Reading Online Novel

Only in Dreams(61)



“Yeah, I’ve just been a little under the weather,” he defends and then grabs his robe from the end of the bed, wrapping it around himself. “What are you doing home? I didn’t expect you for a couple more days.”

I think about the question. I’ve just walked in; I’m not ready to dive straight into the devastating break up talk.

“I finished my work and decided I wanted to come home early.” So far, that is mostly the truth.

He hugs me, kisses my cheek, and leaves the bedroom, heading into the kitchen, to pour a glass of orange juice. I watch him. He seems different.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” I ask again.

“Of course,” he replies, but I don’t believe him. “Well …” he hesitates.

“What is it?” I press.

“We need to talk,” he answers softly.

My stomach flutters, and I wonder if he somehow knows about Christian already. “Okay.”

“It’s about the wedding.” As he says the words, I feel my stomach drop like an elevator plummeting from the top floor to the basement.

“All right, is something wrong?” I inquire, following Henry over to the small cafe table.

He looks at me. There’s a pain in his eyes. He knows something, and while I’m not sure exactly what, I’m confident I see pain. He doesn’t respond.

The room is dark, but even without the light I can tell he’s pale. “Have you been resting, like the doctors said?”

“Paige,” he begins, completely ignoring my inquiry. “This is going to be hard to say, so please, just let me get through it. After you hear me out, we can decide what to do about the wedding.”

What to do about the wedding? So he does know something, and he’s going to call off the wedding. Why does this bother me? Shouldn’t I be glad he’s about to do this for me? Say nothing, Paige, just listen.

“Something’s happened.” I swallow hard at his statement. “I went to the doctor for the elimination diet, and it still wasn’t helping, at least not like it should. Two weeks ago I got back the results of my head scan.”

This is not how I expect the conversation to go. Where are the accusations, the screaming, and the disgust? My heart races as a panic rushes over me.

“Is everything all right?” I ask, staring closer now at all the things that have changed about his appearance.

“I’m afraid not.”

I’m not thinking about the wedding or about Christian any longer. All I can think is this is bad, and everything is about to change forever. “Henry, what’s going on?”

He takes a deep breath, leans forward, and scoops my hand into his. I notice how cold he is, and how slender his fingers have become. He looks me in the eyes and softly says, “I have a grade four brain tumor.”

“What?” I gasp, shaking my head, not wanting to allow the information to sink in. “No, that’s not right.”

“It’s not good, sweetheart. It’s malignant,” he continues. I notice he’s calm.

“I don’t understand,” I finally manage to say, my eyes welling up quickly.

“I’m dying,” he replies plainly.

“No, that can’t be, there has to be some sort of mistake. How bad is it?”

“There’s nothing else they can do right now. The tumor is too large for surgery, and because of its stage, it’s growing aggressively. They want try and shrink it with chemo in hopes the tumor gets small enough that they’ll be able to operate.”

“Okay good, so there’s a plan. When does the chemo start?” I question, my mind focused completely on the problem and how to fix it.

“That’s just it, I’m not sure I’m going to have it.”

“What? What do you mean? You have to have it.”

“Honey, the doctors say my chances are pretty slim. As it is now, if I get plenty of rest, who knows how long I could live with this.” he explains.

“No! You just want to give up? That’s not an option!” I exclaim, refusing to accept what he’s saying. “Henry, you have to promise me, if there’s a chance, even a slim one, then you’re going to fight.”

“Listen, you need to take a deep breath. I’ve had time to process this, you haven’t.”

“Yeah, tell me about it! I can’t believe you’ve known about this for two weeks, and you haven’t told me.”

“What was I supposed to say? I didn’t even know how I felt about it,” he explains.

I furrow my brow, my body jerking at the shock of his statement, “You didn’t know how you felt about what?”

“Putting you through this.”