Okay, I'll shut up now.
Goodnight, Sophie.
Sweet dreams.
I laugh at his rambling and send him a simple:
Sweet dreams, Callum
I pause before I type the next line, feeling that familiar sting behind my nose again. I must be setting some kind of record of how many times one woman can cry in forty-eight hours.
Thank you for being my friend.
Callum: Always.
You've got me, Sophie.
Get some rest.
When I get out of the bath, I wipe the condensation from the mirror and catch the cheesy smile still stretched across my face.
It doesn't fade, not while I'm brushing my teeth, not while I'm setting my alarm, and not even as I move through my nightly skincare routine.
My phone pings just as I finally slide beneath the covers, a text from Tonya in the book club group chat, sending a baffling mix of emojis that I don’t even want to begin to interpret.
It still makes me laugh hard and I fall asleep with the smile still on my face.
Chapter Twelve
Sophie
The recliner I'm in is actuallya lotcomfier than it looks.
It's oversized and a deep navy blue, a faint antiseptic scent clinging to the fabric, but it’s surprisingly plush and soft. The wonderful oncology nurses told me to take off my shoes and get comfortable when I sat down, so I took off my fuzzy boots and laid my green blanket across my lap. The nurses walk around offering snacks and more warm blankets to everyone in their suite.
Honestly? It's not so bad.
I'd been shaking a little when I walked in, nerves twisting my stomach into knots. Thankfully, the receptionist was soft-spoken and kind, and check-in was quick and easy.
I barely had time to sit before I heard, "Sophie?" and was swept away for a blood test.
After that, I was led right to this very recliner, my throne for the next three months.
The port surgery last Wednesday was simple, very little pain, and an extremely easy recovery. Now, there’s a little bump on my chest as a thin catheter runs from the implanted port into one of my central veins, making it easier to inject chemotherapy without constantly sticking needles into my arms.
No vein collapse here, thank you very much.
I still used a rideshare to and from the hospital the day of surgery.
Donna and Rich offered, of course, and they've been so incredibly supportive, but I just...couldn't. Not yet. I wasn't ready to look at them and see Paul's smile, Paul's eyes, Paul'shair. I was terrified that the reminders of him wouldbreaksomething in me right before surgery.
My only job that day was to stay calm and keep my head on straight. It was the first surgery I'd had since getting my wisdom teeth out fifteen years ago, and my nerves were already running haywire.
I was dangerously close to texting Callum.
The thought crossed my mind more than once, thumb hovering over the send button before I just deleted the drafted text. It just felt like too much to ask of someone I've known for less than a week.
You’ve got me,he had said, andI'm still unpacking what that did to my heart, but the idea of asking this kind man to wake up before dawn to drive me to the hospital felt selfish.
