He meets my gaze. “There’s a golf-ball-sized tumor pressing down on my brain stem. Docs aren’t sure if it’s cancer or not. With surgery, I’ve got a thirty percent chance of a normal life. Without…the doctors give me twomonths.”
Our entire friendship plays on fast-forward. How intimidated I was when I met him. How I found him drunk off his ass behind the mess two weeks later, hung up on some girl back home. How he reamed me for not double-checking my suit on my first solo disposal. How wrecked I was the night I told him why my parents don’t speak to meanymore.
“You’re having the surgery. Please tell me you’re having the surgery.” If he says no, I don’t know how I’ll stayupright.
“In ten days.” He clears his throat, and at his sides, his fists tremble slightly. “I can’t do this withoutyou,Pint.”
My long-ago nickname, Pint-Sized—because despite my height, I was thin as a rail when I joined the army—sends me over the edge, and I wrap my arms around him as we cling to all we each have left. Eachother.
* * *
Ican’t sleep.After spending an hour with Dr. Google researching brain stem tumors, I’m terrified for Royce. He wants me to take over the company while he recovers, but what do I know about managing people? I can’t even open up to my boyfriend—former boyfriend, I guess, as he hasn’t contacted me. I sent him an “are you there?” message, but he hasn’t responded, so I give up and pour myself a generous shot of bourbon as I log on toVetNet.
More than once I switch over to the chat window, wishing I could talk to West, but he’s been offline for three days now. As my eyes start to burn again, I click onHuskyFan’sname.
He read my last message as soon as I sent it, and he posted on the Vents and Rants board yesterday about his mother-in-law and how his second job presented an unexpected challenge when he had to outsmart a particularly ugly problem, but he hasn’t repliedtome.
“What the hell?” Maybe today’s my day for things to work out. After all, I managed an honest conversation with Royce, despite the pain it caused. Seems safe enough to test the waters with a guy I’ve never met inperson.
FlashPoint:Hey, HF. I haven’t heard from you in a few days. Life…hasn’t been great here. I think I broke up with my guy, and work sucks ass. One of my coworkers—a friend—quit, and I’m afraid he’ll never forgive me. My boss…well, we talked and we might be almost solid again, but he’s got some serious shit going on and I’m worried about him. I hope you’re doing better. Having fun at your side job? Is that helping things with your wife any? Check in, okay? I could really use a friend right now, and they seem to be in short supplythesedays.
After I brush my teeth, I return to my laptop to see that he’s read the message, but again, hasn’t replied. Maybe my luck hasn’t changed that muchafterall.
15
Cam
As I’ve chipped awayat Oversight’s last remaining problems the past three days, my own have percolated in the background. Coming face-to-face with my failings in the long hours I’ve spent alone in front of a computer has left me questioning everything, and I don’t like the answers I’ve found. Give me a bomb and I know what to do. Wires, circuits, timers, and fuel all behave in logical, predictable ways. Put me in front of a man I care deeply for—a man I might even have been able to love—and I’m paralyzedwithfear.
I’ve spent a good portion of my nights thinking about our time together. West shared his life with me. Not just the pretty parts, but the uncomfortable, messy bits that no one likes to acknowledge: his nightmares, his business troubles, his perceived failings as a SEAL teamleader.
What did I do? I pushed him away rather than admit my own shortfalls as a friend, a programmer, a partner. When I can breathe again, I’ll show up at his door and apologize in person. Even if we can’t find our way back to a relationship, he deservesthatmuch.
For what I hope is the final time before we turn the system on for good, I update the Oversight server. One module, two, three, four…I hold my breath as I watch the system monitor after each piece of the software comes online. No memory leaks. I shudder as a small piece of stress falls away. Finally. “You beautiful piece of ones and zeroes. I want to kiss you!” If I could dance, I’d pick up the laptop and waltz around the room. Instead, I settle for blowing a kiss at the screen with anexaggerated“mwah!”
“Would you like to be alone?” Royce slips through the door into Coana’s server room with a cappuccino in his hand. “This is a hotel. I’m pretty sure you could rent a room and go at it with the software allnightlong.”
I throw a wadded-up Post-It note at him, but my aim sucks, and the projectile bounces off the to-go cup seconds before he hands me the steamingbeverage.
“You’re a god.” The rich, caffeinated nectar revives me, and I close my eyes to enjoy thesensation.
“How are you doing?” He’s largely left me alone this week, but the few times we’ve found ourselves in the same room, he’s been more like the old Royce, the one who knew me back when I barely knew myself. He won’t talk about his upcoming surgery—not in any detail—but his voice carries a near permanent sadness that I ache to be abletoease.
I should tell him the truth. Should tell him how every night I go home and have to talk myself out of reaching for the bourbon to quiet my demons. How I miss West. How I both dread going to Coana and wish I could spend every minute here because I hate being alone in a condo that still smells vaguely ofchocolate.
Instead, I force a half-smile. Avoidance, on sale now. Fifty percent off with a bonus free gift of cowardice. If I stick my head in the sand, the rest of the world will go away, right? He peers down at me, concern drawing a single line between his brows. Bags bruise the pale skin underhiseyes.
My own issues beat a hasty retreat in the face of a man who might not see next month. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. Sit down. What did thedoctorsay?”
A weary groan escapes as he settles into the chair next to mine. “Which one? I’ve got doctor’s appointments every day. MRIs, CAT scans, therapy—I might as well move in to Harborview Medical Center now. I hear the rent’s somewhere north of outrageous,though.”
I struggle not to roll my eyes or berate him for his humor. “What do you need for post-opcare?”
“My brother will come up if I make it through the surgery.” He stares at his hands clasped around the coffee cup in his lap. “I told him not to book anything until they know. He’s got two kids, his wife works full time…he doesn’t need to waste his vacation unless there’s a good chance I’m going to be…me at the end of this wholething.”
“I’ll be there for the surgery. For as long as youneedme.”
Shock paints his drawn features with a pinkish hue, and he shakes his head. “Don’t.”
