by K. L. Myers
“What… what are you talking about, Cayson?”
“I’m leaving in a couple of weeks for a world tour, Kayla. I’ll be gone for a bit, but I’m not willing to leave without knowing we are okay. So, come with me, not for the whole thing. I know you can't do that, but for a couple of weeks. Spend that time with me. Let me show you how important you are to me, please. I’m afraid if I leave and we haven’t had a chance to explore how good we are together for more than a couple of days, you won’t be here when I get back.”
“Wow, my head is spinning,” Kayla replies. “I won’t say we don’t have a connection, Cayson, but you broke my heart by not even acknowledging that I existed after we slept together. Then you show up out of the blue at my author event, telling me you want to make everything right. We spend two days together, and now you want me to come away with you for two weeks because you think I won’t want to see you when you get back. It doesn’t work that way. You can’t make everything alright by taking me away for two weeks.”
My eyes lock with hers, hoping she’ll see the pleading and desperation in mine. I can’t lose her. I just can’t, which leaves me no other option than to go with plan B. “Fine, but I can’t leave things like this. I have to head home in the morning, and then we head out in two weeks for three months abroad before we come back to the States. Promise me for those three months that you won’t go on any more dates with that douche bag Randy. I promise you, I’ll call every night, text when I can, and when I get back on US soil, you’ll let me fly you out to where I am so we can spend a few days together. Please, Kayla, give me a chance, give us a chance.”
Agonizing minutes pass. I can see the wheels turning in Kayla’s head as she contemplates my offer. Her expressions give nothing away that would lead me to know what her answer will be. When she finally speaks, all I hear is one word, “Okay,” before I tune out everything else she’s saying. When I say I tune out everything she’s saying, it isn’t because I don’t want to hear what she has to say. It’s because my heart is beating so fast with elation that all I can think about is her finally giving me the opportunity to show her and how much I can’t fuck things up again.
“Cayson, did you hear a word I just said?”
“Uhm, I want to lie to you and say yes, I heard everything, but honestly, princess, when you I heard you say okay, I kind of got lost in my own head. I’m sorry, please repeat it.” I hope Kayla can see the sincerity in my eyes and hear it in the tone of my voice.
Her head shakes from side to side, not in anger but in amusement. “I said, I don’t expect you to call me every day. Remember, I know what your days are like; I’ve lived them. If you make promises that you can’t keep, it will only upset me and cause us more grief. As far as Randy is concerned, we are only friends and have only been friends. I’m sure he would like there to be more, but there never will be. I’ll make sure he understands that, but you have to promise me no groupies, not a single one, or I’ll never speak to you again. Understood?”
Elation, that’s the only word that can describe what I’m feeling in that moment. “I promise.” Two simple words that I know I can honor. Without waiting for any response from Kayla, I quickly wrap my arms around her, pulling her in tight, and begin kissing the shit out of her. Lips, tongue, and teeth are all involved as I devour her mouth, there on the porch, under the stars, in the quiet of the night.
I wake to the rising of the sun, finding Kayla still embraced in my arms, her head resting on my chest just as we were before we fell asleep last night. I couldn’t bear to sleep without her near me if this was going to be the last night we would have together for over another three months.
Chapter 13
Cayson
Three Months Later
The band and I are finishing out the European portion of our tour, and I can’t wait to get home and see Kayla. Three months ago, I wasn’t sure if Kayla and I were strong enough to make it through. I had hurt her something fierce, and even though she agreed to work through a relationship with me, I had my doubts that it would work. Who goes into a relationship knowing that you won’t see one another for months on end, where tens of thousands of miles will separate you from each other? Well, we did, and I was committed to making it work. I wasn’t going to fuck this up again, so I made sure to stay true to my word and FaceTime her every day. The time difference was a challenge. Nevertheless, one thing I made sure happened every day: Kayla was the first person I spoke to every morning. I wanted to be the first face she saw and voice she heard every morning when she woke up. That entailed me having to set the alarm on my phone to make sure I didn’t forget. Most of the time her morning was my evening which meant our calls were short and sweet since I was normally just about ready to head onto a stage to perform. I also wanted Kayla to be the last person I spoke to every night. When I fell asleep, I wanted it to be to her face. Hell, my mom didn’t get as many calls or texts as Kayla did.
I was the voice waking her up every morning and wishing her an awesome day, and she was the face I envisioned in the crowd as I sung each night. Throw in a shit ton of texts a day, and it was like we were never apart. That was until the FaceTime stopped. Tonight, I’m extra exhausted; it has been a long travel day, and things with Rocky have been off ever since we left Amsterdam. I suspect he may have fallen off the wagon again, but I am too consumed with what is going on with Kayla and me to let it sink in too deep. Rocky still hasn’t found his own personal babysitter yet, and the security we have with us is crap, so I did the next best thing and called his sister, Ellie. Ellie keeps Rocky under control and on the straight and narrow, and since we all went to school together, she fits right in with the band. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to babysit Rocky, keep the tour rolling along, and work on my relationship with the one good thing in my life. Something had to take a back burner, and it surely wasn’t going to be Kayla.
My body is aching to touch Kayla and hold her again. As much I dream and fantasize about the sex with her, I’m craving the intimacy of just being with her again. I miss her, and I want to let her know how much. It’s something I have to show her; I can’t tell her or text it to her, so I settle on just a quick, simple text for now.
ME: I can’t wait to see you next week. Mom has a spare key to my place. Be there when I get home. Please.
KAYLA: Of course. Can’t wait to see you. We have a lot to talk about (heart emoticon, kissy face emoticon)
Now, though, I can tell something is up; I just know it. Things aren’t as perfect as when the guys and I left for Paris, even though the separation between us so far hasn’t been as bad as I had made it up to be in my mind. Kayla is busy with her newest novel, so her time is focused primarily on her writing. When she isn’t writing, or I’m rehearsing, we text back and forth.
I also make sure Kayla receives no less than a dozen roses every week I am gone. Before I left, I placed a standing order with the local florist to deliver a fresh dozen every Tuesday with a note that reads:
Even though we’re miles apart, my heart is there with you. Until I return, think of these as me and know that you are never alone.
One morning, however, Kayla refused my FaceTime but called me instead. When I asked her why, all she said was that she had just woken up and looked a mess and didn’t want me to see her looking less than perfect. She could never look less than perfect to me ever, but I let it go. As time went on, calls replaced FaceTime completely. Something is wrong, but I don’t know what. Even Mom has been tight-lipped about what is going on, and whatever it is, she isn’t spilling the beans. She just keeps telling me to respect Kayla’s wishes, so let it go. If it weren't for the fact that I know she would tell me if there was someone else in Kayla’s life, I wouldn't be able to keep my shit under control. But next week, this is all coming to an end. We’re going to get back to FaceTime if it’s the last thing I accomplish before heading to New York City to kick off the U.S. part of our world tour. And if all goes well, Kayla will be coming with me.
As the plane touches down in Phoenix, it feels as if time is standing still. My excitement to see Kayla has seconds feeling like minutes, while minutes feel like hours.
ME: Just landed. I’ll be home in thirty minutes. Where are you?
KAYLA: Already at your house. Can’t wait to see you (kissy face emoticon)
“You texting with Kayla?” Sean asks.
“Yep, can’t wait to see her.” I happily reply and then notice something off in Sean’s expression.
“I have a towncar waiting for you. Head home. I’ll make sure all your personal stuff gets delivered to your home, so don’t worry about anything, alright?”
“What’s going on, Sean? What aren’t you telling me?” All my hackles are standing on end now. In all the years we’ve worked together, Sean never handled our personal stuff. We were always responsible for our personal belongings. “Is there something you need to be filling me in on?”
The question in my mind requires a simple yes or no answer, but that isn’t what I get from Sean. “All I’m going to say is that you need to get home and spend some time with Kayla.”
Just then the door to the plane opens, and I jump to my feet. One of the benefits of flying private is that Sean handles everything that has to do with customs. Just as Sean promised, a towncar is waiting on the tarmac for me. I sprint to the car as the driver opens the back door for me to climb in. “There’s an extra thousand-dollar tip in it for you if you get me home within twenty minutes and an extra five hundred for every five minutes you get me home sooner than the twenty.” The driver smiles at me. “You got it, sir.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling into my drive. I have no idea how we made a thirty-minute drive in fifteen, but I’m not complaining. I happily pull fifteen hundred out of my wallet and hand it to the driver. “Thanks,” I call over my shoulder as I sprint for the door.
Expecting to see Kayla waiting for me when I walk through the door, I’m surprised to find the living room empty. I call her name but get no answer. As I make my way through my home calling out her name, the sounds of retching echo through the open door of my bedroom. Oh fuck, something is wrong with Kayla, I think to myself and quickly move to the bathroom, only to find her kneeling in front of the toilet, her skin extremely pale, and her hair has lost the silky glow it normally had. In fact, it looks completely different than I remember.
Chapter 14
Kayla
I wasn’t expecting Cayson to make it back from the airport so quickly, but I should have known better. Usually, the second and third day after chemo are the worst, when I’m the sickest. I didn’t want to see him, not like this, but Patricia, Brenda, and Mom all ganged up on me yesterday and said I needed to bite the bullet and finally tell Cayson.
Two days after he left for Paris, I received the results of my mammogram only to find out that I had breast cancer. When the doctor felt a lump during my most recent wellness exam, I wasn’t worried. I’m in my twenties, and I was prone to having fibrocystic cysts, and they always went away. But this time, there was a concern in my doctor's tone when she suggested I have a mammogram done. I guess cancer doesn’t understand age restrictions. We all agreed that we would keep this a secret until Cayson returned to the U.S. There was nothing he could do, so why disrupt his tour? I knew that to keep my secret, our FaceTime calls had to come to a stop once the chemo treatments started and had their effect on me. I was comforted by the knowledge that if Cayson knew, he would be by my side immediately, but it also became a burden as well because I didn’t need him causing problems with the label by calling off the remainder of the tour.
As I empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet, I hear his deep, booming voice. “What the fuck, Kayla?” It isn’t anger I hear in his tone; no, it’s more one of concern.
When Cayson drops to his knees beside me and reaches out to pull my hair back, I throw out my hand to stop him. “Don’t, please don’t touch me.”
“Kayla, what’s wrong, princess? What can I do to help?” There is so much distress and worry in his words that I start to cry.
“Just go wait for me in the living room, please, Cayson. Give me some time. I promise to answer all your questions then.”
Once Cayson is out of the room, I flush the toilet and then lower my head to rest on my forearm. I’m dreading the conversation we need to have. Closing my eyes, I think back to when the only concern in my life was what flavor coffee creamer I was going to use that day. Oh, how things have changed. Once the nauseous feeling has left my body, I stand and look at myself in the mirror. What I see is a shell of the person I once was. The dark purple circles under my eyes and the bags from lack of sleep stand out in contrast to my pasty-white skin. This is not going to be an easy conversation to have.
When I step out of the bathroom, I’m startled to see Cayson sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. His elbows are resting on his thighs. He’s deep in thought, not aware that I’m standing there. His brown hair is mussed from running his hands through it. When he lifts his head, his beautiful, pain-stricken blue eyes lock with mine as he pats the bed next to him. I move to sit beside him, and his rose-tattooed hand moves to rest on my knee, squeezing it lightly. “Tell me what’s going on, Kayla.” His voice is laced with angst as he speaks.
“I’m so sorry, Cayson. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I couldn’t tell you, not while you were on the road.” I pause for a moment trying to build the courage to continue. “I found out several days after you left that there was an abnormality on my mammogram. It was enough for my doctor to refer me to a specialist. I never expected to hear I have cancer.“
Cayson's arms wrap around me tightly, pulling me into his side as he whispers in my ear, “I’m so sorry, princess.”
I feel safe in his arms, like nothing bad can happen as long as he ‘s there holding me. Keeping me safe. “I was in shock at first. I couldn’t believe it was true. It didn’t really hit me until I sat at Mom’s kitchen table and watched as she began to cry. I knew it was real then. Nothing ever worries my mom, but right then, worry was all I saw in her eyes.”
Cayson’s lips move to my forehead and kiss me gently, giving me the strength to continue. “Mom and I cried together as we held each other. Then she stood up, grabbed the phone, and made two phone calls. I bet you can’t guess who those calls were to.”
I hear the chuckle come from Cayson’s mouth and feel the vibration of his body moving. “She called my mom and Patricia, didn’t she? I can’t believe they’ve been friends all these years, and I never knew you existed until the day you walked onto my bus.” I don’t even have to confirm his question; we both know those three women are thick as thieves. They are college friends and best of buddies. If one has a crisis, they all have a crisis. These three women are inseparable and are always there to support each other.
I can’t hold back any longer, and the tears begin to fall. “Within an hour, I had all three of them by my side. Your mom was amazing, Cayson. She made a phone call to your uncle, and the next thing I knew, I had an appointment the next day. I didn’t know your uncle was an oncologist, though. I mean, I knew he was a doctor, but what were the odds? When I met with your uncle the next day, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but he made it all seem so unscary.”
Cayson stands and starts pacing the room. “I should have been here with you, Kayla. You shouldn’t have had to go through this alone.” His pacing stops once he’s back in front of me.
“I wasn’t alone, Cayson. Every appointment, every treatment, your mom and my mom were right there with me. I think Patricia felt left out, but that was only because she had a full plate at work. I’m sure if she could have been there, she would have.”
Cayson drops to his knees in front of me, anger and hurt filling his eyes. “I can’t fucking believe my mom was there for all of this and never once thought it was important to tell me. She knows how I feel about you. She should have told me even if you had no intention of doing so.”
&n
bsp; “It wasn’t that I had no intention of telling you, Cayson. It was just not the right time. There was nothing you could have done. I had all the support I needed at the time, and telling you wouldn’t have made it go away or made it any better.”
“You took away my ability to be there for you, Kayla. We’re supposed to be building something together. I would have come home between stops to be with you. Did Sean know this was going on?”
I raise a penciled eyebrow at him. “Of course he knew. That is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t need you changing anything in your schedule for me. If things had gotten worse, Sean would have told you and made sure you got home to me. I promise.”
Cayson stands from the floor and walks over to the window, staring outside. “So, how bad is it? What is our next step?”
I have to be gentle with how I word the next bit of our conversation. I know Cayson is on edge. I took away his ability to deal with what I’ve been going through by keeping him in the dark. Whereas I’ve had months to come to terms with everything, he is just now learning of it.
“My next step.” I put emphasis being on the word “my,” because I’m the one going through this. “My next step is surgery. The lump has shrunk substantially, so in three weeks, the surgeon will remove it.”
Cayson turns from the window, walking over to the bed and sitting beside me. “I want to be there for your surgery.”