that he didn’t need to.
I reached out and grabbed his hand. “Thank you for putting up with my idiocy.”
“Hmm. Yeah, I wasn’t doing you any favors.”
I blinked, my eyes stinging. “Thanks for being there for me even though I’m not perfect.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Heath?”
He glanced up at me. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. I never told you that before, during all of this. I’m so sorry. I put you in a crappy position.”
“You were afraid. I get it.”
“I still am.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “Yeah…we all are. But…the difference is that most of the time we don’t let fear lead us to do stupid things. Who was it that said…something about courage not being the absence of fear but the triumph over it?”
I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “That was Nelson Mandela or Eleanor Roosevelt or someone like that.”
“Hard to get those two mixed up.” He laughed. “I’m trying to say that you can’t let fear rule you all the time. You’ve got to stand up to it and overcome it. Let it help you grow as a person.”
I smiled, throwing a playful pretend-punch at him. “When did you get all wise and stuff?”
“Wise and wiseass…there ain’t a big difference.”
“Good point.” I smiled. “Why don’t you ask Connor to come live here?”
He threw me a glance out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve been…thinking about it.”
I laughed. “Is that what this unprecedented cleanup job is all about? Decluttering to make room for the boyfriend’s stuff?”
“So you wouldn’t mind?”
“Why would I mind? This is your place. You have the right to ask your boyfriend to live with you.”
“You and I were roommates before Brian and I got together. Then I moved out, forced you to move to that dive studio.”
“It wasn’t a dive!”
“You know what I mean. I don’t want you to think that if Connor comes here that you have to leave.”
I leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it. Now ask him.”
When he pulled me into a hug, thanking me, I couldn’t stop thinking about his words—about fear. That it was exactly what kept me from accepting Adam’s offer to move in with him again. Would fear of all that lay ahead lead me to make more poor choices?
Chapter Eight
Adam
Emilia had her minor surgical procedures done and then a few days later we showed up at the hospital for her first round of chemotherapy. She would endure a total of twelve treatments, one every week for the next three months.
And this morning, at the bright and early hour of eight a.m., we sat in a private room in the UCI Medical Center while a nurse went down a checklist and pricked Emilia’s finger to get some quick blood work done. Emilia didn’t say much. She sat in a comfortable recliner with a big IV stand next to it and she had that same dead stare she’d had for days. Her golden eyes hadn’t glowed for—what was it, weeks? Months? She hardly seemed like the same Mia I’d fallen in love with. It was like she was becoming a shadow of herself.
She reached down and gripped my hand. “You didn’t have to come, you know…but thanks.”
I didn’t have to come? What the fuck was that? I frowned. “So you wanted to do this alone, too?”
She gave a light shrug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“But you did specifically ask me and your mom not to tell any of your friends that you were coming in today. Was there a reason for that?”
She took a deep breath and let it go. “This isn’t easy…”
“Asking for help? Yeah…I’m noticing that it’s damn near impossible.”
She grimaced, avoiding my eyes.
“Have you considered that it’s more than just wanting to help you—it’s needing to help you? To feel that in some way we are doing something and not standing by feeling utterly helpless and shut out?”
Emilia blinked and frowned, as if the idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. “I don’t want to shut you out…not