say to set Rachel at ease.
“Oh, that’s a relief. I was so worried about you alone on the road with that old truck. You should’ve let me pay for a flight.”
“The truck didn’t give me any problems. Please don’t worry,” I reply while I follow her through the foyer, my eyes darting around.
I’m completely overwhelmed by all the luxury. We walk into a living room with a vaulted ceiling and open sliding doors that overlook a veranda, pool, and picturesque garden.
The living room is a modern open space that blends into a state-of-the-art kitchen that would have any chef drooling.
Geez, the place is next-level amazing.
I’ve never been in such a lavish house, and it’s super intimidating.
“Your home is gorgeous,” I murmur in absolute wonder.
Rachel tries to smile but isn’t very successful.
“Is anyone else home?” I ask so I know what to expect.
“No. It’s just the staff and me,” she replies as she sits down on a cream leather sofa. “Lainey’s at school, and Easton is in New Zealand, busy shooting a movie.”
There’s a mixture of disappointment and relief in my chest at knowing Easton isn’t here.
I take the seat beside Rachel before giving her a questioning look. “Are you pregnant?”
She shakes her head, then her features crumble, and her words are filled with hopelessness as she sobs and says, “I’m sick.
” My lips part, but she cuts me off with a shake of her head before dropping a bomb between us.
“I have cancer. Glioblastoma.” She sucks in a trembling breath, then explains, “It’s a tumor in my brain. ”
Intense shock vibrates through every cell in my body, and for the longest time, I can only stare at my best friend, the words not really sinking in.
Looking closely at Rachel, I notice she’s even more beautiful than the last time I saw her. Her hair is longer, and the highlights she mentioned getting a few days ago look good on her. I can’t find any visible signs of her being ill.
“I haven’t told anyone else,” she murmurs, her tone filled with a world of fear and hopelessness. “I got the final confirmation yesterday, and you’re the first person I thought of calling. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Lainey and Easton.”
Again, my gaze darts over her face, which looks so healthy.
Cancer?
Shaken to my core, it takes a moment before I’m finally able to speak. “I’m so sorry, Rach.”
My words feel all wrong, and I suck in a shaky breath.
No. Not Rachel.
She hardly ever gets sick. I’m the one who gets the flu from standing in the rain for ten seconds.
She’s the strong one.
Rachel scoots closer and wraps her arms around me. I grip her with all my strength, my fingers digging into her silk blouse as I try to process what she’s telling me.
“I’m scared, Nova,” she whimpers, her tone hoarse from the devastation the diagnosis is causing in her life.
Hopeful that the doctors can treat it, I ask, “Are they giving you medicine? Will you get chemotherapy?”
She shakes her head, and her voice is filled with anguish as she says, “It’s too far advanced. There’s nothing they can do for me. They’re only giving me meds that will help make me as comfortable as possible.”
Oh God.
Nonononono!
Unable to be strong as the shock of the horrible news digs its claws into my heart, a sob explodes from me. Our hold on each other tightens, and it makes my ribs hurt, but I don’t care.
Sitting on the couch, we cry as empty hopelessness spins a web of fear around us. The harrowing news that my best friend is dying floods my soul with panic.
Not Rachel. She can’t die. She’s the only good thing in my life.
I brush my hand over her hair, and pulling back, I lock eyes with the person I love most in this world. When I see the fear in her gray irises, it makes me realize I’ll have to be strong for her.
Rachel needs me.
Another wave of intense shock hits the air from my lungs. “You’re all I have.” I sob as my panic and fear rapidly increase. “I can’t lose you.”
“I’m so sorry,” she cries.
Her face crumbles again, and I hold my best friend as she breaks down. Tears roll silently down my cheeks while I try to offer her all the comfort she needs.
God, Rachel’s dying?
Everything in me revolts against the fact that I’m going to lose her. I’ve been through a lot in my life, but I’m not sure I can survive losing Rachel.
Still shocked to my very core, I pull back a little, and my gaze darts over her face. Somehow, I think to ask, “Did you get a second opinion?”
She nods and lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ve gone for every test there is. They all say the same thing.”
My chin trembles as I take hold of Rachel’s hand, linking our fingers together. I do my best to fight back the tears and clear my throat before I ask, “What’s next?”
She clenches her jaw and glances at the stunning view of the veranda and backyard before looking at me again. “I guess I have to wrap things up and somehow prepare for the end.”
My body goes numb, and my voice is barely audible as I ask, “How long do we have?”
Her face crumbles again, and her tone is thick with tears. “A few weeks. Two months if I’m lucky.”
“No!” I cry, shaking my head wildly. “There has to be something they can do. I thought, at the very least, we’d have a few years!”
The same dread I see etched into her beautiful features engulfs my heart.
Oh God, this is really happening, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
No. No. No. No. No.
Rachel is so young.
She’s all I have.
For a moment, my emotions spiral into chaos until I see the despair in her gray irises.
This isn’t about me. I have to be strong for Rachel, Lainey, and Easton.
I suck in a quivering breath, and as I stare at my friend, I do my best to shove all my feelings deep down so I can focus on her.
“What do you need me to do?” My voice sounds much stronger than I feel.
She shrugs while rubbing a hand over her face. “I don’t know how to tell Easton and Lainey.”
“When will Easton be back?”
“Not for another three months.”
I shake my head. “You have to call him, Rach. We don’t have time to wait for him to come home.”
“I know,” she whispers. “But . . . what do I say to him?”
“Just tell him to come home. Say it’s important, but you can’t talk about it over the phone. Just like you did with me.”
She lets out an empty-sounding chuckle. “You’re so much easier to talk to.”
I rub her shoulder. “Where’s your phone?”
“In the kitchen.” When she climbs to her feet, I get up as well.
As we walk toward the kitchen, she mentions, “If you want something to drink or eat, just help yourself. I want you to feel at home while you’re here.
” Her eyes dart to mine, and her teeth tug at her bottom lip before she asks, “How long can you stay?”
“As long as you need me.”
Some relief eases the worried lines on her face. “The pooch parlor won’t miss you?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. Business has been quiet, so I quit.”
“And Trent?”
Every muscle in my body tenses at hearing his name. The anxiety and fear I always feel when just thinking of him blends with the horror of learning Rachel is terminally ill.
A tremble shudders through me, but somehow, I manage to shake my head and say, “It’s over between us.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Nova.” She leans in to give me a hug, then asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We ended things two days ago.” I leave out the part about Trent hurting me. Again.
Rachel will lose her shit if she finds out, and she has enough to deal with.
Shoving my own trauma away, I gesture at the device on the counter. “Call Easton and tell him to come home. That’s all you have to focus on for the next ten minutes.”
That’s all I have to focus on for the next ten minutes.
She sucks in a deep breath as she picks up the phone, and I watch as she dials Easton’s number.
She clears her throat and wipes invisible dust from the marble countertop of the island, then she clears her throat again and says, “It’s me. Give me a call as soon as you get this message. It’s urgent.”
When she sets the device back down on the counter, I lift my arm, and placing my hand on her shoulder, I give her an encouraging squeeze.
“Lainey will be home in thirty minutes,” she mentions.
Before I can say anything, Rachel’s phone starts to ring, and I see Easton’s name showing on the screen.
Just seeing his name is enough to make my stomach flutter as if a kaleidoscope of butterflies is taking flight inside me.
She picks up the device and closes her eyes as she answers, “Hey.” I can’t hear what Easton says, but Rachel replies, “I need you to come home as soon as possible. Something’s happened, but I can’t tell you over the phone .
. . Lainey is fine . . . I can’t tell you now, Easton.
” She opens her eyes, and they settle on me.
“Nova’s here with me . . . No, nothing happened to her.
” She loses the battle against her tears, and her voice grows strained as she snaps, “Stop asking questions and just come home! Please.” She sucks in a desperate breath while doing her best not to break down.
“I need you here, Easton. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious .
. . Okay . . . Okay . . . Thank you . . . Love you too.”
Ending the call, her shoulders shudder as tears overwhelm her, and I do the only thing I can. Wrapping my best friend up in a hug, I try to comfort her by rubbing my hand up and down her back.
Shock keeps rippling through me, and every time the realization strikes that Rachel is going to die, it hits harder than before. My soul shrivels away from the devastating news, and my heart feels like it’s being pulverized to dust.
I can’t lose Rachel. She’s all I have. She’s the only person who understands and loves me. How do I live a life without her?
Shit. Lainey will have to grow up without her mom.
Oh God.
My body jerks from all the strain, and it has Rachel holding me tighter, making my bruised ribs ache.
“I can’t lose you,” I whimper, clinging to her as if my life depends on it, because it does. “You’re the only person who loves me.”
What is life without my best friend?
“I don’t want to die,” she whispers hoarsely. “I’m terrified.”
I have no idea how long we stand in the kitchen, and I don’t care. I do my best to focus on Rachel’s sweet cookies-and-cream scent and how good it feels to hold her.
She’s still here.