“Hello. What’s wrong?” My heart pounds, a cold pulse climbing up my throat as I brace for the worst.
“Sam, I’m sorry to ask this, but I’m in a bind.” His voice comes through low, tight. “Bas, the dumb fool, didn’t tell me his chemo appointment got rescheduled. It’s tomorrow. I only just found out because the hospital left a reminder message.”
I smile despite the situation, knowing Bas most probably regrets insisting they keep a land line when Alec wanted to get rid of it. Because of it, Alec found out about the appointment.
Alec’s hurried tone cuts through the irony of my thoughts. “I can’t take him. Tomorrow’s the completion of the Westmount project. If it were anything else, I’d drop it, but if I miss this, they could pull the contract. I’d ask Sandrine, but she’s not back till Monday.”
Relief rushes through me, chased by guilt for feeling it. Not bad news, at least not the kind I feared. My heart rate steadies as my head clears.
“I’ll be there. Iwantto be there. What time?”
“At noon.”
“Okay. I’ll catch the first flight out.”
He pauses and exhales sharply and my chest aches. “Thanks, son. If he’d only told me, I could have moved things around. I’m so angry with him right now. He wants to be brave and do this on his own, thinks he’s sparing us the heartache, but he’s not. I wish he wouldn’t fight me on this.”
Fightusis more like it.
I know exactly how he feels. It’s one thing to fight beside Bas, to fuck cancer and throw everything you’ve got at it. That kind of hell you can brace for, because at least you’redoingsomething.
This, it’s a different kind of torture, darker and quieter, when the person you love most starts shutting you out. You tell yourself it’s not about you, that you’re not the one sick, but that helplessness—it is brutal. It eats at you.
Bas is stubborn, and I get it. Fear does that. He’s proud, strong, the kind of man who’s never been afraid to own his mistakes or show his heart.
Now, he’s holding back, maybe because he doesn’t want us to see him like this. Maybe because he wants to be remembered for how helived, not how hedies.
I respect that. I really do.
Yet damn, I wish he’d let us carry some of it with him.
Alec’s voice reaches through the tension building in me. “He won’t say it, but he’ll be glad you’re coming.”
I snort and swallow hard, glancing toward the kitchen where Olivia stands, watching, worry shadowing her face. “We need to talk to him. We can’t go on like this.”
“Yeah, I agree. Hopefully, together we can get through to him. Okay, have a safe flight, and thank you, again. Love you, Sam.”
“Love you too.”
When I hang up, I slip the phone back into my pocket and drag a hand over my jaw. My pulse still thuds, but for a different reason now, part fear, part resolve.
Caught up in thoughts of Bas and Alec’s worry, I head for the front door.
“Sam?” Olivia’s voice pulls me back.
In a flicker of clarity, I realize I almost walked out without saying goodbye. I turn to face her.
“Olivia.” Her name leaves my mouth softer than I intend, but helps me focus on her. “Thanks for today. I really loved having you there, looking at those places with me. And your ideas…damn, they were good. I want to hear more, soon.”
Her smile barely reaches her eyes. It’s small, hesitant, shadowed by something I can’t quite read. I don’t know if it’s my sudden exit or everything that went unsaid between us in the backyard. Still, there’s a distance now. A thin wall I can’t seem to get past.
“Sure.” Her tone may be light, but her body language is anything but.
She wraps an arm around her middle, like she’s bracing against the chill. Or maybe against me.
Something twists in my chest. I want to fix it, to say something that pulls her closer instead of standing here like an idiot and watching her retreat. But my head’s already in Montreal, and my heart’s stuck somewhere between concern for Bas and the ache of leaving her.
“I’ve got to go back to Montreal for a few days. But I’ll be back for Saturday. I’ll leave the tickets at the front desk and text you the details. I hope you come.”
