doctor,” Liv says. “It would be nice if you both accepted that and realized he’s the one who can help me. Do you think for one second it’s remotely helpful for me to know you don’t like him?”
“I don’t dislike him,” I say, slamming too hard on the brakes at a stop sign. “He’s not as experienced as the others, but he’s competent and—”
“He’s far more than competent, and you know it. There is no way in hell you would let a doctor who was only competent treat me.”
That’s true. I take a breath, acknowledging that maybe Anderson is more qualified than I’ve been willing to give him credit for.
So what the hell is going on? If Liv trusts him and is comfortable with him, and if she likes his sense of humor, and he’s committed to helping her through this nightmare, then who the fuck am I to argue?
Liv and I are silent for the rest of the ride home. I don’t even know what to say to myself, much less her. I sure as hell don’t know what my problem is—aside from the fact that the love of my life and center of my universe has a life-threatening disease.
A thousand curses blister in my head. The anger is like an active volcano I can’t control—sometimes it only simmers, and other times it explodes without warning through my blood, drenching everything in a red haze of rage.
When that happens, all I can do is run. The kids are still at school, so after Liv and I get home, I change into track pants and take off, running on the sidewalks bordering Colonial houses and leaf-strewn lawns.
Down the street leading to the high school, across the parking lot to the football stadium where I can circle the track and pound my way up and down the steps of the bleachers.
Get out! Get out. Get the fuck out of my wife, you goddamned fucking insidious disease… I will fucking crush you, obliterate you, rip you apart…
I stop at the top of the bleachers, my chest burning. Sweat drips from my temples. I grip the chain-link fence lining the back of the bleachers and fight to catch my breath.
As my heartbeat slows, a thin thread of sanity filters past my anger. A fuck lot of good it does anyone for me to rage at cancer.
I turn and go back down the steps. A grayish light has fallen, storm clouds covering the sun and rising over the mountains.
I walk home slowly. Hollowness opens inside my chest. The rage burned away my guard, and now bitter helplessness and fear slither through me. My pulse ratchets up again, my muscles stiffening in defense.
I reach the Butterfly House just as a crack of lightning splits through the sky and rain starts to fall. I toss my keys onto the foyer table and go into the kitchen.
Liv is at the table in the sunroom, working on her laptop. The table is covered with papers—insurance forms, prescriptions, website printouts, pamphlets…
“Oh, I’m glad you made it back.” She turns to me. “Looks like a heavy storm for the next hour at least.”
I stop in the doorway and look at her. Long hair pulled into a ponytail. Soft, curvy body underneath her fleece shirt and yoga pants. Pale skin. Sprinkle of freckles over her nose.
The fear digs in harder, like claws. Puncturing. Bleeding. My hands curl into fists. My breathing is fast, choking my throat.
“Dean?” A crease appears between Liv’s eyebrows. “Are you—”
I can’t stop myself. Don’t want to. Won’t.
I cross the room to my wife in three strides and grab her shoulders, hauling her perfect, beautiful body against mine. Her gasp of surprise is lost against the pressure of my mouth. I grip her harder, forcing her lips apart with mine, needing to taste every part of her.
Liv tenses in resistance. Her fingers curl into the front of my damp shirt. Fire boils through my veins. I drive my tongue into her mouth. Sweet. So fucking sweet. My cock hardens.
She makes a muffled noise in her throat. I tighten my hold on her arms and lift my head. My breath scorches my lungs. My vision is dark at the edges, but she’s in clear light, her brown eyes wide with shock and her lips parted. We stare at each other. Thunder rumbles outside, rain sleeting against the windows.
Before Liv can speak, I grab her hips and push her back. I reach behind her and shove my arm across the