I let her ramble. She needs to get this out. I need to listen and be her support. My heart breaks for all her insecurities because she is the most special woman I’ve ever met. And I know that I love her.
“I just don’t understand. I don’t want to be the woman who always fucks up and always gets it wrong. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
“I understand,” I say. “I really and truly understand. And I’m going to tell you this, Gina—not because you’re crying, not because you’re upset, not because your sister is a bitch and in denial, and not because your family didn’t stick up for you. I want to tell you that you’re exceptional, and you’re wonderful. Please do not measure your relationships by the Patrick standard. He was an asshole.”
“I know. But why did I even give him the time of day?” She groans.
“Because unfortunately, many women give assholes the time of day. I just hope that you don’t give another asshole the time of day.”
“Well, you’re not an asshole, are you?” she asks. For the first time, her tears dry up, and she offers me a small smile.
“I’m not an asshole. At least, I hope I’m not.”
“Well, you’re the guy I’m giving the time of day now.”
“Then I guess that means you’re on the right track. And I guess that means that I need to show you that you’re special to me, Gina. This is more than just…” I trail off because it’s hard for me to find the words. I feel like I’m in love with her, but I don’t know how to tell her that. “So you want to go back to the house?”
“Can we just sit for a while?” she asks. “Just you and me.”
“Of course,” I say softly. “I understand how you feel.” I offer her a tissue, and she blows her nose. “I know what it’s like to not feel like enough.”
“Really?”
“So, this is something I’ve never told anyone.”
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me.” She looks panicked.
“I want to tell you, Gina. I trust you.” I was about to tell her I loved her, but I don’t. “About two years ago, I found out that I had testicular cancer.” She stares at me with wide eyes, her jaw dropping. She leans forward, and I see her expression change. Change to one of concern. I hope it’s not pity. I hate to see the pity.
“Are you okay?” She blinks rapidly, like she wants to cry. “Are you…are you okay now?”
“Yeah. I went through chemo, and I got the all-clear about six months ago. But when I found out I had cancer, I was in a very high-profile relationship. And while I wouldn’t say she was the love of my life, I did think at one point we would get married. And she broke up with me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Gina looks sad for me.
“It’s okay. In fact, she did me a favor because she showed me her true colors. Anyway, she broke up with me, and it did a number on my ego. The cancer, combined with the fear that I may die, made for a very trying year. I sort of stepped back from the company and from public life. And there were a number of reasons why I didn’t want people to know. Number one, as the CEO, hearing that I had cancer could cause the stock to fluctuate. It could just cause a number of unwanted stories about the family and me. Number two, I don’t want to be the poster child for cancer or for my fiancée dumping me.”
“That was your secret?” she says. “That you had cancer and we were celebrating that now you don’t?”
“I’ve been in remission for six months, and my doctor says I have the all-clear. It’s something I don’t really like to talk about. My grandparents—obviously, they love me—and they have allowed me to just find myself again. I think when you go through a serious illness, there comes a moment where you realize that you’re not going to be here forever. Your own mortality is called into question. And none of us know how much time we have left on this earth. And for some of us, life is cut short. And it really did something to my mental well-being as well as my physical and emotional. I had the world in my hands, for all intents and purposes. I had everything—a loving family, money. I’m the CEO of a billion-dollar company. I dated who I wanted to. I was in a relationship with a stunning supermodel.” I see Gina’s eyes look downward. “She wasn’t as beautiful as you, though, Gina.”
“You’re just saying that,” she says, but she smiles.
“I’m not. She didn’t have your heart. She didn’t have your mind. She didn’t have your sense of humor, and she didn’t have your beauty. I hope you know that you are the full package. You are stunning. Absolutely beautiful. I realized that from the very first moment I saw you.”
“You think?” she says, tilting her head to the side.
“I don’t just think. I know. You’re wonderful.”I’m about to tell her I love her again, but I’ve never said those words to anyone else before in my life who wasn’t my family. And I just find it hard to say them to her. Even though I feel the emotions. I feel the way my heart lights up when she gazes at me. I feel the way her touch sets me on fire. And I feel the way that I always want to be around her. I’m always thinking of her. I always want to talk to her. And I know, just from the fact that I’ve shared my secret with her, that that is the biggest sign of all. I love Gina Spellman. And yet, I don’t know how to tell her.
“You didn’t have to share that with me,” she says. “I didn’t want you to share something so private and personal just because you felt bad.”
“I didn’t share it because I felt bad, Gina. I shared it because it felt like the right moment, and you feel like the right person. It’s hard keeping a secret like that. It’s hard going day by day and feeling more alive than you’ve ever felt in your life, yet not being able to share that with people. When I look at the grass, I see the vivid greens. I see the dew. When I look at the sky, I see the blues and the clouds. And when I touch rain, it is all wondrous. And that’s why I became the gardener, because there’s nothing more beautiful than watching plants and flowers and fruits and vegetables grow. You see the entire life cycle. You see a seed become something beautiful and nourishing and life-changing. And it’s made me connect to the earth in a way I’ve never connected before. Everything used to be about money for me—cars and houses. And you know what? I used to love the paparazzi. I used to love for them to see me at events with different women on my arm. And I won’t lie—I was about that life. And maybe I’m a hypocrite because now, it just makes me upset and annoyed. I know that I’m contradictory. And maybe if I’d never gotten cancer, I wouldn’t feel this way. But I do.”
“That’s valid, Hunter. You went through a really life-changing experience. And all I can say is I am so glad that you’re in remission and that you’re better. That must have been really, really hard.”
“I’m lucky. I have money, and I got the best treatments and had the best doctors. I didn’t have to worry about medical bills, and I know a lot of people don’t have that. I’m blessed. And that was something else that really made me sort of take pause, because I have access to things that other people don’t. And I’m still trying to figure out how I can give back to the world in a meaningful way that my family really hasn’t, up until this point.”
“Wow. That’s huge.”
