Garrett(41)

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Have you been sick all day?”

She shakes her head. “No…started a few hours ago. They gave me some pills to take, but I threw them up.”

Olivia continues to retch and I hold her through it. When she’s done, I help her stand on shaky legs. “Let’s get you in the bed.”

She nods and pushes past me to walk out the bathroom door on her own, clearly letting me know she still has some gas in her. I have a feeling Olivia doesn’t like to feel weak and helpless. Which is funny…because that’s exactly how I feel right now.

I follow her back to her bedroom and she crawls into bed. I pull the covers up over her and my gaze falls on a prescription bottle on her nightstand next to a big bottle of Gatorade.

“Are these the pills that are supposed to stop the nausea?”

She nods at me.

“Can you try to take another dose?”

“Yeah…the other ones came up whole. But I’m pretty sure these are going to come up too.”

“Let’s just try,” I say reassuringly as I sit on the edge of her bed. I read the prescription bottle and shake out the dosage. I hand them to her and then unscrew the cap from the Gatorade. Handing it to her, I say, “Take just a few small sips with the pills. Give your stomach a chance to handle it.”

She takes a tiny sip of the liquid to wash the pills down and lies back on her pillow with her eyes closed. My fingers come up, my hand shaking slightly, and I smooth them over her forehead.

“What does this all mean?” I ask hesitantly.

Her eyes open and she stares at me with a confidence that shocks me to my core. “I don’t know what any of it means, but I’m sure as fuck not going to let this beat me.”

My lips twitch, wanting to smile at her sass, but I’m still filled with too much terror right now. “We’ll talk about this later,” I tell her gently. “Right now…think you can get some sleep?”

“Yeah,” she says with a small smile. “I’m pretty wiped out.”

I stand up from her bed and watch as she turns on her side, curling one arm up under her pillow. She looks so small and frail right now, which causes anger to surge inside me. Why does this happen to someone like to Olivia? Especially when I just found her?

Olivia closes her eyes and I turn to walk out of her bedroom.

“Garrett?”

Turning to look back at Olivia, I find her watching me with heavy eyes. “Thank you. I didn’t want you to see this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay,” I murmur, but nothing about this is okay. I’m not sure how it can be. “Just get some rest.”

My instinct is to flee. Just this morning, I had convinced myself that Olivia was the woman who I could take a chance on. I had stupid thoughts of hanging out with her, going on adventures, her coming to my games, and me sinking into her body every night. I was actually a bit juiced up thinking that it could be a hell of a lot of fun to get to know her…to have a relationship with her.

But now that all seems to be coated in bitter ash and I can’t really see past the fact that she’s lying in bed sick, and I have no clue how to handle it.

Is this going to kill her? Am I getting involved with a woman who could die?

I have no answers, and that just pisses me off more.

As I let myself out of Olivia’s apartment, I pull my phone out of my pocket and flip through my contacts so I can dial up our team’s orthopedic doctor, Mark Godson. He’s a pretty cool guy…nursed me through a wrist sprain late in this past season, and we’ve become friends.

He answers on the third ring. “What’s up, Garrett?”

“I need some information on cancer,” I tell him.

“Yeah…well, in case you forgot, I’m an orthopedic doctor,” he says with a laugh.

I’m not in a fucking joking mood. “Just get me someone that can answer some questions for me,” I snarl into the phone. “And the sooner the better.”

Mark’s voice softens. “Yeah…sure. No problem. A buddy of mine practices oncology. I’ll have him call you. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine…a friend of mine, not so much.”

“When do you want him to contact you?” he asks.

“About five minutes ago. I’ll be waiting,” I say, and I disconnect the phone.

I try to get a handle on my emotions. But they are too thick for me to wade through them. I’m hoping this oncology doctor can at least educate me so I know what I’m dealing with, and until then, I have someone else I need to talk to that has some explaining to do.

—

I ring the doorbell, impatient, annoyed, and bristling with resentment. When the door swings open, Alex looks at me with joyful surprise. “What’s up, dude?”