And he wished he’d behaved differently. He wished he’d told Jax how he felt when he had the chance. Maybe then they could have salvaged things.
She took a deep breath. “Lately I have been letting my own fears guide me.” Ari frowned. “My prognosis is good, but I have breast cancer.”
He felt dizzy. “What?”
“There are two lumps. The surgeon will remove them, and after some additional therapy, probably radiation, I should be absolutely fine. You’re not losing me yet.” He could hardly reconcile the words coming out of her mouth with the smooth composure of her voice and face.
“You’re sure?” His throat felt tight. This conversation barely felt real.
“As sure as a medical professional can be about this.” Her tone reminded him that medicine did not deal in certainties. “My prognosis is excellent. It was caught in a routine checkup, nice and early. They will do a lumpectomy, and I should be around for years to come.”
“Good.” He might be mad at her, but he couldn’t imagine losing her.
Now the smoothness on her face disappeared, replaced with tight lines at the corners of her mouth, her forehead, her eyes. “But cancer has a way of putting things into perspective, or maybe warping it. I suddenly felt very old and very worried about what I would and wouldn’t live to see. I wanted you to be comfortably established, to know that even if I wasn’t here, you would have someone to love and to love you. To look after you.” Wasthatwhy she’d wanted him to marry a doctor? “But I lost perspective about what was important on that front.”
That was putting it mildly, but it felt like it would be rude to point that out. “Thank you for telling me. When are you…?”
“The surgery is set for January third.”
“Oh.” So soon? Was that a bad sign?
“I should have told you weeks ago, but I didn’t want you to worry.”
Ari gave her a look. “So you decided to be weird instead?”
She made a gesture that Ari interpreted asmea culpa. This was truly the strangest family dinner in history. “I deserve that. Afra read me the riot act when I told her. You can rest easy, though—your Jax did worse.”
Hearing her say his name, suggesting that she’d talked to him, blindsided him almost as badly as the wordcancer. “Jax?”
“Hm.” She smoothed her pants and avoided his gaze. “Yes. I went to that bar.”
“Youwent to the Rock?” Was the bar still standing?
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Honestly?” She lifted her gaze and shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure, except I wanted to see him how you saw him. He was very charming on that stage. And as good-looking as ever,” she added somewhat slyly. It didn’t feel like a dig this time.
“Maman,” he warned.
“I didn’t intend to talk to him, but, well, I accidentally sat down next to Christine and got talking.”
“Christine?” Jax’s new… girlfriend? Lover? Paramour?
“You can imagine how I felt when she said she was his mother.”
Ari choked. “Hismother?”
“Yes?”
“I never knew her name,” Ari managed to strangle out, reeling.
“It was an awkward conversation, given the things I’d said to Jax’s face and vice versa.” She let out a sharp laugh, and Ari stared at her. “You know, I think I like him. He told me we had a lot in common. We’re both awful people who love you. Well, actually he used the worddicks.”
“Love?” He didn’t know where to start. Jax hadn’t started dating someone else? Jax had talked to his mother? And called her a dick?
And that was them, for lack of a better term, making up?
