I shake my head before meeting his gaze. “Why are you here?”
“I work here.” His brows dip. “I’m a surgeon. I specialised in plastic—mostly doing reconstructions. What about you? I thought we’d be at uni together, but you never showed. Did you go to Otago?”
I blink back tears. It’s not enough that I’m struggling with Mark’s diagnosis—I’ve now got a living, breathing reminder of the past sitting in front of me.
It wasn’t enough that Patrick cheated on me. The accident stole my future. I could have coped with university with a baby. But I couldn’t cope with the grief of losing my parents, having a baby and the surgeries that followed.
My priorities shifted, and my dreams to become a doctor went flying out the window.
“No,” I rasp. “I didn’t go to uni in the end. I’m living in Hamilton.”
He frowns. “But?—"
“I’m sorry, Patrick, but I’m really not in the mood to reminisce. I’m here because my partner has been diagnosed with cancer and we’re here for a second opinion.”
His mouth falls open. “Shit, Cassie. Is he getting treatment?”
I shake my head. “It’s metastasised Melanoma. He’s going to die, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”
He reaches over and grasps my shoulder.
I should hate him touching me, but I’m sitting in a strange place by myself while the man I love is talking to the doctor about his terminal illness.
“If there’s anything I can do …”
Blinking back tears, I meet his gaze. “I just want to know how long I have left with him. It’s so unfair.”
“It is. I’m so sorry.”
“Cassie, love?” Mark’s voice takes my attention, and I shift my gaze to him as he walks toward the table. He shoots Patrick the side eye. “Are you okay?”
Patrick stands and turns toward him. “Hi, I’m Patrick Cross. I used to?—"
Mark raises an eyebrow before holding out his hand toshake. “I know whoyouare. Mark Burrows. Cassie’s partner.”
“I’m surprised you know who I am.” Patrick glances at me.
“I know all about Cassie’s past.”
They’re both silent for a moment, and I bite my bottom lip. “Mark? How did it go?”
“Not here.” His smile feels forced. “Let’s get to the hotel and we’ll talk about it.”
I swallow hard. It’s not good. I can feel it in my bones. “Okay.”
“How about I give you my details, and you call me if you need anything.” Patrick grabs a napkin from the middle of the table and a pen from his pocket and jots down the number. “Any time. Day or night.”
He holds it out to me, but I can’t bring myself to take it.
Mark snatches it up. “Thanks, mate. Appreciate it.”
He says nothing until we’re back at the car, and I’m so staggered by today’s events, I don’t have anything to say either.
“Well, that was unexpected,” he says as he turns the key in the ignition.
The engine roars to life.
We’re staying the night in Auckland. Neither of us were sure we’d want to drive all the way home after our doctor visit.
