Thrill of Love

Home > Romance > Thrill of Love > Page 22
Thrill of Love Page 22

by Melissa Foster


  Anxiety mounted inside her with each of his carefully worded sentences.

  “But your concerns are not unfounded,” Jon added. “If all goes well, you’ll probably be fine for a while doing all of the activities you enjoy. But as with any hardware, things can loosen and require a modification, and you can lose bone stock with each adjustment. Or you might be fine. There’s no way to tell. And yes, there can be less-than-ideal outcomes depending on the damage to nerves and blood vessels, but that is rare, and I’ll take great care to ensure that doesn’t happen. With any surgery, there is the chance of infection or complications, but our team will do everything possible to avoid them. That being said, limb-sparing surgery is preferred by many patients to a prosthetic leg, for purely cosmetic reasons.”

  “I don’t care what my leg looks like,” she said shakily. “I want this disease out of my body, and I want the best chance I have to continue doing the things I love.” Fear swelled inside her at the question nagging at the back of her mind. Breathing deeply, she said, “What are the pros and cons of amputating?”

  “Amputating?” Ty looked at her like she was crazy. “He just said he could save your leg.”

  “Yes, with a million possible complications and a chance that in the long term I won’t be able to climb with you, or ski, or run. I want to do those things, Ty.” As the words left her lips, she realized how desperately she wanted to continue doing them. To continue living the life she’d worked so hard to create. “I’m sorry, but as much as I hate the idea of losing my leg, losing my ability to do the things we love would be worse.”

  Ty leaned in closer. “I support whatever you want to do. It’s your body. But don’t think for a second that I’d leave you if you couldn’t do those things.”

  “That didn’t even cross my mind. The way I see it, cancer is going to sideline me now either way, and once we get rid of it, I want to know it’s as gone as gone can be. And I don’t want to risk a less-than-ideal outcome for cosmetic reasons. When this is all said and done, I want to look forward to our life, to our wedding, to all the things we want to do together. I don’t want to have a semi-functional leg because of some unforeseen complication.”

  “Those are valid concerns for an athletic person such as yourself,” Jon said. “Some patients prefer amputation as it allows unrestricted activity and less potential for complications. Others prefer limb construction for improved cosmetics and because it results in a less energy-requiring limb for daily activities. It’s a lifestyle choice as much as it is a medical one.”

  “Less energy-requiring?” Ty asked. “You mean, like not having to take off or put on a prosthetic leg?”

  “Exactly, and there are other things to consider. The cost of the prosthesis, physical therapy, learning to walk with a prosthetic limb, possible skin irritation, daily cleaning and maintenance. And you know from your father’s prosthesis that he has to remove it to go swimming—”

  “Will it give Aiyla less of a chance of the cancer coming back?” Ty asked.

  Aiyla held her breath.

  “I can’t give you the reassurance you’re looking for, Ty. There are no guarantees when it comes to cancer. Is there less risk of recurrence if you amputate? You’re removing more of the area around the tumor, so logic says yes.”

  Aiyla’s breath rushed from her lungs. “Then that’s what I want to do.”

  “You realize it’s not a guarantee,” Jon reiterated.

  “Yes, but it sounds like that wide margin you spoke of would be even less risky if we do this. And I won’t have to worry about modifications or other surgeries in the future to correct something fake inside my body.”

  “We’d have to amputate above the knee, and given your athletic lifestyle, a prosthesis makes sense. It will give you the best functionality to continue doing the things you enjoy with the least opportunity for future complications once you’re healed from the initial amputation. If this is the way you want to proceed, I’ll put you in touch with the prosthetist and the physical therapy and rehab departments so you can begin the preliminary process. But there are also a range of emotions that amputees go through that you might not be considering. I would suggest that if you want to go that route, you speak to a psychologist to make sure you’re fully prepared. I’ll be happy to refer you to one.”

  “And to Ace,” she said more to herself than to them.

  “I’d like to talk to a therapist, too,” Ty said. “With or without you, if you want to talk to the psychologist in private. I’d like to see what I can do to best support you.”

  For the first time since they entered Jon’s office, tears slipped from her eyes. “Thank you. As scary as this is, I feel like this is the right decision.”

  ON THE WAY out of Jon’s office, Ty was still wrapping his mind around not only Aiyla’s decision, but the strength it had taken for her to deal with actively taking part in that meeting. His stomach had plummeted the minute Jon mentioned surgery, and for her—the woman who was going to have the surgery—to have been in the frame of mind to process the things Jon was saying seemed remarkable. She was making a courageous—fierce—decision. Then again, this was the woman who refused to fail, refused help most of the time, and had survived losing her mother at fifteen years old. She’d seemed nothing short of extraordinary since the day he’d met her, and his respect for her had only grown since.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked as they crossed the parking lot toward the car.

  “Me?” he asked. “You’re asking if I’m okay with it?”

  “I just realized that while we were in there, I was only thinking about what I wanted or needed. I should have asked you if you were okay with my decision.”

  Ty gathered her in his arms, his chest full of so much love it hurt to speak. “Babe, I’m okay with anything that will rid you of this disease. We have a long road ahead of us, and I will be there with you every step of the way, and love you through whichever path you take.”

  She smiled, and he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her until she melted against him—and then he kissed her longer, because he simply needed to.

  “I love you,” he said as he hugged her. “That’s not going to change because you have one less limb.”

  “It’s so much for you to deal with all at once.”

  “No, babe. It’s so much for us to deal with. But so much doesn’t equate to too much. We’re a team, and that’s never going to change.” He gazed into her eyes, searching for signs that she was going to break down, but she looked stronger than she had in days. “Do you want to go someplace and talk?”

  She slipped her finger into the waist of his shorts and said, “If we go someplace alone, talking is the last thing I want to do.” She pressed a kiss to the center of his chest and said, “I want alone time with you. But before we get lost in each other, I’d like to talk with your dad about what it was like after his accident. Would you mind?”

  “Not at all, but, Aiyla, why aren’t you falling apart? You just made a huge, scary decision. Shouldn’t you be crying or calling your sister, or something? You’re worrying me.”

  “It’s weird, I know. I feel like that, too, but we finally have some answers, and that’s a really good feeling, no matter how scary it is. Before today, it was like cancer was this monster all around us. We couldn’t escape it because it’s inside of me, and we didn’t know how to get it out. Now I feel like we have a plan, and we’re not alone. Jon has a team of professionals and he seems to be looking after our best interests. I mean, he could have just said okay to the idea of amputation, but he wanted me to talk to a psychologist first. Even if he’s just covering his ass, it feels like he wants us to be informed and he wants the best solution for us.”

  “He does, babe. He’s not covering his ass. Jon’s one of the best in his field.”

  “Then my instincts were right. I’m sure I’ll fall apart again at some point, but right now I feel relieved and I feel good about my decision. And don’t take my lack of
tears as an indication that this is an easy decision, because I’m not fooling myself about that. That’s why I want to talk to your dad. If anyone can tell us the truth about what it would be like, it’s him.”

  “We’ll go see him, but afterward, you’re mine. I want you to put on that pretty dress you wore to my sister’s wedding, and I’m taking you out for a fancy dinner, maybe have a little wine…”

  “Mr. Braden, are you going to try to seduce me?” she asked flirtatiously.

  He hauled her against him and kissed her deeply. “There’ll be no trying about it.”

  An hour later they were having lunch with Ty’s father on the patio of Mr. B’s, overlooking the marina.

  “Our situations are quite different,” his father said carefully. His eyes were as serious as ever, his shoulders squared, spine straight. Hallmarks of a military man. Ty saw the same attributes in his brother Nate. “My body had endured horrific trauma, and they’d tried to save my leg with two surgeries, but it never healed properly, and then infection set in, which is what led to the amputation. The recovery I went through, and the one you will go through, will be significantly different. That being said, there are some things that I think all amputees experience.” He glanced at Ty with a pained expression. “Are you two sure you want me to be completely honest here? Sometimes anticipating an outcome can magnify it in our heads, making it worse than it actually is.”

  “I’m sure,” Aiyla said quickly. “I’m looking at a life-changing decision, and I want to be as prepared as possible.”

  Ace took her hand between his, smiling warmly. “You are a strong, capable woman, Aiyla, but that alone won’t give you what you need to accept and move forward in a healthy way after losing a limb. There will be times when you feel phantom pain, or you reach down to scratch an itch on a leg that is no longer there. You’ll have to figure out how to deal with children staring, because their curious little minds will try to make sense of what they’re seeing, and don’t be surprised if you miss your limb. Since you’re making the decision, you might even second- and third-guess it days or months down the line.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be questioning it throughout the healing process, which Jon described as pretty painful.”

  Empathy rose in Ace’s eyes as quickly as it boiled in Ty’s gut.

  “Yes, it will be painful, but your doctors will manage the pain with their medical cocktails. It might be more difficult to manage the emotional trauma.” He glanced at Ty, then at Aiyla again. “You will need the support of your medical team after surgery, but what you’ll need even more is the understanding and the support of the people who love you. They can’t see what you feel, what you fear, or the demons that might come to you at night. You’re not just losing a leg and a foot, Aiyla. This surgery will redefine how you see yourself. You’re going to have to get used to a new you and a new way of life. Buying shoes, or clothes, that fit into your view of how you like to look can be a problem. And although they have wonderful lifelike prosthetics, you might not like how it looks when you wear shorts or skirts. You’ll have to put on your leg each morning, and sometimes, if I sit for too long, I have to take mine off because it gets uncomfortable. That doesn’t always happen in private. It can happen anywhere at any time. On an airplane, for example, which might embarrass you, and you don’t know how others will respond. You might not like making the people around you uncomfortable.”

  “I didn’t think of some of those things, but I can honestly say that since talking with Jon, I’m even more determined to get this out of my body completely, and I think this is the best way to do that. If that means I’ll look different, or have a different schedule to maintain, then that’s what it takes. I don’t want to spend my life worrying that he left something behind. I know he’s a good surgeon, but this seems a safer bet. Are you embarrassed to remove your leg in public?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Maybe I can say this because I’m not in that position yet, but I feel like it will be part of who I am. The same way some people are born without a limb, or with other disabilities. If it makes anyone uncomfortable that I have to remove a prosthesis, isn’t that their issue, not mine?” Her voice escalated, and Ty reached for her hand. “I’m serious, Ty,” she said vehemently.

  “She’s right,” Ace said. “But knowing that won’t make it easier. I can assure you that you’ll be tested—your confidence, your ability to turn the other cheek. It’s hard, Aiyla. You’re losing a piece of yourself that you probably don’t realize is tied into what none of us want to admit we have. Your ego.”

  She swallowed hard, her brows knitted together. “You’re right. I can’t deny that. But still the chance of something being missed is a chance I don’t want to take. And I know it will mean asking for help a lot more than I’m used to, and that will put extra pressure on Ty, which might be hard for our relationship. I have been thinking about that—”

  “We can handle anything, Aiyla,” Ty reassured her. “That’s one less thing for you to worry about.”

  “I think it is worth worrying about,” she said. “I know I’ll get frustrated by not being able to manage things myself, and probably at the pain, too, and wondering if I did the wrong thing for us, despite knowing you fully support my decision. There are so many things to consider. What I don’t know is how I’ll handle it. I might yell at you, or say things I don’t mean when I’m upset.”

  Ty laughed. “Babe, I expect that. Do you know that when Leesa was delivering Avery she told Cole she hated him for getting her pregnant?”

  “That’s different. That’s over in a few hours, and they took home a prize. Their baby daughter. This is forever, and we’re leaving my leg behind. You heard what Jon said. We’re looking at months of recovery and physical therapy. Maybe even a year.”

  “She’s right, Ty,” Ace said. “It won’t be easy, and you can’t count on your love being enough. Even love needs a shoulder to lean on sometimes. And rest assured, you’ll have our family, and we will be there in droves for both of you. But I have an idea that might help for those times that it’s just the two of you, when you’re questioning your strength. It’s called an I-Really-Do-Love-You box. Your mother made one for me after my accident—or maybe I should say, she made it for her, because those months were trying for the two of us.”

  Ty and Aiyla exchanged a curious glance.

  “It’s a simple idea, really, and for us, it was a marriage saver. The idea is that you write love letters to each other now, before the surgery. When you’re at your wit’s end and you’re arguing, or as I like to call it, venting harshly,” he said with a smile, “you each go to a separate room and read what you have written. Remind yourself why you chose each other and what you love about the other person. Fill that box with memories and hope. And, Aiyla, you might want to write a letter to yourself about why you chose this route, for those times you question it.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Aiyla said. “But your accident happened out of the blue. Had you already written love letters to Maisy?”

  “Some, but my wife knew enough to prepare for both of us. She wrote love letters to me, and then she wrote lists of all the things I’d told her I loved about her. She filled our box with memories of our happiest times. She also put in a bottle of water and a bottle of wine. The water was for during my rehabilitation, when I couldn’t drink alcohol. The wine was for after I was healed. We’ve refilled that box hundreds of times over the years.”

  “That’s so romantic,” Aiyla said. “A built-in time-out. I love it.”

  “It’s brilliant, Dad. Do the others know about this?”

  “No, son, they don’t. Some couples are tested more than others. What you and Aiyla are about to go through requires the big guns. The others do just fine with their own ammunition.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Aiyla called Cherise and told her what she’d decided. She’d expected her sister to have a hard time with her decision, and instead Cherise told her she thought sh
e was doing the right thing. Her support had bolstered Aiyla’s confidence. And as she dressed for her dinner date with Ty, she took extra time to do the things she rarely did, like wearing makeup and giving her hair a little extra wave. She’d brought only one dress from home, a simple empire-waist lavender minidress. The dress that would now forever be her favorite because she’d been wearing it the day Ty proposed and he must have told her a hundred times how beautiful she looked in it.

  She slipped her feet into her sandals, and a pang of sadness washed over her. She sat on his bed and lifted her foot, really looking at it, and her leg, for the first time ever. Ty loved her legs, and she could see why. They were long, and because she was so athletic, they were lean and…pretty. It was strange to look at her body in that way and think about whether her legs and feet were attractive, but now that she knew she wouldn’t always have them, she felt a sense of peace, acknowledging their beauty. Ace was right. She would miss her leg, and not just its functionality.

  She made a mental note to speak with the psychologist about that, and then she promised herself she’d set aside her worries as best she could for the night. Tonight she wanted only to be a girl out on a date with her incredibly hot fiancé.

  She heard Ty’s voice as she descended the stairs. He was in the foyer, talking to Phillip. His short-sleeved black button-down was open three buttons deep. He’d trimmed his scruff, leaving just enough to look like a five-o’clock shadow. She imagined those whiskers abrading her chest, her neck, her thighs. Ty’s gaze raked down her body, warming all her best parts as he met her at the bottom of the stairs.

  “See this woman, Flip?” His hungry gaze bored into her. “She is your future aunt, and she’s my future wife, the prettiest woman on earth.”

 

‹ Prev