Every Day (The Brush Of Love Series, #2)

by Lexy Timms

  “Should I call an ambulance to get her there?” the doctor asked.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I got myself here. I can get myself there.”

  “Well, can you walk and follow me? I want to take some blood samples and get them running. It’ll be one less thing the hospital has to be responsible for.”

  I felt myself being levitated by my wobbling legs as my eyes lobbed closed. This migraine had rid me of all the energy I had waking up this morning., and now I was cursing myself for not bringing Bryan. I was so tired, in fact, that the prick of the needle didn’t even startle me. I curled into myself, wishing Bryan was here to hold me close, and I took deep breaths to steady my growing nerves.

  All I wanted to do was go back to his house and lie down in bed with him.

  All I wanted to do was move my things in and create a home with him.

  I rushed over to the hospital, and they took me back immediately. It was concerning, to say the least, but Bryan seemed pleased. He asked me if I wanted him to be there, and I told him to just have dinner ready, that I was coming in hungry and would want to gorge myself on all his tasty food.

  He seemed pleased with that answer while the nurses set IVs.

  They put me up in one of their emergency hospital rooms with the curtains that blocked out the sound, and I fell in and out of sleep while I was there. I’d wake up when they were moving me for another scan or another test, but other than that, I took the time to sleep. But even though the doctor had promised me medication for my migraine, I still hadn’t felt the pinprick of a needle delivering my relief to me.

  “When can I go home?” I asked the nurse.

  “Soon,” she said. “I promise.”

  It felt like I had been there all day. Bryan was texting me for updates, and all I was telling him was that the tests were coming up negative. In truth, I had no idea what all these tests and scans were saying, but I wanted him calm.

  One of us had to be calm since I was shaking with nerves.

  Just when I thought my migraine was dying down, another one kicked up. That had never happened before, and I rolled over and started crying as the nurse came in to check on me.

  “Hailey. What’s wrong? What do you need?”

  “Help,” I said, sobbing. “I need help. Please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  I heard her barrel into the hallway before he started yelling for a doctor. I didn’t know how long I’d been here, and I had no idea what was going on, but I finally knew what I wanted. I wanted someone to shoot my body up with morphine, so my head no longer felt like it was splitting into fourths. Then, I wanted to go home and eat.

  “All right, Miss Ryan. The doctor’s about to come down with your test results. I’m going to give you a shot in your upper arm, and within a couple of minutes, you should feel some sort of relief.”

  I felt the cool alcohol swab against my skin before the prick of the needle, and I sighed with relief as my eyes fluttered closed.

  “Can you give me any inclination as to what’s going on?” I asked.

  And then, the nurse said something that shivered me to my bones.

  “You’re going to want to wait until the doctor gets here.”

  I felt my body tense up completely, and for the first time in my life, I was truly petrified. Not scared. Not anxious. Not even nervous. But sickeningly petrified. Even when those thugs had ripped me out of bed by my neck when I was still in L.A., I hadn’t been as scared as I was at that moment.

  I felt my nausea wave back through my body as the doctor’s voice came booming at my side.

  “Miss Ryan, can you open your eyes for me?” he asked.

  I shook my head no, hoping he would just leave it at that.

  “All right. My name’s Doctor Osmunt. I’ve been overseeing your testing today. How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Like shit,” I said.

  “All right.”

  I heard him wheel up a chair and sit down beside me, and even though I couldn’t open my eyes, I felt a somber mood hit the room. My body was tightening, and my stomach was roaring with something akin to a sickening despair, rendering my body lifeless as tears prickled the backs of my eyes. I shook my head and chuckled, trying to lighten the mood of the room with the fake happiness I tried to pour into it.

  But the doctor didn’t respond. He only reached out and took my hand in his.

  I’d watched enough movies in my lifetime to know that was never a good sign.

  “Miss Ryan, how frequently have you been having these migraines?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. A few weeks now, I guess. Maybe three months?”

  “Have they varied in intensity?” he asked.

  “Yes. They weren’t too bad in the beginning, but the one this morning practically took me by surprise,” I said, giggling.

  And still, the doctor didn’t giggle along with me.

  “Miss Ryan, my specialty here at the hospital is oncology,” he said.

  I felt my blood run cold as my mind stopped in its tracks.

  “Do you know what that means?”

  I nodded my head silently, trying to keep my tears at bay while images of Bryan’s face flash through my mind.

  Now, I was glad he wasn’t here.

  “Miss Ryan, you have a malignant brain tumor,” he said.

  “Okay,” I said. “So, what do we do about it? Where do we go from here?”

  The mood in the room changed once again and tears poured down my cheeks like my body knew the secret it had been holding onto even though my brain hadn’t quite processed what was going on yet.

  “It’s very severe,” he said. “The cancer started in your kidney and metastasized to your brain, and it’s in a part of your brain that is almost impossible to operate on.”

  “So, w-what are you saying?” I asked.

  The medicine was doing nothing to touch the headache that was still raging through my body.

  My body that was failing me.

  “Miss Ryan, we have the best cancer treatment center in the nation right up the road, and if you want to fight this, we’ll stand with you every step of the way. But as your doctor who has slaved over these tests and tried to find every avenue you could take, I would advise you to get your affairs in order.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I asked darkly.

  I felt tears trickling down my neck while I finally opened my eyes to look at my doctor. He was looking at me with pity like I was a homeless cat he wanted to take home but couldn’t. Like I was an abandoned child in a trash can he didn’t know what do to with.

  Like I was a drug addict he wanted to help.

  “It means you should take necessary precautions. This cancer is aggressive, and it’s spreading quickly. Get your affairs in order, and if you still want to talk about treatment options, I’m here for you always.”

  I felt my entire world slip from between my fingertips. A life with Bryan, my art gallery, the chance at having a family again. My sister ran through my head and how she was depending on me to stick around. I knew she would never go through with her vocal dreams if I wasn’t there to coax her into them, so what happened if I was gone?

  What about Drew? And Anna? I wanted to see them go on their first date. I wanted to see them fall in love like I knew the two of them would. I wanted to figure out why Ramon Escalante left me his card. I wanted to throw more formal galleries I could tell Jennifer Skyles about.

  “What are my chances of survival?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Miss Ryan, it’s best not to deal in—”

  “What are my chances?” I asked.

  I felt a deafening silence settle in the room as I reached my hand out for Bryan. I felt like I was falling into an endless abyss and leaving him behind. Even though I could feel his hand slip into mine, it still felt as if my hand was empty.

  But Bryan wasn’t there to take my hand, and I whimpered at the emptiness that had descended into my life as my eyes connect
ed with the doctor’s lips.

  “Ten percent,” Doctor Osmunt said. “Your chances of survival are ten percent.”

  THE END

  ... but to be continued

  Every Time Blurb

  USA TODAY BESTSELLING Author, Lexy Timms, finishes her tale about a young man and the sensitive artist who changed his life.

  Bryan McBride thinks he has it all. His brother’s reputation has been cleared, and he’s rekindled his passionate relationship with painter Hailey. His only real struggle is deciding the best way to continuing honoring his brother’s sacrifice by helping the homeless.

  A deadly brain tumor threatens Hailey’s life, but she’s afraid the truth will destroy Bryan. Despite her pain, she doesn’t want to bring him months of emotional turmoil by having him worry about her. She thinks it’ll be best if he doesn’t know until the last moment. But it’s hard to conceal from your own lover that you’re dying.

  Now caught in a race against her own traitorous body, Hailey struggles to create a positive legacy for her beloved, even if it means she has to hurt and push him away.

  Fans of Nicholas Sparks will love this sweet-with-heat love story EVERY TIME.

  THE BRUSH OF LOVE SERIES

  Every Night

  Book 1

  Every Day

  Book 2

  Every Time

  Book 3

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  More by Lexy Timms:

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