Page 44 of While I’m Still Here

“Saying my name like you know something's wrong.”

“I do know something's wrong.”

“No, you don't.”

“Then tell me I'm wrong.”

I could.

That's the irritating part. I could tell him Mum is being dramatic about something completely unrelated. I could invent a sick relative. A breakup. A family argument. Instead, I stare at the blinking cursor on my screen and realise I don't want to lie to him. “Cancer.”

The word comes out so quietly that for a second I wonder whether he heard me.

He did.

Danny doesn't move. His face doesn't crumple or immediately ask questions. He doesn't tell me he's sorry… He just goes very, very still. I've known Danny for nearly three years, and I have never seen him completely silent.

It's fucking terrifying.

I force myself to look at him. “I have breast cancer.”

His lips part slightly, but nothing comes out, and immediately I want to take it back.

Not the cancer. I'd quite like to take that back too, obviously. But I want to shove the words back in my mouth and return us to thirty seconds ago, when he was laughing about Carol and neither of us knew who the fuck she was. “When?” he finally asks.

“Found out yesterday.”

His eyes close briefly. When they open again, something has changed in them. “You found out yesterday and came to work?”

I lean back in my chair with a groan. “Please don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Become weird.”

“I'm not becoming weird.”

“You've gone pale.”

“I haven't.”

“You have. You look like a Victorian child.”

That almost gets him. Almost. His mouth twitches, but the concern doesn't disappear. “Bea, you just told me you have cancer. Give me about thirty seconds to be fucking horrified.”

That shuts me up. Fair. Danny drags the chair from the empty desk beside mine and sits down. For once, he doesn't crowd me or reach for my hand. He just sits there, elbows on his knees, looking at the floor for a few seconds before raising his eyes again. “What happens?”

“More tests. Surgery. Probably chemo. Maybe radiotherapy. Apparently, cancer comes with an entire fucking itinerary.”

“Are you...”

He stops, and I already know what he was going to ask. Are you going to be okay?

The same question I can't answer.

Danny seems to realise it too because he changes direction.

“Do you know when the surgery is?”