His Tattooed Virgin(Divine Creek Ranch 12)(15)

“You’re not. I want to know. Tell me, Jayne.”

“I started to feel like my life slowed down, while everyone else’s sped up around me. I had no energy. I couldn’t work. Insurance didn’t cover everything and the medical bills started piling up. Between doctor’s visits and treatment appointments, I distracted myself with writing. My family was there for me, but it got exhausting for all of us. I was beyond relieved when the treatments worked and I went into remission. It took a long time to get my energy back and I had side effects from the treatment. They told me that it was likely that I was infertile, which was depressing, but at least I wasn’t dying, you know?”

Seth’s heart went out to her as he nodded.

“I finally got to a point where I felt nearly normal. Mike—my boyfriend—proposed and I accepted. I was thankful that he’d stuck by me but I knew that the infertility diagnosis bothered him. I wasn’t quite up to full speed when I got sick again, the same flu-like symptoms as the first time. The doctors treated the cancer aggressively and the side effects from the chemo and radiation had me wishing I was dead at times but I stayed positive because I had a wedding to look forward to, even though we’d had to put it on hold.

“Knowing that I was susceptible to depression from the last go-round, I tried acupuncture, chiropractic care, and I wrote in every spare moment. I never told Mike about what I was writing because I knew he came from a very conservative family and wouldn’t approve. It was something I did for my own enjoyment so I didn’t worry. One day, he found one of my journals and read it.”

Seth paused for a second to look up at her. Her cheeks were flushed as she made eye contact with him and he understood why she’d been ready to pass out the night before when she’d answered the door.

“Mike was angry. He let me have it then, like it’d been building up for a while. He said he’d put his life on hold long enough. He said he’d never really reconciled himself to the fact there weren’t going to be any kids to pass on his family name if he married me. And he’d be damned if he married a woman who wrote porn.” The last word escaped her lips on a whisper and he wanted to reach for her. He had a sense that she was pulling a bandage off of an old wound and let her continue uninterrupted.

“I was halfway through a cycle of chemotherapy treatments when he broke off our engagement. My mom moved in with me temporarily and helped me because it got so hard to function. I couldn’t get over how tired I was, no matter how much sleep I got. And working was impossible, because the chemo affected my memory and ability to focus. I was really scared. My system was a little haywire and I gained a lot of weight which—you really don’t want to hear all the gory details. I’m sorry.”

He placed a hand around the bottom of her foot and stroked her arch. “It’s okay. Tell me.”

“Between the permanent side effects from the radiation treatments, like this”—she indicated the darkened area he planned to cover—“the scars, the weight gain, the depression…I was a mess. I gave up writing. I nearly gave up altogether but my mom sat me down one day and gave me a talking-to. She told me that if writing made me happy and helped to distract me from my discomfort then Mike could just ‘go fuck himself’ was how she put it. I’d never heard my mom talk like that before.” She giggled softly as she relived the memory.

“She took me swimming when I had the energy for it. She read my stories and didn’t criticize any of them. She held my hand when I threw up after treatments and helped me believe I might survive. I made it through the treatments and last year, the doctors told me that they were confident about the outcome. I focused on my recovery, moved, got a new job, and made contact with Grace and Charity, who I’d lost track of over the years. I decided that for however long I have, I was going to make up for all those lost years.”

“And here you are.”

Her voice was a soft echo. “Here I am.”

Her abdomen fluttered as he drew in light, brief strokes, and then he shifted, trapping her other calf between his thighs as he moved toward her left hip.

“How are you doing now?”

“I have to be careful of infections and get my flu shot every year. I still feel a little out of sync at times, dealing with people who don’t know what it’s like to deal with life-and-death issues. I lost most of that weight, but I still struggle.”

He couldn’t help the fact that she’d been sick but he understood about her self-consciousness, after the struggles and trauma she’d been through. “To me you look perfect. And I can cover up most of these scars and this mark if you want them completely gone.” He showed her the rose that would cover almost all of the area darkened by the radiation treatments. Her thigh was warm and satiny as he rested his forearm against it. When he reached the elastic waist of her G-string, he hooked it with his thumb and kept drawing.