One movement from my mother, a small step back, showed me the truth in her soul: she wanted what was best for me. She touched a hand to my shoulder and whispered, “I’ll be outside.”
Then she motioned for everyone to follow her. And Harvey, Brey, and Jax didn’t argue.
Jett sighed and hung his head, still encircling me with his body. Then he sat back down and took my hand in his.
“Jett, I—”
“No, Pix.” He squeezed his eyes shut like my voice physically caused him pain. “Don’t say a damn word. Just be, woman. Just be.”
I shut my mouth. An ocean of fear rolled in and swept me into the anguish and helplessness of lying there listening. The waves washed up memories of other hospitals, of waking up to loved ones beside me and not knowing how to soothe them when all I wanted was to be alone and soothe myself.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound I never wanted to hear again but the sound I couldn’t escape. It was the sound I covered up with awe-inspiring experiences so as not to remember the miserable ones.
My first tear dropped. And the ocean, dark and deep with all my anxieties and pain, dragged out every tear out thereafter. I gasped for air, trying to center myself, trying to stop the tears.
I glanced at Jett who still held my hand. His face hadn’t changed; he looked unmoved, unshaken. Like a lighthouse. Strong enough to withstand the most violent storm and still guide me, be there for me, stand tall for me.
“Let it all out, Victory. They’re going to come back in here and you’re going to want to make them all happy again. I’ll probably have to leave. I’m not sure I have the patience for any more of it today.”
I laughed and it turned into a hiccup and then a cry again. He squeezed my hand and nodded as more sobs racked my body. I was down in the depths of a sea so cold and black with the misery I’d pushed down there for years that I don’t know how long I cried.
He sat there with me the whole time, his hair mussed, his blue eyes steady, and his broad chest hunched over my bedside. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and I saw that watch ticking away in sync with the beeping in the room. The sound faded as I stared at my Phantom, the man who’d finally set my voice free. His thumb tapped the back of my hand in time to the beep and his stare switched between me and the door, as if to watch for any unauthorized entry.
I squeezed his hand as my crying subsided. “Thank you for letting me fall apart.”
“Hm. Still fucking beautiful in the hospital light, even after crying for what must have been at least an hour,” he stated, like he was reading the news.
I smiled because I loved his compliments even if they were shrouded in insults. “Thank you, Phantom.”
He smiled back. “Thank you for letting me see you fall apart for once. Your enthusiasm for life is draining.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s either love life or fear it.”
Those words sunk in, penetrating my soul, taking root and growing quickly into the mantra I knew I would live by. I’d just seen my parents, the man I loved, and my best friend here to stand with me. I could fight whatever the doctors said, I could move another mountain of sickness if I needed to, because I had people that cared about me, that would fight with me.
Life was worth the struggle, worth the pain, worth the anguish when you shared it with others, when you saw fear and stared it down before barreling forward. Fear was a ferocious monster, meant to tower over you, drain you of your courage, and rob you of your life. You had to meet fear with your own ruthless vigor to live, stand taller, and beat it into submission.
I was a Blakely, and as I laid there listening to the beeping, encountering the fear again, I knew I was stronger.
I squeezed Jett’s hand. “I’m choosing to love life.”
“You don’t just love life, you tempt death and stare it in the face, woman.” He grunted. “I still think you have a death wish, and I’m not looking forward to protecting you from it.”
His words alluded to a future for us, one I wasn’t sure he wanted even if he was here. My heartbeat picked up, my palms started to sweat. I pulled my hand from him and folded it into my other hand to hide my worry.
“Look,” I began. “All cards on the table?”
The smirk that flickered across his face didn’t help my anxiety. “Sure, Pix. Hit me.”
I let out a shaky breath. “We’re probably over.” I glanced at him, and he didn’t deny it. My heart plummeted but I kept on. “I can’t give anyone an amazing relationship or a great love story with my health issues.”
“Are you going to apologize for telling Bastian about your cancer before you told me?”
“What?” I stuttered.
“It’s really all I want.” He glanced at the clock. “I missed my flight to New York for you today.”