and have the pathology report before she spent time with him. “I’ll stay over this week if you want,” he offered. She didn’t have the courage to tell him he couldn’t. Then he would know something was seriously wrong, but she would still have the bandages on, on Monday, and even the following week. She’d have to tell him something. And the doctor said her breast would be tender for several weeks after that, and there would be a small indentation where they had removed the lump. Sooner or later she’d have to explain it to Peter, even if she said it was benign. But not yet. Not when she felt so sick and hurt so much, and felt so small. This wasn’t the side of her she wanted him or anyone to see. The frail, human side. She was used to showing the world her strength, not her weakness. “Let me know if you want me to come by over the weekend,” he said hopefully when they hung up, and she practically crawled into bed, took another pain pill, and passed out.
It was a long, lonely weekend. She did a lot of soul searching as she lay there hurting. She had done everything she wanted to with her life. She had created a successful business to leave to her children. She had provided security for them. She had lived to see her grandchildren, and she would see Cass’s baby born in June. She had brought up her own children as best she could. She had loved two wonderful men. But suddenly as she examined all of it, it didn’t seem like enough. She hadn’t taken time to play, to relax and have fun. She had been so busy working that it had taken precedence over all else for most of her adult life, if not all of it. The only time she took off was two weeks every summer for her children. She realized that she wanted to slow down a little now, not a lot, but enough to enjoy herself, and spend time with Peter. He meant more to her than she had admitted to herself. And she didn’t have to marry him, but they could be with each other more. She didn’t want to die alone in an empty, silent house. She realized that over the weekend, as she listened to the silence. She had never felt lonelier in her life.
She called all of her children over the weekend, and finally Peter. She felt a little better, but not enough. It had been depressing, but a revelation of sorts too. She had realized she wasn’t going to live forever. She didn’t have another hundred years to play with. She would have whatever she got, and she wanted to make it good, better than she had been, more fun, and gentler, and bask in the love of the good man who loved her.
“I miss you,” she said to him when she called him. This time she was the first to say it.
“I miss you too. I’ve been lonely for you all weekend.” It was good to hear.
“So have I.”
“Are you feeling better?” He sounded concerned. He had been for days.
“A little,” she said honestly. Her breast didn’t hurt quite as much, but it had been a jolt to her system. And she realized she would have to tell him something at least, she hadn’t figured out what yet. The truth, or only some of it. She hadn’t decided. She wanted to tell him about the epiphany she’d had too, but not until she was feeling better. She had managed to get through this alone, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that again, or why she had to. She had realized that it was okay to share her burden with someone else, particularly if he loved her. She would have done it for him.
She thought of him that night, and wished he had been there for the weekend, near her, while she slept. She wished she had allowed it, or felt that she could. There was always a voice in her, telling her to be strong, and she had been. But suddenly she wondered if it was so important to always be strong, to never let her guard down, to run the empire with an iron hand. For the first time in her life, all she wanted was to be a woman. It was enough.
Chapter 26
The week she waited for the pathology report was agonizing, and she