Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I would swap places with her in a heartbeat.
Nova sits down beside us and begins to rub her hand up and down Rachel’s back.
It takes a good ten minutes before Rachel is able to regain control of her emotions. Looking feverish and trembling badly, she moves off my lap to sit beside me. Nova hurries to the kitchen to grab a chilled bottle of water from the fridge and brings it to Rachel.
We watch as she takes a few sips, then she asks, “Nova, can you bring me my painkillers? My headache is worse from all the crying.”
Nova darts away as if hellhounds are chasing her.
I wrap my arm around Rachel’s shoulders and try to think of something to say, but everything I think of feels horribly lacking for the gravity of the situation we’re facing.
“I love you, Rach.”
She closes her eyes and leans against my side, which has me holding her tighter.
Sylvia comes out of the guest restroom and takes a seat on the other couch across from us. Her face is blotchy from crying, and she gives me a compassionate look.
“I’m so sorry, Rachel,” she says, her voice scratchy.
Not opening her eyes, my sister can only nod.
As Nova comes rushing down the stairs, Sylvia climbs to her feet. “I’m going to head out so I can get to work on clearing your schedule.”
I give her a grateful expression. “Thanks for everything, Sylvia.”
“Just give me a call or shoot me a text if you need anything.”
Once Sylvia leaves, Nova crouches in front of Rachel and shakes two pills out into her palm.
I stare at Nova as she folds her legs beneath her so she can sit at Rachel’s feet.
Except for when she broke down earlier, she’s been a source of strength and comfort.
Rachel looks at her best friend before she once again asks, “How do I tell Lainey? How do I tell my baby girl I’m dying?”
“We’ll sit her down and explain everything to her as a family,” I answer.
Nova tilts her head. “Maybe take a few days for yourself so you can try to process the shock, Rach. You don’t have to tell her today or tomorrow. Right?”
Rachel sits up a bit straighter. “Maybe I can hold off on telling her until the symptoms get worse, and I can’t hide it any longer.”
I nod. “That sounds good.”
“Lainey noticed you cried this morning,” Nova informs us. “I told her you’re happy because Easton and I are here.”
“Shit,” Rachel murmurs. “I’ll have to hide things better around her.” She thinks for a moment, then continues, “I need to get everything in order.” Her gaze flicks between Nova and me. “You’re both Lainey’s godparents. You’ll have to do for her what I can’t once I’m gone.”
Nova nods while I struggle through a wave of heartache that’s making my eyes burn with unshed tears.
I suck in a deep breath, and when I let it out slowly, I know I’ll have to put up the best performance of my life where Rachel is concerned. I have to be stronger than ever so I can one hundred percent be there for her until the end.
Rachel gives me a pleading look. “I don’t want Lainey’s life to change. You’re the only father figure she knows.”
I don’t hesitate to vow, “I’ll continue to raise Lainey as my own, Rach.”
“Even when you one day have kids of your own,” she pleads.
I brush my palm over the area where the tumor is growing. “I promise to give Lainey the best life possible and to love her for both of us.”
She nods before she turns her attention to Nova, who says, “I’ll be there for Lainey the same way you’ve always been there for me. I promise.”
Rachel lets out a sigh that sounds like it was dragged from the depths of her soul. “Thanks, guys.”
A strained smile forms on Nova’s face. “And you can write letters and make videos, which we can give to Lainey so you’re always a part of her life.”
Rachel nods again. “I’ll definitely do that. I’ll start tomorrow and get the letters and videos done as soon as possible.” She lets out an empty-sounding chuckle. “While I still look good.”
“You’ll always be beautiful,” Nova says.
Silence falls around us for a little while, then Rachel climbs to her feet. “The pain meds are making me tired. I’m going to bed.”
Nova also gets up and hugs Rachel. “Good night, Rach. Is it okay if I check in on you during the night? Just to make sure you’re okay.”
“That’s a good idea,” I agree. When it looks like Rachel’s going to argue, I add, “You could start having seizures or experience other symptoms at any time, so Nova and I are going to keep a close eye on you.”
Her shoulders sag, but at least she nods before she heads toward the stairs.