you a woman.”
She holds the ring out to me. “Keep it for me, like you did when I had the surgery.”
“Of course.” I slip the ring into the pocket of my suit jacket and run my hand over Liv’s thinning hair. “By summer, you’ll be wearing your wedding ring again.”
She smiles. It’s a heartening thought. Summer—when flowers are in bloom, boats float on the lake, Nicholas is antsy for the end of school, Bella wants to plant a garden, and the town is setting up ice-cream stands and paddle-boat rentals.
By then, my wife will be wearing her wedding ring again.
“You’d better go.” Liv glances at the clock. “Your meeting is at two.”
I hesitate, reluctant to leave her alone, though it’s a meeting about the World Heritage Studies program that I can’t miss.
“Don’t worry.” She stands on her toes to kiss me. “I’m feeling good, and all I have to do this afternoon is pick the kids up from school. After your meeting, I want you to go to the gym or go for a run or something, okay? Work it off.”
Because even though I haven’t said a word about the doctor, Liv knows I walk out of every appointment in a snarled mess of anger and frustration. I promise her I’ll obey her order, then head to King’s for the meeting and an afternoon lecture course.
After work, I take my duffle bag and walk across campus to the gym for a kickboxing class. Archer is in the locker room, changing into shorts and a T-shirt.
“Hey, man,” I say. “Didn’t think you’d be here today.”
“I figured you would be,” he replies. “How did the appointment go?”
“The doctor says Liv is doing well.”
Archer glances at me, like he knows that what the doctor said still isn’t enough. I turn away from him and pull off my tie and suit jacket. Punching the training bag is going to feel good.
When I toss my jacket into the locker, something clinks onto the concrete floor. Archer bends down to pick up Liv’s wedding ring.
“She’s already lost so much weight it doesn’t fit her anymore,” I say as he examines the ring.
And she’s only had two rounds of chemo. What’s going to happen by the time she’s on round four? Round six?
Fear crawls up my chest. Archer holds out the ring to me.
“She wanted me to keep it for her,” I explain, putting the ring back into my pocket. “I’d better put it somewhere safe.”
“You could wear it,” he suggests.
“What?”
He unfastens a thin, black leather strap from around his wrist and hands it to me. “Put it on there and wear it.”
I look at the leather strap. “This is a bracelet.”
“It’s a wristband.”
“Thanks, but…uh, I’ll figure something else out.”
Archer mutters something that sounds like “idiot” under his breath, but he takes the bracelet back and fastens it to his wrist. It actually doesn’t look hideous on him, somehow suiting the rebel biker thing he’s always had going on. Not that I’d tell him that.
After changing, I wrap my hands, and we head out to warm up before class. An hour of hard jabs, punches, hooks, and kicks, and we’re both sweating and breathing hard. A part of me envisions the training bag as the goddamned cancer inside my wife, and there’s some satisfaction in hitting and kicking it as hard as I can. Not the first time I’ve done this. Won’t be the last either.
Archer and I fist-bump our gloves at the end of class, then sit on a bench and gulp some water. I check my phone, where there are a couple of reassuring texts from Liv that she and the kids are at home playing Candy Land and eating popcorn.
I set the phone aside and rest my elbows on my knees.
“Problem?” Archer asks.
“No, they’re all at home.” I drag my hands over my face. “Fucking hard to leave them alone, though. I hate it. I mean, Liv’s doing okay but what if…”
I shake my head. What if is starting to rule my life. I remember Liv once told me it was time to focus on what is rather than what if. I could do that back then, but not now.
“What else did the doctor say?” Archer asks.
I choke out a humorless laugh. “He’s happy with how things are going. He’s the one who ordered the chemo and radiation. Liv likes him. Trusts him.”
I feel my brother looking at me perceptively.
“And you?” he asks.
“He’s a good doctor.”
“But you don’t like him.”
“It doesn’t matter if I