it’d taken so long to grow back after chemo.
Hair I might lose again.
A sob forced its way over the lump in my throat. It was the culmination of everything. But the fact the potential loss of my hair was even on my radar made me feel like the worst kind of bitch.
God, I’m a shit person.
Fully clothed, Alexander climbed onto the bed and hauled me to him. He held me tight as, through my tears, I told him about Jenna. I didn’t mince words.
She was annoying.
Narcissistic.
Immature.
But under all that, she was genuinely a good person. Kinda self-centered and fucked up, sure. But never cruel. Never a mean girl.
After a while, I fell into an old, reliable depression nap. It’d been a while since I’d had one. Only that time, Alexander was there to make sure I ate something and stayed hydrated.
And to keep the nightmares away.
_______________
LOCKED IN ONE of the shelter offices the next morning, I eyed the phone as though it were a coiled snake, poised to jump and attack.
You can do this, Briar.
Just pick up the phone and… do the phone thing.
God, I really do suck at this. Poor Aria, if I’m her hype man, she’s really screwed.
I needed to just get it over with, otherwise I’d have to use my cell. And I did not want to do that.
I wasn’t ready for Alexander to know.
I wasn’t even ready to know, but I kinda had to.
Finally working up the nerve to pretend I was braver than an inanimate object, I picked up the phone and dialed. It rang and rang and rang, the shrill noise like a taunt in my head. I was afraid they’d pick up and I’d have to voice my concerns. As if verbally unleashing them into the universe would make them real. But I was even more terrified they wouldn’t, and I’d have to find the nerve to call back. That I’d be left waiting.
Wondering.
Obsessing.
Finally, the call connected and a friendly voice greeted me. “Department of Oncology.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Fear had sucked it dry—as if gritty sand coated my tongue, cementing it in place.
“Hello?” the woman prompted when the silence stretched.
My chest was so tight, I wondered if anxiety and fear could wrap themselves around my heart until it stopped beating.
Closing my eyes, I found my strength and forced the words through the gravel in my throat.
I can’t believe I’m saying this.
“I need an appointment with Dr. Elio.”
“You’re in luck, he had a cancellation this afternoon.”
Yeah.
That’s me all right.
Lucky.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Band-Aids
Briar
For enlightenment
“I THINK WE should break up.”
There. Done. Band-Aid ripped off. And with it went my soul.
“No.”
I’d come home from the doctor, hoping to have time before Alexander arrived. I had to strengthen my defense because I knew I’d falter when I saw him. I needed to organize my argument because I knew there’d be one. And I wanted to freshen up because no one wanted to look exhausted and sloppy during a breakup.
Un-fucking-fortunately, when I’d opened my door, there he was, sitting on my couch.
I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Sorry, I misspoke. We are broken up. You can leave now.”
“Sorry, I also misspoke,” he shot back. “Fuck no.”
“You don’t really get a say in this.”
“The hell I don’t.”
“Things ran their course.”
He stood—tall, strong, and dangerous. I had to lock my knees. Not so I didn’t step away from him.
So I didn’t move to him.
“It was fun, but don’t let the door hit me on the ass on my way out? Is that what you’re saying?”
No.
I lifted my chin. “Yes.”
“And this decision would have nothing to do with the oncology appointment you had today?”
All the bravado I’d feigned vanished, and my shoulders slumped. “How did you know?”
“I always know.”
I was frustrated. Disappointed. Heartbroken. Pissed off.
And scared.
So fucking scared.
I didn’t deal with emotions well to begin with. My childhood hadn’t exactly equipped me with proper coping tools.
Not unless suck it up, shut up and smile bigger, or have some control were recommended in the new parenting books.
Right then, with everything building and taking over, there was nowhere for it all to go. The pressure erupted. And I lashed out. “You’re such a fucking stalker.”
“Yup.”
“And obsessive.”
“When it comes to you? Without a fucking doubt.”
“This is none of your business.”
“It sure as shit is. You’re my business because you’re mine.”
“No, I’m not. I hate you.”
Like the heaviness before a wild thunderstorm, the air around us grew electric.
I’d never seen Alexander angry. He was rarely frustrated or irritated. The yin to