The Christmas Wedding Ring (Hqn)

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The Christmas Wedding Ring (Hqn) Page 13

by Susan Mallery


  She looked at him, at his familiar face. They’d both changed, yet it felt as if she’d always known him. The crush was still there. A little different because she was different, but just as powerful as ever.

  Then she knew. It was time to tell him the truth. Not only because he deserved to know why she was acting so crazy, but also because she needed him. Selfishly, she knew there would come a time when his strength might be all that kept her going. Even if just for another minute. Until their time was up. After that, she would find another way to be strong.

  “I liked it,” she said, urging him to sit on the bed. He settled next to her, close enough for her to feel the heat of him. “Maybe too much.”

  “Molly?” Questions darkened his eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “That wasn’t a hint,” she said. “Okay, I’ll admit it might have been a little one, but don’t act on it. I’m trying to distract myself, but it’s not working.”

  Oh, this was so hard. Telling Janet had been tough, but this was worse. Probably because she didn’t know how he was going to react. Would he recoil? She braced herself for that or worse. If he couldn’t handle it, then she would deal with it on her own. The past couple of weeks had taught her she was strong, too.

  “You’re confusing me,” he said. “And scaring me. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything.” She released his hand so he would be free to leave if he wanted to. She drew in a deep breath. “I did like what we were doing on the beach. I liked the kissing and touching, but froze because you touched my breast.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.”

  He studied her face. She could read the questions there.

  He swore. “Did someone attack you?”

  “No. Do you remember when you asked me why I’d run away from my life and I told you about that bad week?”

  He nodded.

  “There was more to it.” She found it easier to talk now. She didn’t have to think about the words; they just came on their own. She focused on his perfect face and made her mind blank.

  “The Monday before Thanksgiving, I lost my job and on Tuesday Grant called me from Mexico. On Wednesday morning, while I was in the shower, I found a lump in my left breast.”

  Chapter Nine

  She was shaking, but not so much that she couldn’t talk. Molly drew in a breath. There, she’d said it. So far Dylan hadn’t run, but that was probably because he was still in shock.

  “I was doing my monthly breast self-exam,” she said. “I do them regularly. When I first started doing them I was scared because I didn’t want to find anything. I know that sounds weird, because if I’m checking, then I’m sort of accepting the fact that there could be a lump. But after a few months, it’s like you forget.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m getting off the point.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “Tell the story however you see fit.”

  When she’d first come in the bedroom, she’d clicked on the lamp on her nightstand. The light spilled across most of the bed and the floor, but much of Dylan was in shadow, including his face. She was having trouble reading his expression, but part of that could be because she didn’t really want to know what he was thinking. She’d done a lot of reading on the subject and she knew that many men couldn’t handle the thought of a woman in their lives being sick. She braced herself for that kind of reaction.

  “I was moving my fingers around my breast when I felt something,” she said. She had to will herself to stay calm. Just talking about it brought the fear back. She remembered the horror that had filled her when she’d found the lump. She’d been so scared she’d thought she was going to throw up. Even now it was difficult not to curl up in a ball and give in to the panic.

  “I called my doctor and they got me in that day. She examined me. At first she thought it might be a cyst.” She looked at him expectantly.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “It’s generally harmless. Cysts grow in the breast. They’re sacs that fill up with fluid. They’re painful, but not a big problem. Usually the doctor can use a needle to aspirate them—you know, remove the fluid. But my lump wasn’t a cyst. There wasn’t any fluid. The next step was a mammogram.”

  She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to remember the cold terror of that day or the pressure of the mammography equipment pressing down on her. She’d cried during the procedure. Not because it hurt but because she was so afraid and so alone.

  “Afterward my doctor still wasn’t sure, so she suggested a procedure to remove the lump, but they couldn’t schedule it until after the long weekend. It would be examined right then and she would let me know what it was. That was scheduled for Tuesday, the week after Thanksgiving.”

  Molly wrapped her arms around her chest and tried to force a smile. She didn’t know how it looked, but she had a feeling it failed completely. She wanted to run away. Leave behind all the fear and the questions. The problem was, there wasn’t anywhere else to go. She had run away and the problem had come with her. There was nothing to do but endure.

  “What did they find?” he asked.

  “They’re not sure. The cells were atypical. I think it’s a fancy way of saying they don’t know what they’ve got. My doctor sent it out to a lab for analysis. The day I decided to come looking for you, her office had called. They’d heard back from the first lab, but they were sending the sample out again. They wanted a second opinion.”

  She’d been doing so well explaining all this to him that the tears were unexpected. She caught her breath as they burned her eyes. Then a single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

  “The d-doctor says it’s just quality control,” she continued, her voice thickening. “That she wants to be sure and not to worry. But I can’t help it. I keep thinking that it’s so horrible they’re insisting on a second opinion. She’s told me to be patient, to try to fill my days with things that can help me forget, but it’s h-hard.”

  More tears. They were falling faster now.

  “That’s why I check my messages every night. The doctor is going to let me know when she gets the results back from th-the lab. I’m waiting to hear about the lump. The problem is, they’re short-staffed because of the holidays. They said everything takes longer this time of year.”

  She couldn’t look at Dylan. She didn’t want to know what he was thinking. Was he horrified? Probably. Even as she tried to get control of herself and tell herself everything was fine, she waited to feel the bed shift as he stood up.

  The preparation didn’t help. When the mattress moved, she thought she was going to throw up. Then two warm, strong arms enveloped her, pulling her her to feet where he craddled her in his arms. The comfort was so unexpected, so wonderful, she lost it completely and started to sob.

  Dylan held Molly tightly against his chest. Not knowing what else to do, he kept quiet, letting her deal with her pain in her own way. For himself, he didn’t know what he felt. Shock, certainly. Actually, stunned was more like it. He couldn’t remember all that he’d imagined when she’d disappeared each evening to make her phone call. He’d wondered if she was checking for a message from Grant, or maybe to hear about a job interview. He’d never thought it could be something like this.

  He knew about breast cancer, but he didn’t know it could be a danger for someone her age.

  He rested his cheek against her hair. “Molly,” he murmured. “Sweet Molly. I can’t believe all you’ve had to deal with. No wonder you wanted to run away.”

  “It’s hard sometimes,” she said, her words muffled against his chest. “Janet has been really supportive. After I told her about the lump, she wanted to come down when they took it out. But she’s got her daughters and Thomas. Then she wanted me to come
up and stay with her. She promised the girls would be a huge distraction. I think that if you hadn’t been willing to come away with me, I would have gone there, but I really didn’t want to be moping around, ruining their holiday season, having their mom burst into tears every time she looked at me.”

  She raised her head. There were tears on her face and her eyes were red. He didn’t care. She was beautiful.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for not running off or backing away. Whatever it is, it’s not contagious.”

  He wiped away her tears. “It never occurred to me it was. I’m not afraid of you. I’m—” He shrugged. “Taking it all in, I guess.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have dumped this on you.”

  “No. Don’t say that. We’re friends, and friends share information with each other.”

  She nodded, then pressed her face into his chest once more. He stroked her hair and her back. He understood her fear that he would run. Actually, the thought had never occurred to him. He didn’t think an 8.5 earthquake would have been enough to dislodge him from the room. Even now, he was too shocked to do anything but hold her.

  He swore silently. Talk about having to deal with a difficult situation. If nothing else, hearing about Molly’s life certainly put his petty problems in perspective. All this time he’d been worried about whether to sell his company, while she was wrestling with a potentially life-threatening situation.

  A cold knot formed in his stomach as he repeated his last thought. Two words stood out. Life-threatening. Panic seized him.

  Molly could die.

  He resisted the need to squeeze her tighter in his arms, as if holding her closer would keep her safe. Dear God, he didn’t want to lose her. Not now, not when he’d just found her. Not ever. Molly was special, one of the good guys. She didn’t deserve this.

  He grimaced as he realized no one deserved it.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar. You just stiffened up. If you need to walk away from me, I’ll understand.”

  “No way, kid. You’re stuck with me.” He brushed his cheek against her hair and inhaled the sweet scent of her body. “I was just thinking that it’s not fair.”

  “You’ve got to let that one go,” she told him. “I’ve been over it and over it and there’s no good answer. You’re right. It’s not fair. So what?”

  She sounded strong and sure of herself.

  “I’m a guy,” he said. “I want to fix it.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I know.”

  That was the hell of it. He did know.

  “Don’t make yourself crazy, Dylan,” she said. “That’s not why I told you. I just wanted you to understand the situation. Considering everything, I’m doing really well. This time with you has been terrific for me. I’ve actually been able to forget and just have fun. I needed that.”

  “You’ve handled everything very well. I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. I’m putting one foot in front of the other. There’s no courage in that.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  She chuckled. “Your favorite words.”

  “I have other words I like just as much.”

  “I don’t think so.” She smiled up at him. There were still tears on her face, but the pain and darkness had faded from her eyes. He hugged her and she hugged him back.

  He liked the feel of her arms around his waist. Her hands rubbed against his back. Of course he still wanted her. His arousal pressed painfully against his jeans. But that didn’t matter anymore. He would never do anything to hurt her or...

  He grabbed her arms and pushed her away so that he could look at her. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, suddenly frantic. She’d had a lump removed. Isn’t that what she’d said? That meant surgery. Even if it was an outpatient procedure, they’d cut her. “When I touched your breast, did I rub against the incision? Is that why you ran off?”

  Color stained her cheeks, but she didn’t turn away. “No. You touched my right breast and the lump was in the other one.”

  He sagged with relief. “Jeez, Molly, I was afraid I’d grabbed you there.” He winced at the thought.

  “No. Don’t do that.” She shrugged off his grip, then took his hands in hers. “Don’t treat me like I’m going to break. I couldn’t stand that. Yes, I’m a little sore and bruised, but it’s no big deal. Don’t treat me any differently. Please. That’s the whole point of coming away—to forget. You need to promise me that nothing will be different. I told you only because of how I acted.”

  How could he make that promise? Of course it was going to be different. He knew that her life might be in danger. He wanted to find a way to protect her or even heal her. Neither option was available to him and he didn’t know how he was supposed to survive that.

  Then he got it. This wasn’t about him at all; it was about Molly. Her feelings were what mattered. She’d spent the past couple of weeks living with a fear he couldn’t begin to imagine. If she needed him to treat her the way he always had, then he would find a way to do that. It was the least he could do for her.

  “Promise,” he said, and made an X over his heart.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  She sat on the bed and patted the space next to her. He settled next to her and shifted so that he drew her down next him. She lay with him, her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his chest. He stroked her hair.

  There was a comfortable silence between them. Dylan continued to think about all that she’d told him and tried to absorb the information. It was still impossible to believe. Molly? His Molly? He hated that she’d gone through all of it alone.

  “You should have called Janet to be with you,” he said. “She’s your sister. She cares.”

  “I know. I didn’t want to be a bother.”

  Translation: she didn’t think she was worth it. He recognized the feeling because he felt the same way about himself. It was fine for someone like him, but Molly deserved more.

  “You couldn’t be a bother,” he said. “You’re very special.”

  She groaned. “Don’t get weird on me. You promised not to treat me differently.”

  “I thought you were special yesterday. I just didn’t get around to telling you.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that.”

  He rolled toward her and touched her face. “You are the proud owner of that problem, not me. I wouldn’t lie to you. I think you’re very special.” He traced a line from her forehead to her nose, then down to her mouth. “I’m glad you told me. I will try very hard not to treat you any differently. We’ll continue to have fun together so you’re distracted. Agreed?”

  She nodded. A single tear spilled out of her eye.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing. You’re just being so sweet to me.”

  “I know it’s after the fact, but I’m here. You’re not alone anymore.”

  “I know. That feels very nice. Thank you.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. He waited, but she didn’t deepen the kiss. Despite everything, he still wanted her. The passion still burned inside, but it was different now. The heat was tempered with tenderness. While that didn’t take away the wanting, it changed it into something even more powerful. He had a fierce desire to bring her pleasure, to wipe out all the bad memories. He couldn’t fix her, but he would very much like to help her forget.

  She cuddled against him. After a while, her breathing deepened and he realized she’d fallen asleep. Moving slowly so as not to awaken her, he stretched up and turned out the light. He wasn’t sure if he was going to sleep tonight, but that didn’t matter. He only wanted to be here, in Molly’s bed, with her in his arms.

  He didn’t understand
all that he was feeling. Of course he was scared for her, and maybe a little for himself. Molly wasn’t model perfect or even his type, yet he couldn’t imagine spending this time with anyone else.

  He was going to miss her come Christmas, when they parted ways. Strange. He’d been alone nearly every Christmas as an adult, and he’d never minded it before. He’d preferred it, in fact. But he could see the appeal of Christmas Eve with Molly, in front of a cozy fire. And waking up on Christmas morning with his arms around her.

  She was incredibly lovely. Not just in her physical appearance, which he had been slow to recognize, but she was filled with an inner beauty—part courage, part acceptance. Part determination to go on, no matter what. In three short days, life had dealt her some hard blows. A lesser person might have caved under even one of them. But Molly was determined to continue on. He was proud to know her.

  He closed his eyes against the darkness and concentrated on the sound of her steady breathing. He was so afraid of losing her. The world in general and his life in particular would be smaller and meaner without her bright smile and gentle spirit.

  The truth hit him with all the subtlety of a blow from a baseball bat. Somehow in the past week and a half, she’d gotten under his skin. He’d let her inside, and now there was no way to force her out. It was too late to not care.

  * * *

  Molly woke up slowly. Her body clock told her it was sometime in the middle of the night. At first she wasn’t sure where she was. The shadows in the room were familiar, but her mind wouldn’t focus on them. Then she realized the reason for her confusion. There was a man in her bed. The heat of Dylan’s body kept her warm, despite the fact that she was on top of the covers instead of underneath. She was curled up against him, her legs between his, his chin resting on her head. She didn’t remember going to sleep, but she did recall the details of their conversation. How he’d listened to her talk about finding the lump. The sadness and concern on his face. And, most important of all, the way he’d held her.

 

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