by Skyla Carter
He was being selfish. She hadn't talked about the pain she was feeling but after she'd told them about the cancer he'd watched her like a hawk. But he'd seen the pain in her eyes. He should have made her talk about it. He should have tried harder to make her talk, instead of shooting his load into her every chance he got.
With a sigh, he threw his smoke down and stepped on it before he stood up.
"Yeah. She needs me," he said.
But that still didn't change the fact that she'd tried to leave him.
With a sigh, he led the way back into the hospital.
"I wish I'd taken more time to appreciate the things around me," she whispered, still tucked safely in Irving's strong arms and her free hand gripping onto Nate.
"I wish I'd laughed more... loved more."
She looked at Nate as she said this, giving him a sad little smile. He had pulled a chair up to the bed and laid his head on their entwined hands.
"I wished I'd been less selfish. What I've done to try and make up for that... it hasn't been nearly enough," she continued, the tears welling up again in her eyes.
"Hush, baby. Don't talk like this," Nate begged.
"I really wish I'd had more time with you guys. You have no idea how your strength has kept me going," she continued anyway.
"I don't feel strong right now," Nate whispered.
She gently ran her fingers through his colourful hair and gave him a little smile before finding his hand again.
"I'm sorry I let you down. You are strong, and being with you just makes me feel better," she assured him. "You have a good heart, Nate. You got me without me having to say much to you. I just wish we had more time... You and I would have been the best of friends by now if I hadn't been too self-obsessed before to see how amazing you are."
"Please... don't do that," Nate whispered, begging her again. "Don't talk like that."
Irving's arm tightened around her and she looked up to see his eyes. Now was probably not the right time to talk like this, but she knew time was the one thing she didn't really have. Something had changed that day. Her trying to kill herself had made her imminent death more real.
"You are a really good man, dad. I regret the last ten years more than anything. I love you."
This was the first time she'd said this to him and it really sucked that she hadn't said it under better circumstances.
"I love you, too, Rae. I always have," Irving whispered as he kissed the top of her head.
"You'll tell the kids about me, won't you? You won't forget me?"
"Never!" Irving whispered, tightening his hold on her.
"You'll have to make up quite a few lies though, to make me look good," she chuckled sadly.
"When all this is behind us, you can tell them about yourself," he stated.
Obviously, he was still in denial.
The door opened and John walked in, Corey right behind him. She tried to catch his eyes but he looked at anything but her. But for a second, she saw him look at Nate, and thought she saw something break in him before he walked over to the windows.
Was he jealous of Nate?
Maybe Nate sensed this because he let go of her hand with a regretful smile and got off his chair, making some excuse about going to find them all something to eat.
"Irving, do you want to come?" Nate asked. "A little fresh air might do you some good."
Irving nodded his head as he gave her another gentle squeeze.
"I won't be long, sweetheart," he promised as he got off the bed.
Then it was just John and Corey in there with her. He saw the way John looked at Corey then back at her before he quickly said, "I think I'll join Nate and Irving."
Corey turned from his view then, panic clear in his eyes. He didn't even want to talk to her now? God, how had she messed this up so much?
"Dude, what the fuck?" he asked as John walked to the door.
But John didn't answer him. The door closed behind him, leaving the two of them alone. Corey looked like he would have loved nothing better than to have just walked out of there with John and she didn't blame him. She'd brought this on herself. It still sucked though.
How would she begin to explain herself? Could she?
"I'm sorry," she said.
That was as good a place to start as any.
"'Bout what?" Corey asked, finally looking her in the eye. "Making a fool of me? Lying to me? Trying to kill yourself? What?"
"I didn't mean to," she whispered sadly. "I just didn't want you to watch me slip away. I still see mum's face when she finally closed her eyes for the last time. I didn't want you to remember me like that."
"You'd rather I remember you as a bloody mess being wheeled away on a gurney?" he asked.
"No! I... I never meant to do that... I just couldn't see any other way," she said.
"Even after I told you that I won't live without you?" Corey asked sadly.
"But you're going to have to," she said sadly. "You all have to. You can't change that. I'm going to try my best for you guys, but we all know that we can't do shit."
Corey bit his lip as he looked away. Obviously, he was also still in denial.
"So what happens now?" he asked softly.
"I guess I have to see Dr. Harvey about that," she shrugged.
He let out a tired sigh as he finally came to sit in the chair Nate had vacated. But he didn't hold her hand like Nate had. He still hadn't forgiven her. She'd known it wouldn't be easy.
"So... will you still need me as much as you did before?"
What kind of crazy question was that?
"Of course," she answered without hesitation. "I'm going to need you now more than ever. I can't do it without you. How could you even ask that?"
"I don't know... I guess I thought, with you lying to me about something as big as this, maybe you lied to me about... other things."
"Other things?" she asked.
Corey looked away from her and shrugged.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "You're the best part of me, and I won't leave your side for anything. We'll do this together, just as we've always done everything together.
There was something he wasn't telling her. Lately, with all the crazy stuff happening, she hadn't been able to read him like before.
But he was talking to her now, so she didn't want to push it just yet.
She held out her hand and it seemed like forever before he put his own over it. Oh, God, was she really losing him now?
"You won't leave me? You promise?"
She was scared and she needed him.
"Promise," Corey answered, squeezing her hand gently.
Then why wasn't he coming onto the bed and holding her like he always did?
The door opened and a doctor came in, behind him the three men who'd left the room only a few minutes earlier.
"I'm glad to see you," she said when he stood in front of her. "I was beginning to think you were never going to let me out of here."
"Um, actually, I'm not. Well, not today," the doctor said.
"What do you mean? I'm not really suicidal or anything, I won't try it again if you let me go."
"I have the results of your MRI scan and blood works we did earlier," the doctor continued.
"What? When? I didn't agree to that," she said, sitting up in her bed.
"While you were.. um... incapacitated earlier, after we stabilized you, Mr. Steele signed your consent papers, as he's listed as your next of keen. And seeing as you tried to commit suicide, we had to assume you were too unstable to make up your own mind regarding treatment," the doctor explained.
Bullshit. But she wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, not when she'd now decided to go down this route anyway.
"And?" she questioned.
"The scan showed that your tumors have grown rapidly___"
"Oh, God," she whispered.
"___too fast, really for your initial diagnosis," he continued.
"Initial diagnosis?" she asked.
Did that mean what she thought it did?
"The results of your blood tests confirmed this, and from the history that I've read in your file, with all the travelling you've done lately, someone should have ruled this out first."
"Oh, come out with it already!" Corey said, his hand gripping hers tighter.
She looked around the room and realised all of them seemed to be holding their breaths as well. Were they thinking what she was thinking?
"It's not cancer."
Chapter Fifteen
The air left her lungs and she clutched her heart when she heard these words. What? She didn't have cancer? How could that be? She'd seen the scans. She had these headaches, which had become worse with each day that passed.
Corey's grip on her hand loosened as he dropped into the chair he'd been sitting in before and dropped his head in his hand. He looked as shocked as she was. As did the rest of the guys. Nate had immediately rushed to Irving's side, propping him up when he staggered, looking for support. And John had dropped down to his hunches, pulling his hat off his head and gripping it tightly.
But their eyes were glued to this man, this doctor who'd said these words that none of them had expected. The words they'd all hoped to hear but never dreamt they would.
She didn't have cancer.
"What? I... I don't... I don't understand," she whispered, slowly sitting herself up on the bed.
"You have neurocysticercosis, um, tapeworm cysts," the doctor explained. "They're also known as brain worms."
"Worms?" Corey asked. "On the brain? How?"
"Well, this condition is quite common in Mexico, Central and South America and Southeast Asia, through accidental ingestion of tapeworm eggs, and I noticed on your history that over the last couple of years you've been travelling to these places a lot," the doctor explained. "Basically, you ate something poorly cooked; probably pork as pigs are known hosts of this worm, the eggs found their way through your bloodstream and lodged themselves on your brain."
"Worms?" she repeated, still trying to process this information. "But the scans... my headaches are getting worse..."
"Once the cysts mature, the most common symptom are seizures, but some patients do get terrible headaches which intensify as the cyst swell up, when they're degenerating," he explained.
"You said I had cancer... I almost..."
Oh, God. She'd almost killed herself over worms?
"Unfortunately, this is quite a common mistake with the initial scans," the doctor said regrettably. "Only further monitoring and tests can rule this out, as we've done now."
Fucking worms? She'd almost killed herself over worms? The fuck...?
"You said the cysts are degenerating," Irving said, speaking for the first time. "What does that mean? Is it dangerous?"
"Well, the cysts are full of thick cystic fluid in a thickened capsule, and antigens are leaking from it. This causes the tissue around the cyst to swell up, and this is what is causing Miss. Taylor's headaches. There's a chance that the cysts will just calcify, and the swelling will go down as the eggs die."
"But?" Nate asked, frowning as he walked to stand on the other side of Rae's bed.
"Based on the number, location, and viability of the parasites within Miss Taylor's nervous system, there is a risk that the cysts will burst, releasing the worms and obstructing the blood flow. This could be potentially fatal."
She sucked in a breath. Son of a... Why dangle a bone in her face only to yank it away again?
"So what do we do?" she asked. "What are my options?"
"There are anti-parasitic drugs that you could take to reduce the swelling and kill the eggs, but there is a very high chance of recurrence. Because of this, and of the location of the cysts, I suggest surgery immediately after the drugs, via endoscopy. It's less invasive, therefore less risky. 100% removal is hard to attain, but we are very confident that with the technology we have available to us, we can achieve this."
"That's it?"
"Basically, yeah," the doctor said. "But we need to start treatment now. The tests showed that we don't have very much time before the eggs burst."
He was still struggling to believe it was true, to believe he wasn't going to lose her. The moment the doctor had said those words, the pain he'd carried in his chest since that horrible night she had told her she was dying had immediately disappeared to be replaced by this deep gratitude to whichever God had given her back to him.
But now the gratitude was mixed with something else.
She'd been on the drugs for a week at the hospital, and Nate had been there right next to her more often than not. A full week in which Nate had lay by her in bed whenever he was there, whispering nonsense to her and laughing with her, painting her, making her happy...
That prick was seriously doing his head in!
Everyone was relieved, everyone was grateful Rae wasn't going to die. He got that, he really did. Hell, he was probably more grateful than most. But he'd hardly had a look in all week. There were people falling out of every crevice of the hospital room, dying to do things for her, things he should have been doing. He didn't want to sound like an ungrateful bastard, but he just wanted a minute alone with her, just a minute to show her how grateful he was that he would get to hold her in his arms longer than they'd all thought.
If she let him. If she wanted him.
John had told him over and over again that he was just imagining things, that Rae would never have told her she loved him if she didn't mean it. But that was just how it was. She had given him no sign at all that she hadn't only said those words because they'd thought she was dying.
"Hey, we've been looking for you."
He took a final pull of his smoke and turned to face John as he flicked the butt into the bushes.
"What's up?"
"Your mom wants to know if you going to hers to eat something," John said as he stopped in front of him.
"I'm not really hungry," he answered as he lit another smoke and turned back to his view of the sunset.
The hospital grounds had been his sanctuary a lot the past few days. He just wished he could sit out there with a case of beers by his side and get plastered, but he was afraid he'd just storm up to her room and beg her to pretend to love him again.
"Is that because Nate just got here?" John asked.
He paused briefly mid-smoke at the mention of that name, but he knew John noticed that.
"He's Rae's friend. Why would having him here spoil my appetite?" he asked.
"Then you don't mind that he's asked to stay over at yours tonight?"
He bit down on his teeth to stop himself from saying anything.
"We've got no more spare rooms."
Well, that was true. Irving and Sara had one room. John still had his usual room, which he was sharing with Mandy at that moment even though they were still trying to see if they could work things out. He wasn't going to let him have Rae's bed, which was all made up ready for her to come home. And he certainly wasn't giving his bed up to the shit.
"We've got a few comfortable couches."
Well, he couldn't really argue with that. And the last thing he wanted to do was stand in the way of Rae's happiness. If she wanted the guy there, she could have him there. Who was he to stand in the way of true love? He was just grateful that she would live; he would be happy if she chose to be with someone else, as long as she was alive and happy.
He just wished it didn't hurt so bad.
"Rae's been asking about you," John continued, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he also looked out at the beautiful view.
He liked this time of day, when the sun's orange glow kissed every surface, even the ugly ones, giving it a mask of beauty that didn't really exist otherwise. There was not much beautiful out there anymore. It was just an endless sea of selfishness and cruelty; he knew that only too well.
"She wondering how I'm holding up?" he asked with a little laugh at himself.
Was she wondering how bad he was going to hurt
once she told him the truth?
"Yes, actually. From where she's standing, it looks like you actually wanted her to die."
"Don't be stupid!" he snapped. "I'm just giving her a bit of space to get her head around all this. And it's not like we can have any decent conversations with all those people coming in and out of her room."
"She hasn't really seen you in days."
"I sleep on her bed!"
"You crawl into her bed when you know she's fast asleep and leave the hospital before she wakes up," John pointed out calmly.
Because the last thing he wanted was to give her a chance to admit that she lied to him about how she felt. It would break him.
"John, you more than anyone know how I cried with relief when we heard that news. I had the worst time of my life, thinking I'd never get to grow old with her, that she'd never get to have my kids, that I'd never get to hold her again..."
"And now that we know she'll be fine, shouldn't you be stuck to her, showing her just how grateful you are?"
"She knows. Trust me, she knows."
"Has it occurred to you that she's probably thinking the same way you are? That she might think you told her all those things because you thought you were going to lose her, but now you're regretting it?"
"She knows I'd never treat her like that," he frowned.
"Does she?"
"Yes! Besides, it's not like we've had much of a chance to talk with Nate all up in her hospital room like he's moved in. Doesn't he have to be at work or something?"
John had nothing to say to that. He guessed his friend was just tired of pointing out the errors of his thinking.
She doesn't love Nate... They're just friends... Well, if she didn't love Nate, then why the hell was he slowly but so damn surely taking his place in her life?
"Go in and talk to her," John said finally. "It would be a shame if you threw all this away a second time. And I don't think you'd get over her that easily this time round."