He opens his arms, catching her in a tight hug while his eyes lock with mine. “They’re doing an MRI on her.”
I nod and fidget with my hands, feeling restless because there’s nothing I can do.
Easton walks to me, opening one of his arms, and I dart forward. I wrap my arms around him and Lainey and bury my face against his chest.
Please, God.
I don’t know what I’m praying for because swapping places with Rachel isn’t a possibility.
What do you beg for when the most important person in your life is dying?
My breaths become choppy, and tears mist my eyes.
Please make me stronger so I can be what Rachel, Lainey, and Easton need.
I fight for control over the devastating emotions, and when I feel a little calmer, I pull back and brush my palm over Lainey’s hair while I look at Easton. “Can I get you anything?”
“A glass of water.”
I nod, and turning away from them, I walk to the small round table, which has two glasses and a pitcher with water and ice on it. I quickly pour some water into a glass before carrying it to Easton.
While he quenches his thirst, I lean down and tuck strands of Lainey’s hair behind her ears.
Her gaze darts between me and Easton. “Is Mommy going to be okay?”
I glance at Easton because I don’t know what to say.
When he holds the glass out to me, I straighten up and take it from him. He picks Lainey up and walks to a chair, where he takes a seat. I grip the glass tightly as he positions her on his lap.
“What I’m about to tell you isn’t easy,” he says to her, his features strained with heartache. “Your mom is very sick, Lainey. She has cancer.”
Lainey’s chin quivers, and her voice is small and vulnerable as she asks, “Is Mommy going to die?”
Easton sucks in a shuddering breath, and my heart breaks for the millionth time when he says, “Yes, sweetheart.” He takes another breath, and his voice cracks. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.” Lainey’s face crumbles, and as the first tear rolls over her cheek, my own tears begin to flow again.
Easton holds Lainey tightly. “Christ, I wish there was something we could do, but you have me and Nova. We love you very much.”
“I don’t want Mommy to die,” she cries while throwing her arms around her uncle’s neck. “It’s not fair.”
“No, it isn’t,” he whispers.
Somehow, I manage to place the glass on the table before taking a seat beside them. I lean into them and press a kiss to Lainey’s hair while rubbing my hand up and down her back.
Hoping I’m not wrong, I say, “We still have time with your mom. We’ll spend every second with her and make her happier than ever.”
Lainey nods, but her sobs come faster as she cries her little heart out.
It feels like hours have passed by the time her tears slow down, her face all blotchy and looking feverish.
Climbing to my feet, I say, “Let’s wipe your face before they bring Mommy to the room.”
Lainey nods, and after climbing off Easton’s lap, she takes my hand and presses close to my side. I lead her into the restroom, and grabbing hold of her hips, I help her to sit on the counter.
Getting some toilet paper, I gently wipe the tears from her cheeks.
Locking eyes with my goddaughter, I promise, “I’ll be here every step of the way, and I’m never leaving you. Okay?”
