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Chapter 20

Bethany

The last couple days have been nothing but an absolute whirlwind. To tell you the truth, I knew it was a possibility cancer could be part of my future, but what I never prepared for is the fact it could actually happen. The potential is one thing, but when reality hits it’s something else entirely.

Tomorrow my life will change in an immeasurable way. I will have parts of me ripped out, in the hopes of saving my life. For the past two days I’ve barely slept. Instead of sleeping I’m too busy thinking about the decision I’ve made, wondering if it’s the right decision. But I have to remind myself that there is no right decision when you’re in these circumstances. Cancer isn’t black and white. There is no wrong and right when you’re ill. However, there is a right thing to do for you. Every single person who has this disease has to make sure whatever they choose will make them happy at the end of the day. It’s the only thing that matters— well, that and staying alive.

I’m not ready to die. Then again, who is? There’s still so much life left in me, and if I don’t do a damn thing and choose to ignore my illness, I’ll only end up in one place. The ground.

I’m sitting on the second floor of Ion and Mariana’s brownstone in a plush eggplant colored armchair, overlooking the street below. It’s flooding with rush hour traffic. Businesswomen are getting out of their cars and walking up to their homes. Men are coming out of town cars and doing the same. The occasional group of teenagers walk through the streets laughing alongside their friends.

Since being here memories have been flashing back through my mind. While I’ve had the pleasure of formally meeting both Mariana and Ion, I’ve also met their daughter, Bianca, who is a dotting little girl. She looks to be around ten or so, with curly hair that goes down to her lower back. It’s refreshing to have a child in this house, constantly lightening up the air and pulling me from my dark thoughts.

If anything, being here in this house, with this incredible family is causing me to think of my own. I haven’t seen them since right before I married Noah. It’s one of my biggest regrets, allowing him to push me away from my mother and father. I miss them so much.

I curse at myself, hating that I never reached out to them when I left for Miami and still haven’t. My mother is the first person I should’ve called when I found out about my diagnosis. She would’ve known everything I needed to hear and given me the best support.

At least, it’s what I’d like to think. She may hate me for not speaking to them. I just hope that they understand, that they might’ve seen the signs of what was happening to me before I ever realized it.

Looking back now, I feel dumb. I feel like the stupidest girl on the planet for going along with everything he wanted. I never questioned a thing, only doing what he asked and wanting to make him the happiest I could. Since I didn’t have a job, being the doting, beautiful wife was my goal. I assumed I was doing a good job at it until he put me down in whatever way he could. It took years to see it, though I’m happy I finally saw the light.

I pick up my white coffee cup with polka dots and take a sip of the latte I made from Mariana’s machine in the kitchen. I’m an avid coffee drinker, and her machine puts most coffee shops I’ve frequented to shame. Who knew you could get a better tasting drink by the push of one button? Whenever I move into my own place after all this passes us by, I’ll be sure to grab one of them.

It’s funny how I never really realized how many people I’ve cut out of my life until now. It’s damming in a sense, understanding all of this now when I need people the most. I don’t want to be the same woman who married Noah, drunk on the love of having a happily-ever-after. Instead, I want to be the old Bethany, the one who was a force to be reckoned with. Slowly, over the past few weeks since I’ve been away from my husband, I’ve noticed parts of myself coming back. I don’t want to lose them again. In fact, I’ll do anything to keep myself from becoming the woman that I hated.

I glance over to the right and see Leon making his way up the stairs with a smirk on his face. “What’s that smile for?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m only amused with myself. I bet Ion a bottle of chardonnay that you were up here on your perch. Looks like the bastard lost out on this one.”

Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but find the amusement in this. Since we’ve been here it looks like he’s been developing a good friendship with Ion, and honestly, I’m becoming good friends with Mariana. She’ll never replace Natasha. No one ever could, but I won’t lie that it’s nice to have another friend.

“I’ll never understand why you two make these silly bets.” They’ve been making bets about things related to Mariana, myself or Bianca. I think it’s a fun way for them to have a game about their woman and who knows them best. So far, it looks like Leon is kicking Ion’s ass. He’s now added a bottle of chardonnay to his winnings. Considering the Petrans are a couple who enjoy living in the lap of luxury, I’m betting it’ll taste pretty damn good.

“What can I say. We deal with some crazy shit and it’s nice to let loose in a fun way every now and then.”

I smile, seeing how they need some fun banter with being so serious most of the time.

“What’s the matter with you? Something seems off.” I don’t know how Leon does it, and yet he does. He’s able to analyze my facial expression and determine my mood at the drop of a hat. Shoot, I can look absolutely fine and he still figures it out.

“Nothing, really. I was thinking about the past, my friends and family to be more specific.”

“Oh, I bet that’s rough,” Leon murmurs, taking a seat on the windowsill. “You’ve never spoken to me about them, but I assumed they died, your parents I mean.”

“No, they’re not dead. I’m sure this will be so hard for you to understand, but Noah kind of pulled me away from them,” I say sarcastically, because Leon totally doesn’t know Noah was a control freak.

Leon furrows his brows and brings his hand over his chin, rubbing it like he’s deep in thought. “You haven’t talked to them in a long time, have you?”

“Nope, I sure haven’t. With everything going on, it’s making me really miss them and wish they were here.”

“They can be, if you want them to.” There’s something in the way he says it that makes me realize Leon is far more compassionate than he lets on. Over the course of knowing him he’s always appeared to be cocky, business oriented and sometimes cold. However, like an onion I’ve peeled back his layers and discovered more behind the mask that is Leon Gabor.

“We haven’t spoken in years. There’s nothing to say they would show up. I appreciate you wanting to try, though,” I say, understanding it’s not realistic they’d ever come after not speaking for this long.

“You just leave it to me, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a bit. There’s a bottle of chardonnay calling our names.” Leon says with a wink, getting off the windowsill and heads down the stairs.


Tags: Elizabeth Knox The Clans Dark