???
“That was the best meal I’ve ever had,” Arwen shared when they arrived on the sidewalk.
Iro’s free hand was on the small of her back while her other was holding her phone to her ear.
“The car is on its way. He got stuck a few blocks over.”
“No problem. It’s a nice night,” she said.
“Yes, it is,” Iro replied and turned to her, moving one hand to Arwen’s hip and the other to her cheek. “Remember how I said I’m old-fashioned?”
“Yes,” Arwen said.
“Well, I am, but you look so beautiful right now, Arwen. Will you please allow me a brief kiss? Just something to hold me over until–”
Arwen cut her off by leaning in and gently pressing her lips to Iro’s. She’d only meant it to be a chaste kiss, but she couldn’t stop herself from deepening it when Iro seemed to want the same. They stood there, on the sidewalk, as people walked by them, and Arwen wrapped her arms around Iro’s neck. Iro’s went around her waist, pulling her closer. When Arwen felt Iro’s tongue slip into her mouth, she moaned. She was in public, and she moaned. She couldn’t believe this was happening.
As much as she wanted to take this further, though, she knew she wasn’t ready for that yet, and it appeared Iro wasn’t, either, because she pulled out of the kiss after it ended naturally and pressed her lips to Arwen’s forehead.
“Wow,” Arwen said, unable to stop herself.
Iro pulled her in tighter, and they were hugging on the sidewalk now, with Arwen pressing her lips to Iro’s neck and Iro pressing against hers.
“Yes, wow,” Iro whispered softly into her ear before she pulled away when the car arrived.
CHAPTER 10
Zara
Three weeks ago, Zara had gone to the doctor. They’d run tests, taken her blood, and told her that everything would be fine. When the test results had come back, though, they’d sent her to a different doctor, who’d run more tests and told her that everything wouldnotbe fine.
“I’m afraid, we’re dealing with stage four. It’s metastatic, and it’s spread,” the oncologist had told her.
“But I’ve felt perfectly fine until recently. Maybe a cold here and there, but that’s it. I haven’t even felt overly tired or anything like that.”
“We’re not out of options yet. There are just fewer of them, Zara.”
“I’m going to die?”
“I can give you the numbers, but I’d rather discuss treatment options to at least try to slow the growth.”
“How long?”
“It doesn’t work like that. We don’t like to–”
“Please,” she had interjected.
“About a thirty-percent survival rate for five years.”
“So, I’m thirty percent likely to live until I’m forty-five?”
“Yes, but it depends on many factors, and it’s the average. You could be on the high end and–”
“But I could also be on the low end?”
“I am concerned with how quickly you’ve started to feel poorly. You need to get into treatment as soon as possible.”
“But it won’t stop it?”
