“I’m good,” I said, not that anyone listened to me.
“Okay, Daddy, let’s get you into bed,” Violet said once Orion left.
“I’m not fuckin’ goin’ to bed, Letti.”
She sighed. “Then you can relax on the sofa, but I swear to God, if you try to go back to the club, I’m going to maim you.”
“Baby girl, I’m good.”
She blinked back tears and shook her head. “Please don’t be a pain in the ass.”
I sighed. “I’ll plant myself in the den.”
“Thank you.”
I pulled her in for a hug and kissed her head. “I’m fine, sweetheart. It’ll take a hell of a lot more than this to kill me.”
“Well, that’s good to know, because if you die, I will do something nasty to your corpse.”
“We definitely wouldn’t want that.”
She gave me a squeeze, then ‘helped’ me into the den where I made a show of stretching out on the sofa. She narrowed her eyes and I waved my hands. “I’m lyin’ down, Letti, what more do you want?”
“It’d be more believable if you took your boots off.”
“Jesus,” I hissed, sitting up and removing my boots. “Happy?”
“For now,” she retorted before blowing me a kiss and closing the door behind her.
* * *
The low din of my kids’ voices penetrated my sleep-addled brain and I dragged my hands down my face and sat up.
“He’s losing his hair,” Letti said sadly and my heart broke.
“That happens with chemo,” Orion replied.
I hadn’t realized Ori was even here. Shaking the cobwebs out of my brain, I headed out of the den.
“But it doesn’t happen to our dad,” Letti continued.
“Whoa, what the hell? You okay, Letti?” Drake asked. It sounded like he’d just got home.
“Yes. Now, shush, Dad’s finally asleep,” she hissed.
“No, I’m not,” I said, walking into the kitchen. “What the fuck’s goin’ on? Why’s Letti cryin’?”
“Because you’re fucking dying,” she growled.
I laughed, pulling her into my arms. “I’m not dying. Not by a longshot.”
She squeezed me tight. “You better not be lying.”
“Baby girl, this is the easiest cancer to beat. It’s gonna suck for a few months, but I’m not worried,” I lied, hoping I sounded reassuring. “Don’t worry about the hair. It’s gonna grow back.”
“Okay.”
“You cookin’?” I asked Drake.
