For Now (Broken Promises #1)

by M Dauphin

  “I love you. You’re fighting this and you’re going to get through it. I believe in you.”

  Good thing she does. I’m starting to not believe in myself.

  “I love you too,” I manage through an incredibly sore throat. “I’m so weak, babe. Let’s go back to bed.”

  Weak, tired, nauseous.

  She smiles and silently helps me back to bed, tucking the covers on my side before crawling in on the other side of the bed. She gives me my space, probably thinking that’s what I want, which I do, but I always need to touch her. She grounds me. She makes me feel normal, and everything else I’m feeling right now is anything BUT normal. I need a constant, and that constant is her.

  My Al.

  “Come here,” I whisper, reaching for her arm in the dark. The bed shifts as she moves over to me, just enough to make my stomach roll again. “Nooo,” I groan, rolling to the other side of the bed and trying to get out before vomiting all over. Barely making it to the bathroom before I start dry heaving, there’s nothing left in me but acid and it burns so fucking bad, but I can’t stop.

  “Goddammit,” I mutter, cleaning my face off and splashing some cold water on my arms.

  “It’s ok, baby,” she whispers from the doorway.

  “I fucking hate this.”

  “I know.”

  “You don’t need to see all of this, Alexis,” I whisper with a raw throat as she wraps me into a hug.

  “I don’t need to. I know that… I want to, Lane. I love you. I’m not leaving you.”

  I grumble something about how stubborn she is and she laughs, then we finally head to bed and sleep the rest of the night. Well, she does. Every time I close my eyes the room starts to feel like it’s spinning and I feel like I’m going to vomit… so she sleeps... I lay here, my hand caressing her arm as I think about what I’m going to do with this new life of mine.

  I feel like my mood and thoughts have been everywhere lately. I’m sure that’s pretty normal for someone in my situation, but I hate it. One minute I don’t want help, I don’t want to get better, I just want it to all be over… and the next minute I’m trying to fight it and lead as normal a life as I can. I can’t decide if I want help or not. I can’t decide if I am going back for the next treatment or not.

  The only thing I can truly say I’m positive about anymore is the fact that I want Alexis. I want her for the rest of my life… whether that’s just a few months or years. She’s the only constant I’m positive, with one hundred percent certainty, that I want. That I know exactly what I want and my mind never waivers.

  By morning I’ve probably slept all of an hour total. I just can’t find it in me to sleep. My body is fucking tired as hell, but I feel like shit and can’t close my damn eyes. Alexis starts to stir right as the sun starts to rise and she turns to me, hair mussed from sleep and makeup smudged under her eyes. Even in the morning after a long and rough night she still looks beautiful. Not many girls can pull this off. I’ve been with plenty that don’t take their makeup off before bed and look like a raccoon on coke the next morning. Not my Alexis. My Alexis looks like she was just freshly fucked, which is insanely sexy.

  It’s too fucking bad I feel like I’m going to vomit or else I’d take care of her this morning.

  “Hey you,” she says, sleepy voice still present as she smiles up at me.

  “Hi,” I whisper, pecking a small kiss on her forehead. I need to brush my fucking teeth but she fell asleep on my arm last night and I didn’t want to move.

  “How’d you sleep?” she asks, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She’s so goddamned cute and sexy, and I wasn’t even sure that was possible.

  “Like shit,” I chuckle. “You?”

  “Pretty good. I had a dream you and I had a mansion in Maine. So fucking weird.” She laughs and lays on her back, staring up at the ceiling. “Aren’t dreams nuts? Like… you can sleep for a couple hours and your dream feels like it can last for days and days. It’s insane.”

  “I like that you’re dreaming about us,” I say, smiling. “It’s cute.”

  And it is. It’s sad as fuck, because she’s dreaming of a future that we may never get, but it’s still cute.

  “Yea,” she says, making a sarcastic face before sitting up in bed. “I’m gonna shower, ok? Then we can grab food and see what’s on the agenda for today.”

  She leans in and kisses me quickly then is off the bed and out of the room as fast as she can move.

  Alexis

  “Idiot,” I whisper to myself after I turn the shower on.

  I’m not certain why I told him about that dream. It was stupid of me to tell him that, because he’s probably thinking the same thing I’m thinking: ‘never going to happen’. I need to stop feeding him those thoughts of a future because he’s sick and he might not have a future. I don’t need to keep reminding him of that.

  I turn the water on to as hot as I can take it and step in, letting the steam billow around me, I try to wash off the hospital feel, the sickness, the dirt… but most of all, I’m trying to wash away the sadness. The tears streaming down my face for the man I love hurt my entire body. It hurts to listen to the one you love get sick over and over and not even have it in them to get themselves off the bathroom floor. It hurts to know he’s lying beside you wide awake, unable to go to sleep, when you pass out for the night. It hurts me to not be able to take the pain away for him.

  I’m not delusional. I know that I can’t actually take his pain away. It just sucks so fucking bad. So I let the tears free fall as I wash off the memories from yesterday. Today’s a new day, and I have to get out the tears before leaving this room.

  I give myself a few minutes to stop and compose myself, then get out of the shower, take a big breath, pull up my big girl panties yet again, and get ready for a day of hopefully normal shit and not more pain and puking. No-one ever said cancer was glamorous. It’s not nice, it’s not fun, and it’s not pretty. It’s ugly, for everyone involved.

  By the time I’m out of the bathroom the bedroom is empty and Lane’s in the kitchen making coffee.

  “I’m not really feeling any right now but I know how much you need it in the morning,” he says, smiling at me. Even sick he’s cute as hell with his low riding sweat pants and no t-shirt. I can’t decide if I want to run over and hug the sad out of him or run my hands down his perfectly sculpted abs. I still am in awe of his body, no matter how many times I’ve rubbed it down with oil.

  “I see that look, Al. You can’t fool me,” he says. Grinning he walks over to me with a cup of coffee and lifts my chin with his finger. “Love you. But I need to get cleaned up and I’m still feeling like a piece of roadkill from last night. Keep that look until later and I’ll make sure to do something about it.”

  “That a promise?” I bite my lip and laugh as he sighs and shakes his head.

  “Damn woman,” he grunts, walking straight to the bathroom and not looking back before shutting the door behind him.

  At least he’s up and walking today. It’s already a better day today than last night was. It’s already looking up if he’s moving around, making coffee, and taking a shower already. We can do this. We can kick this disease’s ass.

  My phone dings as soon as I sit on the couch and I curse it. Why’s it always have to wait until I’m comfortable? Hopping up and jogging into the bedroom, I grab it to find a text from Braydon, which makes me smile. I know yesterday he was a jerk, but he’s trying.

  Bray:Breakfast? I’m making bacon and eggs

  Oh God, food sounds fantastic. If I stay here any longer I’m going to have to go to the grocery store, because I swear Lane never eats at home. A gallon of milk, one egg, and some old cheese is about it for his refrigerator.

  I knock on the bathroom door, letting Lane know what’s going on.

  “Come in,” he announces. Grinning, I slip into the steamy bathroom and the sight before me makes my mouth water.

  His shower door is glass. Pure, clear glass… and eve
ry ridge of muscle on Lane’s body is moving as he rinses the soap out of his hair.

  God, he’s so good looking.

  “Hey, I’m heading upstairs for breakfast. You should come up when you’re done.” My eyes trail a water droplet that’s making its way down his back and over his perfect ass.

  “I’m not really hungry, babe.” He turns and, as he’s giving me a grin, he starts to wash his front. The soapy bubbles, the water droplets, the fucking muscles. “Go on up, maybe I can get some rest.” He’s full on grinning now, knowing exactly how wet he’s making me, but I don’t give in. He needs rest, and just a few minutes ago he told me how bad he felt. He needs rest. I need to get out of here before I jump him.

  “I’m bringing you back something and you will eat it, Lane.” I say, trying to find my stern voice but not able to stop myself from smiling as he starts washing his bits. “Screw you,” I laugh, leaving the bathroom before I rip my clothes off.

  “Love you!” he yells as I shut the door.

  “Love you too!”

  Food time!

  Opening the door to Braydon’s apartment I cringe at the mess. Lane is a pretty neat guy. He likes things in their spot and he has a house keeper that keeps his things in order, dusted, and floors clean. Braydon could afford a house keeper but he’s said on many occasions that he doesn’t trust them not to steal his shit.

  Well… he definitely should gain more trust… because this place looks like a college kids dorm.

  “Hey!” I say, walking into the kitchen as he cooks bacon without his shirt on. “You’re going to regret that.” I laugh at him, praying it splatters up on his smug ass.

  His hot, built, tattooed… smug... cocky… chest.

  Fuck, Lane. He just had to get me worked up like that. Shit.

  “Nah, never happens to me. I hate clothes, you should know this by now.” He smiles and tosses me an orange. “Here, peel this.”

  I shake my head, never a guest in his place but more like a roommate that doesn’t live here. That’s what I like about these boys; I never feel unwelcome when around them. I’ve always felt comfortable and at home with both of them. They are so different in most ways, but both of them care for their friends.

  Hard.

  “Smells fantastic,” I say, making sure all the white part of the orange is peeled off and thrown away before aligning them on a plate to look like a smiley face. Grinning I slide it over to him and he laughs.

  “Nice.”

  “I thought so,” I say, grabbing a freshly finished piece of bacon.

  “How was the night last night?” He asks, grabbing a cup of coffee and taking mine to refill.

  “Meh,” I say, shrugging. “Fine.”

  “Hmm..” he hums.

  “What?”

  “Sounded more than fine after I left.” He’s trying his hardest to say it with a straight face, but the minute I realize what he’s talking about I feel the fire come to my cheeks.

  I don’t talk to these boys about my sex life. Never have, and really now that I’m sitting here, him grinning over his cup of coffee at me, it feels just…. weird.

  “Oh yea?” I ask, sipping my way too hot coffee just so he doesn’t see the smirk playing on my lips, remembering how well fucked I was when I fell asleep last night.

  “Yep. Nice and loud. He lasted longer than I figured he would. Must have been worth it…” The grin on his face makes him way more attractive than he needs to be right now.

  “Oh fuck you!” I laugh.

  “You guys were so fucking loud! I mean... I’m happy for you two... but seriously, Al! I don’t want to hear that when I’m all alone up here. At least find me a chick or something to do while you two are going at it.”

  “Jesus, Bray, you’re so crude.”

  “Didn’t sound like you minded crude last night.” He raises an eyebrow and I throw an orange piece at him.

  “Jerk,” I say, grinning. I really probably should work on not being so loud, but last night was just too damn good.

  “Nah… you know I’m kidding around with you. I’m happy for you two.” He smiles and nods, lifting his coffee cup to hip lips. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  “Lane has some shoots we can show up to if he’s feeling good enough. Nothing pressing, nothing too hard, but I’m leaving it up to him.”

  “You’re good for him, you know that, Al?”

  “Fuck yes I am,” I say, grabbing the bacon off his plate and shoving it in my mouth as he fills our plates with eggs and cheese.

  “And you’re so inappropriate,” he grumbles about his bacon but doesn’t bitch about it to me directly. He knows better. I’d kill for bacon. Especially turkey bacon.

  “Whelp. This was amazing. I’m taking a plate down for Lane.” Grabbing a fork, I scoop some of Braydon’s food from his mile-high pile on his plate and he grumbles again. Grinning, I slap him on the shoulder, thank him for a good game, then like the boss that I feel like, take my happy, fed ass back downstairs.

  He’s right. I’m feeling incredibly inappropriate. Let’s hope Lane’s well rested. I feel like being completely inappropriate with him right now.

  “Oh, Lane! I have FOOD!” I’m in a great mood, today’s looking great, the sun is shining, and I’m ready to have a fantastic day after having fantastic sex. Cheery and happy and giddy… until I see him on the floor.

  The fucking floor.

  “Lane!” Rushing to his side, I notice his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s clutching his stomach.

  He groans when I try to sit him up, shaking his head. “Just… stop.” His voice is so pained I almost burst out in tears right then and there. With shaking hands, I grab my phone and text Braydon. I can’t help Lane if he needs to be carried. I can’t… I can’t help him right now.

  Oh my God.

  “Hey,” he whispers, then reaches his hand out. Taking it, I grasp on to it tightly, not letting him see the shaking of my hands.

  “It’s ok, baby. I’m here. It’s ok. Oh my God what happened, Lane?” I let a sob sneak out and feel Braydon’s hand on my shoulder. “You made it down here fast.” I sniffle, not letting go of Lane’s hand.

  By now he’s not holding on to his stomach as much and Braydon’s able to help him up while I collect myself. What the hell was that? Does that happen often? What happened?

  God, I have so many questions but I can’t bombard him with questions right now.

  “There ya go,” Braydon says as he helps Lane into a chair. “What happened, dude?”

  Lane huffs and shakes his head, looking at me with pure sadness in his eyes then switching his gaze to Braydon. Something clicks in Braydon’s demeanor and he looks over at me and nods towards the door.

  “Hey, Al.. can you uh… can you give us a second?”

  “Excuse me?” I bite out, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “I asked if you could give us just one minute. That’s all.” He’s getting irritated, but so am I.

  “I’m his girlfriend,” I hiss as Braydon ushers me to the kitchen and out of Lane’s sight. “I have just as much right to be here as you do.” I whisper so Lane doesn’t hear us, but I’m seriously about to punch Braydon.

  “Jesus Christ, Al. Just… one fucking minute. That man out there is hurting, and men don’t like for the woman they love to see them like that,” Braydon growls, his eyes not leaving mine. The expression of worry lacing his features. “Just give us a minute.”

  “He knows me better to know that I don’t care how he looks. I love him, Braydon. I’m not judging him for things out of his control.”

  “Jesus, Al! Give me a minute to talk to my best friend. Go out to the fucking hall or something, but I need to talk to him without you in the room!” He boasts, standing taller than ever. “I know you two are so in love it’s puke inducing, but you haven’t left his side and I need time to talk to him. No girlfriends present. So please, just for now, give us a moment.”

  Well then.

  “One minute,” I whisper. “T
hat’s all you get. I need to be in there with him.” My narrowed eyes mean business. I’m not leaving Lane’s side. I promised that and I stick to my promises.

  He sighs and nods, walking back to the living room, leaving me in the kitchen staring at the floor. I could be stubborn and go in there, but I’m not that girl. I’m going to respect his wishes. So I walk out. I’ll give him space. And I sit on the other side of the door, listening to the conversation between the two boys in my life I love most.

  “You gotta start opening up, man. What the hell was that?” Braydon’s voice is rough and raw, but forceful. “You didn’t see her face. She’s trying, but if you’re going to block her out at times and let her in at times, it’s best just to let her go. You can’t keep doing this to her.”

  He’s… he’s protecting me?

  “I know,” Lane huffs. “I love her, man. I love her more than life itself, but I can’t… fuck, dude… I can’t look that weak in front of her.”

  Weak? He thinks he looks weak in front of me?

  “She doesn’t see you as weak, and you know it, Lane. You’ve got the best fucking girl in the universe and you’re going to push her away with this behavior.”

  “I know… I just need to get over it.”

  “What the fuck happened today? We need to get you to the hospital, dude?”

  “No. It’s fine. I just overdid it I guess. Just another one of the pains.”

  I hear Braydon sigh and groan. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it? They’re happening more often, aren’t they?”

  “It’s fine,” Lane says.

  Fine. I hate that term. That’s Lane’s term for ‘things are going to hell but I don’t want help’.

  I can’t hear Braydon’s response, but soon the door is opening and he shakes his head at me.

  “Come on.” He rolls his eyes.

  “Thanks, asshole,” I quip, punching him.

  I love Lane. I don’t see him as weak. I can’t. He’s so damn strong.

  And I plan on spending all my time telling him that.