Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,26

an inevitable impact. “It’s just so last minute, and I’m so grateful for the opportunity, but I just can’t get on the plane.”

“It was last minute when I offered it to you yesterday,” he said, his voice stern, “and you agreed to it. You were excited. What changed?”

I swallowed. Everything changed, I wanted to say. “It’s my brother. He’s sick.”

“What do you mean, he’s sick?”

I could picture the professor crossing his arms, his gaze growing more impatient by the second.

“He has cancer,” I blurted out.

Silence weighed heavy on the line. “I’m sorry to hear that, Taryn,” he said his voice turning softer. Something creaked, as if he’d leaned back into his chair.

He knew why I’d left last year. The final time I’d spoken with him, standing between stacks of books in his office, my eyes had glimmered with tears as I told him I had to withdraw from the program. To this day, I wasn’t sure how many of those tears were for my mother and how many for me.

“What’s his prognosis? Is it terminal?”

I almost said I don’t know, but caught myself. I wasn’t going to explain to my teacher that my brother had kept it a secret. Besides, if my brother thought he’d tell me about his cancer when it was “in the rear view mirror” as Landon put it, then he must’ve thought it wasn’t terminal.

“No,” I said finally. I should’ve said yes. Ended this conversation immediately. I didn’t owe him an explanation. Even though… I kind of did. He’d come all the way to the mall to find me. To give me another chance. And here I was once again, turning my back on it. “I just don’t want to leave him behind. It’s a vulnerable time, one that feels familiar in a really scary way. Right now we’re still waiting on some tests.

“Is he bedridden?” The professor asked. “In the hospital?”

“No,” I said, trying not to sound indignant. “But that doesn’t mean I can pretend it’s just a cold. He has cancer. You know I lost my moth-“

“I know you have a way of prioritizing everyone else,” he said. “This internship isn’t about them. It’s about you. Your mind got you this opportunity. I understood why you had to walk away last year. But this sounds different. Yet you’re going to let it slip through your fingers again?”

“It’s not like I want to miss out on this.”

“I know you regret leaving the program last year,” he said. “I know you’ve been waiting for that moment to fix that mistake. This is that moment, Taryn. Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

For a moment I thought he hung up on me. The only sounds I could hear were my wheels on pavement, the low hum of the radio I hadn’t turned all the way off.

“You won’t be given a third chance.”

His words were like a dagger to my heart, and a wave of panic spiraled through me. What if that was true?

What if this choice was the nail in the coffin to the career I’d worked so hard for?

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” I said. I needed him to believe me. “You saw me. I work at a mall kiosk now. I want this. Very much.”

“Then why are you having such a hard time prioritizing yourself? I know it’s not easy, but it’s necessary. I went through this too, once.”

“You did?”

“Yes. My father was ill. He was diagnosed with early onset Parkinson’s two days after I got accepted to med school.”

“What did you do?”

“I did what he wanted me to do. I went to med school two states away. And when I received my degree, he was there to celebrate with me. He was in a wheelchair, but that day, it didn’t matter. I’d never seen him so happy. So proud of me. For years I’d worried I was too selfish, that I’d made the wrong choice. But after that moment, I knew I hadn’t. And I haven’t regretted my choice in the decades since.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. “People get sick all the time, Taryn. This is a turning point in your life. A moment to divide everything into a before and after. Besides, It’s a short flight home if something happens. You can be there for him if you need to be, and still follow your dreams.”

But he doesn’t’ get it. I couldn’t be there for my family while focusing on myself. They needed me. “I know, but my dad— “

“I thought