“No,” Jerry said. “Everyone calm down. Westin, look at me and breathe nice and slow.”
He took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and I stared into his eyes, letting his calmness anchor me. His scent was light and earthy, a contrast to my guys’ scents, which were currently twisted with stress.
“There we go,” Jerry said. “How’s your breathing now?”
I rubbed my chest. “Maybe a little better?”
“Just keep breathing,” he said, squeezing my hand lightly. “It’s just your body adjusting to chemo. Your vitals look good. You don’t have a rash. Just stay nice and focused on me.”
I kept breathing and the tightness in my chest eased. I nodded and Jerry patted my hand. “Good job. Press that button if you need anything, but I’ll be back in ten minutes to increase the infusion rate.”
“Still feeling okay, love?” Gray asked once Jerry left.
“Yeah.” I laid back on the bed, exhausted from the stress and drowsy from the pre-meds they’d given me. “This is going to take a long time. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”
“Where else would we be except beside our omega?” Bear said with a growl.
I shrugged. A vulnerable feeling wormed its way through my chest, and I fought the urge to curl up in a ball. I wanted to feel them against me, but the bed they’d given me was too small. How was it possible that I felt alone right now?
“This is ridiculous,” Bear said with a huff. “Henry, we need a bigger bed going forward. Call up the president or whoever the fuck fancy person you know to make that happen.” Then he lowered the bar on one side of the bed and squeezed in beside me. There wasn’t nearly enough space for both of us, but feeling his body against mine instantly calmed me.
“They think a small bed is going to keep me from my omega,” he grumbled. “Now, you’re going to go to sleep or whatever the fuck you want, and we’re going to stay here to keep you company and watch over you. You’re not going to worry about how we’re doing.” His tone was firm, as if daring me to argue, and I smiled as the lonely feeling eased from my chest. I needed to trust my pack and allow them to take care of me for the next four weeks.Hopefully after that, I would be cured and no longer a burden to them.
89
GRAY
CHEMO DAY 5
The first few days of chemo had lulled us into a false sense of security. They had been… well, noteasy, but smooth. We’d fallen into a steady rhythm. Drive to the hospital in the morning, an eight-hour day there, and then back home for dinner. We watched movies, visited with Anne and Rose, and fed Westin lots of smoothies and cake—the only foods she wanted to eat.
Today was a whole different story. The intense fatigue Dr. Ash warned us about hit. I’d carried Westin into the hospital, and she hadn’t even complained. She’d slept off and on the entire infusion. When she did wake, she looked so damned uncomfortable. She said she felt restless and exhausted at the same time, like she needed to move but couldn’t find the energy to lift her head.
Seeing her like this was scary, especially knowing we had just finished week one out of four.
“I’m sorry you’re having to do this,” Westin murmured against my chest as I carried her to the bathroom. We’d gotten home about an hour ago.
“I don’t mind, love,” I said.
“I’m making everyone’s life difficult,” she said.
“What are you talking about? You’re not making anything difficult.” She looked away and an uncomfortable pressure squeezed my chest. “What are you thinking?” I asked.
“Before, when you hated me, you said I made your life difficult. And now I actually am.”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Westin, love. Fuck. I was such a fucking idiot.” I held her tighter, as if that could make her feel the intensity of the love I felt for her. “Please listen to me. The only way you were making my life difficult was by being so damn amazing and beautiful I couldn’t stop thinking about you every moment of the day. I wanted you, felt so drawn to you I could hardly speak, but I couldn’t trust my own feelings. You were never the one making things difficult. I was. And you aren’t making them difficult now.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
But I knew she didn’t believe me.
There was no agony compared to seeing the blankness on her face, the flashes of pain she couldn’t completely hide. I was desperate for her to understand the intensity of my feelings. But how could she, when I hadn’t even told her I loved her yet? Deep down, I’d known I was in love with her almost since the beginning. My love for her had scared the shit out of me. It was one of the main reasons I’d turned on her—to protect myself, as if Westin would do anything to hurt me. I couldn’t understand now why I’d held back.
I set her down on the bathroom vanity and cupped her face with both hands.
“Westin, this might not be the right time to say it, and it certainly isn’t the romantic location you deserve. But I need you to know that I love you.”
There was a flash of something on her face, and then she averted her gaze. My chest tightened.
