I felt like my heart was breaking with every step I took. I only stopped when I found myself at the stables.
“June?” Olivia, the stable manager, came over to me. “Are you okay?”
“Can I groom Ginger?”
Olivia’s concern was evident on her face, but she nodded. “Let me get his halter.” When she retrieved it, she said, “Do you want me to get him for you?”
I looked down at my shaking hands. “Yes, please,” I whispered. As Olivia went straight into the paddock to retrieve him, I stared at my hands, that feeling of detachment tumbling back. I clenched my hands into fists, but they no longer seemed like mine.
My brain was back in protection mode—but nothing could protect me from this.
My eyes roved over the paddocks, distantly watching the trees surrounding them sway in the light breeze. I inhaled the comforting smell of horses and felt the hard ground under my feet. I needed to be grounded, to be back in my body. I needed to still feel like I was here, alive.
The sound of horseshoes on the hard ground made me lift my head. Olivia tied Ginger’s lead rope to the grooming stall and brought me the brushes. She gave me a sympathetic nod, then left me alone with Ginger. Like he knew I was racked with emotional pain, Ginger turned his head my way and I laid against his neck. He didn’t even move when my tears soaked his coat. It was like he was giving me a hug.
Forcing myself to calm, I reached for a body brush and began running it over Ginger’s body slowly and steadily, willing my heart to calm. I worked on my breathing. As I did, I tried to shift my thoughts, to hold on tightly to the 10 percent. Minutes passed, and numbness spread over me. The monotonous motion of brushing Ginger had lessened the shaking in my hands and soothed my frayed nerves.
“Junebug?”
My back was to the front of the stall, so I hadn’t seen him coming. I froze, stock-still. I couldn’t turn and look at Jesse. I couldn’t face telling him that we may be taking different roads.
“June?” he tried again, his hand softly taking hold of my elbow.
A fresh wave of fear came over me—not of dying but of not getting more time with this boy who had swept me off my feet.
“Please…look at me,” he begged.
With a long exhale, I turned and there he was. In his faded orange Longhorns T-shirt that was baby soft with so much wear, his jeans, and his backwards cap, I wanted nothing more than to melt into his embrace. He was staring at me with fear in his deep green eyes.
“It’s not good news,” I whispered, my voice trembling on every word.
Jesse paled and tried to step closer to me in comfort.
I held out my hand to stop him. He couldn’t touch me—if he did, I’d break. “Jesse.” I shook my head. “They’ve only given mea ten percent chance of the treatment working in phase two.” I gave him a watery smile. “I…I…” I ran my hand down Ginger’s neck, turning away from Jesse’s pained face and toward Ginger’s chestnut coat instead.
“June,” he tried again.
“I think this is where we have to part,” I said, hating every word that was pouring from my mouth. But I wanted Jesse to thrive. I wanted him to live. Hitching his wagon to mine would only slow his progress. He didn’t need that in his life.
“June—”
“You have a chance at beating this,” I said, cutting him off again. I was still avoiding his eyes. I couldn’t face him. I had fallen for him too hard, and this felt like splitting open my own chest and ripping out my heart. “You have a chance at making it to UT, at achieving your dreams. And you need to put all your attention into that.” Finally allowing myself to face him, I lifted my head and said, “You have achance, baby.”
Jesse took hold of my arms gently, softly, and with all the adoration I knew he felt before me. It almost shattered me. I had finally allowed myself to believe that he could want me just as I had to lose him.
When I met his eyes and gave myself permission to become lost in them just one last time, Jesse said, “I do have a chance…about ten percent.”
My eyebrows pulled down in confusion. “What?”
Jesse looked out into the distance, then, facing me again, said, “My chance at beating this,” he said, voice husky and broken, “is about ten percent too.”
I shook my head. “I’m so confused?—”
“I didn’t receive good news,” he interrupted.
My body went statue still. I struggled to breathe. “But Chris…” I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Chris said you smiled at him in the hallway after you’d been to see Dr. Duncan.You gave him a thumb’s up. Made him think your treatment was working.”
Seeing I was struggling to comprehend what had happened, Jesse said, “I wanted to tell you after your appointment, so I was going to wait out in my room until you were done. But then I saw Chris coming out of the rec room. I pretended I was on the phone to my mom to avoid him. But he saw me and was studying me for news. So, I gave him a thumbs up as I wanted to tell you when we were alone, from my own lips, not from Chris.”
