Afternoon Delight - By Mia Zachary Page 0,54
up, rubbing her arms.
“It’s chilly in here.” She gathered her work clothes into a bundle. “I’ll set the thermostat higher on my way to the ensuite.”
“Sure. I’ll clean up in here.”
Chris washed in the downstairs powder room and got dressed. Then he went back into the living room to see to the picnic. Rei joined him in the kitchen a few moments later, now wearing a turtleneck and jeans.
As she passed by the phone, she stopped to press a button on the answering machine. “Five messages. I hope they’re not from reporters.”
“You don’t have to respond if they are. That’s what the delete button is for.”
“Too bad you can’t delete them in real life.”
The first two calls were from telemarketers. He ignored them while Rei repackaged the leftover food and he put the plates into the dishwasher. When she bent over to get a storage container from one of the cabinet drawers, he ogled the snug fit of her jeans. He was surprised that his body responded so soon after they’d made love.
She straightened up, caught his admiring glance and grinned. “Don’t you ever think about anything other than sex?”
“No, not when you’re around.” He rinsed out the sink and ran the disposal.
Rei, it’s Dr. Solís. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Please call me. You have got to reschedule those blood tests as soon as possible. I understand what you’re afraid of, but you’ve put this off long enough. I hope to hear from you soon.
There was no mistaking the urgency he heard in the doctor’s voice. Chris frowned and crossed the kitchen to Rei’s side, reaching for her hand. Blood tests? His first thought was to wonder if she might be pregnant.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Reality has caught up with me.” She didn’t look at him, just kept staring at the floor.
Chris squeezed her icy fingers, not understanding, or rather, not wanting to. Slivers of fear crept through his veins. His body recognized what his mind refused to. “Rei?”
Finally she looked up at him. Her dark eyes had the glassy sheen of tears. When she spoke, her soft voice was breathy and strained. “You’ve never asked about my scar.”
He shrugged, barely keeping his voice steady with a calm he didn’t feel. “I have scars you never asked about, too.”
“Mine is from surgery, a lumpectomy I had last year. I had breast cancer and—” Her voice broke. “It looks like it might be back.”
No. Shock froze his next heartbeat. No…
Chris’s numb fingers dropped her hand and he shook his head, refusing to believe what he’d heard. This couldn’t be happening. He stepped back, his eyes racing over her body, looking for he had no idea what. It couldn’t be true. She looked fine.
She had to be fine.
“I…I don’t know. What can I say?” He continued to stare at her in some crazy attempt to convince himself it wasn’t true.
“There’s nothing else you need to say.”
Her voice sounded oddly harsh. His gaze returned to her face and he saw the anguish, the utter bewilderment and anger, and knew it was true. Rei had cancer.
Pain stabbed into the hollow void in his chest that he’d thought might finally be filled. They had only just found each other. He’d only just acknowledged how much he cared for her. He hadn’t even told her yet. And now…Chris released the breath he was holding.
“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, and fought to control his panic. He had to be strong. But icy fear was twisting around his heart. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave. And yet he should have known. Didn’t everyone he cared about abandon him eventually? “You’re going to be fine, Rei. You’ll be just fine.”
Don’t think about it. Don’t let it hurt….
REI FELT HER heart twist and bleed inside her chest. If Chris told her she’d be fine in that patronizing voice one more time, she’d hit him.
She stared at the expression of revulsion and rejection on his face, and let anger flare to the surface. She’d opened herself up, allowed herself to trust him. Now when she needed comfort and support, he backed away from her like she’d grown a second head.
“I’d like you to go now, Chris.”
“You shouldn’t be by yourself right now.”
Like being with him while her heart shattered into a thousand pieces was better? Her misery was like a physical pain, so she once again tapped into her anger. He’d advised her not to paint every man with the same brush, then showed his true