I’m worried as well. She told me it usually doesn’t take this long to get the results, unless there’s some sort of backlog.
It usually doesn’t take this long.
I close my eyes, amazed at my own stupidity. She’s gotten the test results back, of course she has.
But would she tell me that right before my brother’s wedding? No. She’s used to dealing with things on her own and she wouldn’t want to pull my focus from my family before such an important event. Because that’s what my girl does. She puts everyone else’s needs above her own and I’ve been oblivious enough this week to allow it to happen.
A cold spike rams through my heart.
She didn’t tell me, which can only mean one thing.
17
I really have to stop hanging in bars.
The bartender hands me a glass of club soda and I take a small sip. Casey is upstairs dancing the night away with her new husband. Vin got to watch his beloved brother get married with no distractions.
I did it. I got through it.
Now I feel like crying.
I put my phone to my ear and listen to the voic
email I got from Dr. Rose two days ago again. Every time I play it, part of me hopes I’ll hear something different. Something other than abnormal and more testing.
All the ways she avoided saying what we both know to be true.
It’s back.
In a moment of petulance, I forward the message from Dr. Rose to my mother. I doubt she’ll even listen to it. If it doesn’t come attached to a check from my father, I doubt she’ll care.
As I sit at the bar and drink my club soda, all I can think of is what’s about to happen. The thought of replaying the last few years over again makes me want to cry. Is this what I can look forward to for the rest of my life, a constant rotation of testing and worry? Never feeling safe to get invested in anything and getting pieces of my body cut out every few years?
Worse, this time I’ll be dragging Vin along for the ride. He loves me so much. If it was just me, I could take it. I’m a survivor. It’s what I do. But he has no idea the toll this process can take on a person and their loved ones. His heart is in my hands and I’m going to trample it by dying on him.
I honestly have never felt worse.
After a few minutes, I look over and notice the woman sitting on my left. Brunette. Blue eyes. Panicked expression.
“Fucking hell.” I point at her with the same hand holding my drink. “If you’re down here…”
Anya bursts into laughter that sounds suspiciously like crying. “You’re the maid of honor!”
Her words make my shoulders slump. I am the maid of honor and I’m hiding out instead of celebrating with one of my best friends. Poor Casey is probably wondering where the hell her bridal party has gone.
I bang my forehead against the bar top. “We are terrible friends. You know that, right?”
“I’m willing to concede the possibility. To be fair, I almost got killed by a cupcake just now, so I’m probably not making the best decisions.”
The bartender sets a drink down in front of her on one of those fancy white napkins. Anya hands him her credit card.
“Well, at least I don’t feel quite as bad now.” I raise my glass in a toast. “To the last ones standing.”
“The last ones,” she echoes. Her face crumples.
Uh oh. I know why I’m drinking alone at the bar in the middle of my friend’s wedding reception. But clearly Anya is having some kind of crisis, too.
I wave to the bartender. “I have a feeling we’re going to need more drinks.”