I laugh humorlessly. “Really, Kathy. You said you would be straight with me. We knew this was a possibility. Hell, you hounded me for months to have this done. You knew this was what could happen. That this could be my outcome.”
“Yes, I did. But this is what I do, Whitney. I know that this does not mean that you have cancer. You need to have the tests to rule it out. You need to do it now. If it does turn out to be cancer, finding out sooner rather than later makes all the difference.”
“You think I don’t know that? Did you forget that for seven long years, I watched this fucking disease kill my mother slowly? Did you forget that we had each other and that was it? I was there. I cleaned up her vomit, I held her while she cried, I coaxed her to eat when that fucking disease and the chemicals they said would save her life made her so sick she was withering away. I know all too well what this means,” I seethe.
“That was insensitive, I’m sorry. But she was my best friend—”
“She was my mother! Mine! She was all I had, and now, now that I’ve found where I fit in. . . . I’m learning to live in this world without her, and this—” My voice breaks as a sob falls from my chest.
“I’m so sorry, honey.”
I don’t reply. I can’t. I’m sobbing, gasping for breath. It feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest. I don’t understand it. Why did God have to take her and now this? “Why?”
“I don’t know, Whitney, but we don’t know what this is.”
We sit there on the phone, neither of us talking. I cry for my mom, for me, for Aaron. Oh God, Aaron. I can’t do this to him. He deserves so much more than a girlfriend that could leave him alone. We just found each other and now this. I know the end result. . . . He loses me either way, but this way he doesn’t have to watch. He doesn’t have to see me go through all of that. It broke me, changed me. I won’t do that to him. I can’t.
“I’ll call the hospital and order the test. I’m going to run you through it all. I want to be certain.”
“No.” I can’t be here. I have to go, clean break. That’s what I need. I know he’ll be hurt, but I can’t let him go through what I did. I won’t do that to him. I can’t let him give up his dreams to take care of me. “I’m coming to you. I’m leaving now.”
“Honey, is that a good idea? Are you sure you can drive?”
“Yes. I’ll see you tonight.” I end the call and toss my phone in the cupholder, resting my head back against the seat. I have to do this. I have to go back to Chicago, but my heart is screaming for me not to go. I’m leaving a part of me here. A part of me that I know deep in my soul I will never get back. I’ve lost my mother and the love of my life in the span of less than two years.
Fuck my life.
I need to get on the road, but I can’t leave without at least letting someone know where I’m going. Aunt Jenny will be upset, but I can’t call her. She would see right through me. I grab my phone to text Olivia.
Me: Hey. I’m headed to Chicago to stay with Kathy for a few days. I’ll call when I can.
Olivia: Are you all right? What’s going on?
Me: Just . . . I’m not ready to talk about it. I will. I promise. I just need some time.
Olivia: Is it Aaron? What did he do?
Me: No. He’s . . . everything. I just need some time. I’ll call I promise.
Olivia: Does he know?
Me: No. You can tell him I’m in Chicago, but not how to find me. I’ll call in a few days.
There is one more thing I need to do. Taking a deep breath, I pull up McKinley’s contact.
Me: Hey, Kinley. I need to go home to Chicago for a few days. I’m sorry to do this last minute, but I have to. I’ll call in a few days.
I power off my phone and drop it back in the cupholder. I turn the key in the ignition and put the car in gear. I have a five-plus-hour drive ahead of me to let my new reality sink in.
After Whitney left earlier today, I decided I wanted to ride. I saddled Bud and we hit the trails. I went down by the pond and chuckled when I remembered Whitney calling it our spot. The funny thing is, I’ve come to think of it that way too. I have hundreds of childhood memories here, but now the first thing I think of is her. I stare out at the water for I don’t know how long, letting Bud drink and graze while I sit on his back.
Eventually we end up at the house site. Bud and I walk the perimeter and I can see it all. Every vision I have of the house we talked about today has her in it. I want that—more than anything, I want that, want her to live this life with me. My stomach grumbles and I realize I’ve been out here for hours. I check my phone and see it’s after seven. Whit hasn’t called yet. I know she was dreading her conversation with Kathy.
Giving Bud a nudge, I head back to the barn. I quickly unsaddle him and brush him out before giving him an apple and putting him back in the pasture. I grab my phone from my back pocket and dial her number. It goes straight to voice mail, which is something it’s never done. I try not to worry, knowing that she was going to talk to Kathy. She even said it would more than likely be a lengthy conversation, but that was hours ago. Maybe she had to wait for Kathy to call her back or something.
I head to the house for dinner. I’ll eat and then try her again.
“I was wondering when you were going to come in and eat,” Mom says. She’s sitting at the kitchen table doing a crossword.
“I was out on Bud. Took a ride around the property.”
“How did it go today?” Dad asks, coming in from the living room.
“Great. I mean, the contractor took all of our ideas and he’s supposed to give us a call in a couple of days.”
“Us?” Mom asks.
I look over at Dad and he smirks. “Yeah. Me and Whitney. I mean, she should have a say in where she lives.”
“Aaron! Is there something you’re not telling me?” she says with a huge-ass smile on her face.
I laugh. “If that something is that I’m madly in love with Whitney, then yes. As far as anything more than that, not yet.”
Mom is out of her chair and wrapping her arms around my neck. “She’s the one. I knew it.” She grins. “Have you told her?”