Chapter Eight
Layla
Tears threatened when I kissed Kellan goodbye.
They flowed freely down my face after I threw my car into reverse and backed out of his driveway.
I had to will myself not to run back upstairs and tell him everything that was going on with me.
But I wasn’t going to do that. I’d already learned the hard way how much it hurt when you relied too much on someone who wasn’t family.
Cancer. That single word uttered from the biopsy result almost four weeks ago had flipped my entire world upside down.
Then, in the same shittiest day in history, I’d had to deal with Julian, the asshole boss, and catch Chad cheating.
Perhaps it was true when they said bad things happened in threes.
I’d called Russ that same afternoon, and he’d flown down the next morning.
He’d been by my side through those next few hellish days where there didn’t seem to be any good news, asking questions and advocating for me while I sat there stunned through most of it.
With his suggestion, I’d decided to put LA in my rearview mirror, and move my treatment up to Seattle, where I could be closer to family.
Now I had to laugh bitterly at the timing of meeting Kellan. In the midst of my spiral down.
The night my brother had texted me from the fantasy football draft, I’d already been planning to get out of the house.
And when the guy I was supposed to save from his ex was the sexiest man I’d ever met, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a last hurrah in the form of a one-night stand.
What I hadn’t counted on was for the one-night stand to turn into the best week of my life, a week during which I’d developed feelings.
I’d hurt him. I hadn’t meant to. Then again, I’d hurt myself in the process.
It wasn’t Kellan’s fault I had newly formed trust issues.
But after finding Chad with another woman—right when I’d needed him most—I simply couldn’t go into another relationship.
Especially now. I’d be at my most vulnerable while navigating this new reality.
So, I’d made up the lie about leaving for a year.
It had seemed the right thing to do. Now I wasn’t so sure.
My foot rested heavy on the gas pedal, hoping to catch green lights on the way home.
I had a limited amount of time to grab my other bag from my apartment and then take an Uber to the hospital.
Nothing like running late for your own surgery.
Although it wasn’t as if I was looking forward to my double mastectomy.
Yet my best chance at long-term survival depended on the surgeon’s ability to remove the cancer and the subsequent months of chemotherapy and radiation.
Even weeks after the diagnosis, I was still in disbelief I had cancer.
Kellan would be shocked. His guesses as to where I was going had been utterly whacky, from filming a reality show to flying up to the space station.
I would’ve given anything for one of those options to be true.
God, how I’d been tempted to tell him the truth last night—and again this morning.
But how did you tell someone you’d just met that you’d be fighting cancer over the next year?
I had no doubt Kellan was an honorable guy and would offer to help.
But to what end? To put that type of burden on him at this early stage would have been unfair and completely selfish on my part.
And it would have been foolish to think for a moment he might want to stay.
Kellan was better off not getting involved with a girl who’d be wrapped up in post-surgical visits, chemo appointments, and who knew what else.
Especially with his work schedule. Hadn’t he made it clear his job and growing his business was his number one priority?
He was probably going to have to work all weekend to make up for the time he’d already spent with me.
Perfection he’d called this week. Best to leave it there.
The reality was as far away from that as it could possibly be.
But if I was really being honest, my problem was trust. At this point, I simply couldn’t take a chance on a new relationship. I couldn’t risk getting hurt when I was already barely hanging on by a thread emotionally.
I answered my phone on the first ring, seeing that it was my brother. “Hey there.”
“Hey. I’m on my way to the hospital. You positive you don’t want me to pick you up?”
My brother continued to be my rock. He was someone whom I could rely on, and he didn’t allow me to feel sorry for myself.
“I’m sure.” I hadn’t wanted to hurt my mom’s feelings by having Russ take me to the hospital rather than her and my father, so I’d opted for an Uber.
The drive from my new apartment was only a mile.
And making it there on my own was part of my obstinacy about maintaining some independence through this process.
“You doing okay?”
Nope. I wiped my face, aware it would do me no good to go into surgery upset about having to leave Kellan. “Yeah, I’m all right.”
I reminded myself to be grateful that this aggressive form of cancer had been caught early enough to give me a better-than-average chance at beating it. But I also knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Last month I’d been worried about getting my Chanel suit in time for a business meeting with a studio executive and pleasing my boss with my work. Now I was quite literally in a fight for my life. It was amazing how life as you knew it could change in one instant.
I’d told the truth to Kellan about needing to reset my priorities.
Julian had been a complete asshole when I’d told him I needed to start treatment quickly.
His behavior showed me I was a cog in the wheel, and it was time to get off and reevaluate.
I was finding cancer did that to you. Taught you in the cruelest of ways what was important and what wasn’t.
It was as though a lens had been put in front of me, allowing me to see things in black and white.
Crystal fucking clear what the priority needed to be—if I didn’t have my health, nothing else would ever matter.
Especially not a thankless job with a cold-hearted boss or a cheating boyfriend who’d made me question my ability to judge someone’s character.
I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t told Kellan about how my relationship had ended.
Maybe it was because I hadn’t wanted him to feel like a rebound, even though I suppose he technically was.
I’d argue, however, he’d given me the very best last kiss I’d have in a long time.
Wasn’t as though I’d be dating anyone over the next year.
Step one was today. I’d already cried enough tears over the loss of my breasts that I didn’t need to shed any more.
Instead I was determined. Determined not to let a mastectomy define me.
Determined to beat cancer. And resolute not to feel sorry for myself.
Of course, easier said than done. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d told Kellan my breasts were my best attribute.
I hoped my plastic surgeon could do my new set justice.
Unfortunately, because of the planned radiation treatment, I’d have to wait months before that could happen.
So many steps over so many months. And that was only if there were no complications along the way. I wished I had a fast-forward button.
“I’ll see you soon,” Russ said, snapping me back to reality.
“Yep. Will see you at the hospital.”
“Wait, are you in the car now?”
“Um, yeah. See you there. Love you.” I hung up before I’d have to explain that I was driving myself home from Kellan’s house. My brother might have been cool about us hooking up, but talking about it with him wouldn’t be comfortable for either of us.
I arrived at my place, realizing as I put my car in park it would be the last time I’d drive for quite a while. Funny how the little things strike you when you realize your whole life is about to change in a matter of hours.
Deciding to forgo the elevator, I took the stairs up to my second-floor temporary apartment.
With my move up from LA, I’d opted for a place only a mile from the hospital, making it convenient for appointments and after-care.
I didn’t want to think about how much it was costing me.
For the next twelve weeks I was still receiving sixty percent of my salary.
I’d already burned through most of my vacation time.
After that, unfortunately, I’d have to start dipping into my savings.
But I had to postpone that stress until later. At least I had a few months.
Dressing and packing the last of the things I’d need for the next few days at the hospital, I had no extra time to dwell on what today represented.
But once I arrived via my Uber, the nerves hit me full force.
Not eating or drinking before surgery was a necessity for anesthesia, but I was grateful in any case to have an empty stomach.
Surgical check-in was seamless, and it didn’t take long before I was fixed with an ID bracelet and taken to the pre-surgery section.
With the curtain closed, I stripped out of everything and put on my hospital gown, surgical stockings, and hospital footie socks.
I had a hair cap to put on before they would take me back.
The friendly nurses came in to take my blood pressure and ask me my name and social security number three times, all while ensuring I was comfortable.
Next it was time for the anesthesiologist. Nothing like signing a form that says you might not wake up to make you even more nervous about impending surgery.
Yes, I knew the statistics were low, but it didn’t make me feel any better about going under anesthesia for the very first time in my life.