He leans back on the couch. “I keep thinking of all the signs I ignored. How could I do that to you? How could I do it to us?”
Snuggling in against him, I press a kiss to his chest as he wraps an arm around me.
“If I’d thought you were ill, I would have made you go to the doctor. You can’t blame yourself when there was nothing obvious.”
“It could get rough from here on in. You know that, right?”
I sit up. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He cups my cheek. “I know. You’re too good a person to walk away from this. But I’ll understand if you want to.”
“What I want is a second opinion.”
He nods. “I thought you might. I’ll speak to the GP tomorrow. Maybe he can put an urgent referral through to the specialist.”
“This can’t be the end.” I sniff.
Mark grasps my chin and pulls my gaze to him. “I love you, Cassie Warren. And if this is it, I want you to know I’ve had the best years of my life with you.”
“How are you so strong?”
His lips curve into a sad smile. “One of us has to be. And I’ll be that for you until the very end—whenever that is.”
“Calm as well. I don’t know how you’re doing it.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I can’t fall apart. Not with Sophie here, and not around Lauren. Promise me that you’ll always be there for her.”
“Of course I will. You know how much I love her too.”
“She’s going to need it. I worry about her so much.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”
20
CASSIE
Asecond opinion means a trip to Auckland.
I have so many questions swirling inside—questions I don’t really want answers to.
Mark and I hold hands as we wait for his appointment. We didn’t have to wait long given the severity of Mark’s diagnosis, but every second counts where I’m concerned.
He seems more laid back which drives me insane but also makes me wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on.
“Mark Burrows?”
We both look up to a man smiling kindly at us. I don’t envy him his job. He must have to deliver awful news to people all the time. At least we already have the diagnosis.
All I can do is hope that he has better news.
“I’m sorry if you thought that I could give you a different diagnosis. Mark’s cancer is very well advanced.”
I nod. “I thought that might be the case.”
“Would you like to talk some more about?—”
“I want a word with the doctor alone. Why don’t you go and grab a coffee or something? You must be starved,” Mark says.
