I inhale deeply through my nose but can’t seem to catch my breath. Zac’s hand finds my knee, his thumb grazing my bare skin through the rip in my jeans.
‘So, did you hear about the dung beetle who walked into a bar?’ he asks. I roll my eyes at him. ‘He said to the bartender: Is this stool taken?’
I just stare at him before a laugh flies out of my chest, catching a few glances from those in the waiting room. I hook my arm around Zac’s and lean into him.
A nurse strides in clutching a clipboard, and bile shoots up into my throat. But the name she calls out isn’t mine.
Zac moves his lips to my ear. ‘Listen to me,’ he says softly. ‘There is a monster in your head right now whispering a whole bunch of bullshit. It’s trying to scare you with made-up stories. Don’t listen to it, OK? Listen to me.’ He gently holds my jaw and guides me to look him in the eyes. ‘I know you,’ he says. ‘I love you. You are not alone. You’re not getting tested today,weare. And whatever happens, we’re going to figure it out together.’
My entire body buzzes with warmth. His face is so close to mine that he’d only need to tilt forward a touch for our mouths to collide. But instead, he raises his lips to my forehead. ‘I’ve got you, sunbeam,’ he says into my skin.
My drained eyes fall closed. ‘I’m not a sunbeam. I’m a cloud. One of those horrible, purple ones you see right before a storm that looks like the harbinger of Armageddon.’
He pulls back with an amused smile. ‘Nope. I’ve told you before. Looking at you is like staring right into the sun … so bright, it’s blinding.’
Our gazes bind together, a soft feeling expanding in my chest. As much as I know I should look away from him, I can’t.
‘I love you too,’ I say in a breath, and his cheeks flush.
Are we talking friendship love?I want to ask before a voice booms from across the room.
‘Josephine Larsen!’
I gasp as Zac lurches to his feet, pulling me up with clammy fingers. The fact that his nerves are spiking nearly as much as my own should make me feel worse, but for some reason, his outbreak of the jitters makes me feel like less of a freak.
‘I’ll see you back out here?’ he guesses.
I clutch him with both hands. ‘Can you come in with me?’
‘Of course.’
Holding on to Zac like a lifeline, I brave a smile at the waiting nurse and follow her into the examination room. Zac turns his back while I change into the gown, and when I stretch out on the treatment bed, he drags a chair close.
The radiographer paces back in with my file, checking my details and explaining what will happen during the scan.
My arm instinctively falls towards Zac, and his fingers cover mine as the nurse squeezes warmed gel over my chest. Her ultrasound wand finds the lump immediately, and my eyes lock on her expression, my heart drumming against my throat as I wait for her reaction. But as shepresses, tilts and glides the wand over the lump, I can’t get a read on what she’s thinking.
‘Do you think it’s cancer?’ I utter, and Zac squeezes my hand.
An apologetic look eclipses her face. ‘Unfortunately, I’m not qualified to answer that, nor am I allowed to. A doctor needs to look closely at the scans and measurements. But I can make sure you get your results by tomorrow afternoon, OK? One thing I can say is that this lump is small.’
A whisper of hope flurries through me, and I thank her and lie in silence while she continues gliding, clicking and measuring, my gaze drifting to Zac’s. He winks at me, still holding my hand, and I tighten my fingers around his.
‘I love you,’ he mouths at me, and hot liquid gushes into my chest, filling it up.
I smile and mouth the same words back, but in my head, there’s an edit that I keep to myself.
I’min lovewith you.
My eyes sink shut, my mind finally able to prepare for the next step in my health journey. Because one thing I’d never considered when I started believing I was going to get cancer was that Zac Jameson would be holding my hand.
I keep my phone beside me in the serviced apartment bathroom while I get ready for work, the ringer turnedall the way up. The debate I had with Zac yesterday over staying at his place lasted nearly thirty minutes, but I held my ground. Despite what happened at the clinic, he hasn’t said anything to indicate he wants something more than friendship right now, and my heart can only take so much.
He also tried to convince me to take today off, but I’d go out of my mind sitting around waiting for the doctor to call. Plus, it’s my second-last week at NRN News, and I must have some seriously good karma in my spiritual bank because Natasha Harrington actually wants me in the newsroom. I also can’t wait to see Lola when she gets back tomorrow—she’ll no doubt have a big hug ready for me after the viral video debacle.
Christina calls me on my short walk to work, restoring my smile.
‘Hey, baby mumma,’ I say.
