Page 31 of Unraveled

My heart started pounding faster. “When?”

“This morning. He called to ask if you were in trouble. He respects your privacy about whatever you’re ‘leaving for’ today, but he was worried.”

Of course he was. Because that was the type of guy Kellan was. “What did you say?”

“That you’d kill me if I told him, but you weren’t heading to rehab, nor were you off to prison. His guesses, by the way.”

“I wish things could be different. The timing sucks.”

“It does. And I had every intention of not telling him anything, but he pulled out the trump card.”

“What?” My anxiety started to rise. “You aren’t serious?”

“I didn’t tell him you were going to the hospital or why you would be, but I did say I’d talk to you about it. He’s one block away at a Starbucks, waiting to hear from me.”

“What in the world was the trump card?” Did my brother owe him a favor or what?

“I can’t tell you exactly what was said—bro code and all that—but please believe he’s completely sick over the idea you might be in trouble. He’s ready to pay your ransom, travel half the world to be with you, or volunteer as tribute in case you’re in a real-life Hunger Games. He’s got it bad, sis. And if you had the best week of your life with him, don’t you think it’s worth a shot to tell him the truth?”

“So he can feel obligated to be with me?” Or worse, let me down when I needed him most? Been there. Had the souvenir memory of Felicia performing fellatio forever etched in my brain. No, thank you.

Very rarely seen, my brother’s temper flickered. “Then you’re not giving him enough credit. He’s not your jackass of an ex-boyfriend. I’ll go meet with Kellan and tell him to go home. He can email you.”

His dig about Chad was warranted. It served as a reminder of the poor choices I’d made down in LA. I watched my brother turn and take two steps toward the exit. “Wait.” A curse left my lips. “Send him up.” Might as well get this over with. Telling him the truth felt like the right thing to do, and perhaps it was best to get it out of the way. His reaction would certainly keep me from hanging on to any fantasy that we’d stay in touch and somehow make it through a long-distance thing.

Russ smiled. “Good. And don’t be too angry with him.”

“Ha. It’s you I should be angry with.”

He took my hand and squeezed. “But you’re not. Because you know how much I love you and that I’d do anything for you. Including taking a chance at upsetting you on surgery day. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think this was important.”

“I know. Good thing I love you, too.”

As soon as he left, I smoothed down my hospital gown. I felt vulnerable but also resolute about telling Kellan the truth and bidding him to have a good life.

Chapter Nine

Layla

Once Kellan stepped around the curtain, all my bravado over the situation left the building. I was not handling this like a boss. My heart threatened to beat through my chest while a lump formed in my throat. God, he was handsome. He was wearing jeans, and his Henley top accented his muscled arms and chest.

His expression was shocked when he took in the picture I made in a pre-op bed.

“Hi,” he whispered, seemingly at a loss for any other words.

“Hi.”

He walked over to the side of the bed and glanced around, taking in the hospital setup and the IV to which I was hooked up. “I guess we can rule out you being the next bachelorette, huh?”

A giggle bubbled up at his unexpected humor. “You could say that.”

“I don’t suppose you’re simply having a bone spur removed. Or maybe laser hair removal. I hear that’s all the rage?”

Only he could find a way to make me laugh at a time like this. “No. Afraid not.” I needed to rip off the Band-Aid, so I went for it. “I have stage IIB, triple negative, node positive breast cancer. In layman’s terms, that means it’s a cancer that’s treatable but aggressive. So, they’re removing your favorite body parts and my best assets in about an hour in a double mastectomy. In a week’s time, I’ll start chemo. Radiation will follow. If all that goes smoothly, reconstructive surgery can be done, but that’s probably six to nine months away.”

I waited while he absorbed my words. He moved closer, taking my hand in his. The texture of his rough, warm skin sent tingles through my body. “I take it this was the wake-up call you spoke about?”

It actually felt good to have the truth out there. “This was the one. Told you it would ruin the mood.”