For Now (Broken Promises #1) (5 page)

Fuck, when she climbed into my lap in her car the other day I never wanted to let her go. Just her touch calms my entire body. It’s fucking insane the addiction I have to her, and she has no fucking clue.

“Lane?” Braydon’s voice cuts through my thoughts and I remember the question the doctor asked me.

“A lot,” I grunt. “They’ve been happening more and more these last few days.”

He sighs and stands, walking behind his desk and grabbing my chart. Flipping on a lightbox on the wall next to me, he slides out a scan and clears his throat.

“This here is a scan of your abdomen. The one we took last week when your pains started to flare up. The one that had you referred to me by your general practitioner.”

I nod and Braydon leans his elbows on his knees and his head rests on his hands, listening intently. Maybe having him here really is a good thing. He can definitely retain a lot, and from the looks of my mood today I’m not going to remember a lot of this. I can’t seem to focus on what he’s saying to me right now, and once he starts in on details my mind starts to blur. The doctor starts talking a thousand miles a minute, but my brain only picks out the important things.

Pancreatic Cancer

Late State

More tests

More blood

Chemo

Radiation

Holy. Fuck.

“So we need to get you set up for the PET scan and bone biopsy, Lane. Do you have your schedule available?” Schedule? No. Alexis keeps all that shit for me. She’s my fucking rock and here I am, getting the worst news I could ever have received, and she’s not even here with me.

His eyes flick to Braydon when I don’t answer.

How the fuck?

What the hell?

“Uh,” Braydon checks his phone and clears his throat. “Yea, hang on one second,” he mumbles, leaving the room.

“How long do I have?” I manage, the ball in my throat threatening to spill over and tears threatening to spill. Jesus Christ, I can’t have cancer.

I can’t die.

“There’s not really any telling until we do further tests, Lane,” he answers. Sitting in the chair next to me, he slides his glasses to the top of his head and sighs. “I know this sucks, and it’s not professional at all for me to tell you this, but I fucking hate cancer. I’d be ok if there was never another case of it… ever… even though that means I’d be out of a job. It takes what it wants when it wants. Whether it’s a ten year old girl, a twenty year old, or a ninety year old who’s lived a full life. It doesn’t care and it’s not fair.” He clears his throat. “It fucking sucks…”

I chuckle… honestly laugh because what the hell type of doctor is this? Doctors aren’t supposed to cuss or throw it at you straight. They aren’t supposed to be this… personal. Right?

“Hey, I uh… I have his schedule,” Braydon announces as he makes his way back into the room. I narrow my eyes at him, knowing full well how he got it and what he had to tell her. Shit. I feel like such an ass for not letting her in on this.

“The only pressing thing he has is Friday night, everything else can be rescheduled or canceled.”

“Good. We need to move fast, I’ll clear some slots today for you and hopefully tomorrow or the next day we can start treatment.”

“Sounds good,” I hear Bray answer as those words float around my head.

Treatment

More tests

Less work

Low quality of life.

I’ve seen people going through treatments. I can’t be like that.

“No,” I whisper. Fuck no, I can’t do this. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Shooting out of my chair, I start pacing the office, feeling all the anxiety, depression, anger, rage, and sadness flowing from my pores. “I can’t fucking do this!” I’m not even thirty years old! I’ve barely lived. I’ve never told the woman I love that I love her, and from the looks of it I’m never going to have a family or any of that shit! “I’m sorry… I… I have to go,” I murmur, opening the door and not looking back.

Alexis

“Shit” I mutter, reading the text from Braydon.

He’s on the move.

Shit.

“Hey Bray,” I answer when the call comes through. I’ve been a nervous wreck all morning… ever since Braydon called me last night, really.

----

“He’s not doing ok, Al.” His concern courses through my veins, making me anxious and sad that Lane isn’t letting me in.

“What can I do?” I whisper fragilely.

“Just be there for him. He’s not good at sharing shit and only told me because I’ve been with him from step one.”

“I wish he’d just open up to me,” I mumble.

“He will… just give him time. He’s always been… protective… of you, Al.”

“I know.”

“Listen, he’s coming back to the table. I’ll text you the details about tomorrow.”

---

So here I sit. Inside my car, in a dark parking garage, with eyes on Braydon’s car.

Of course I would be here. I couldn’t sit at home and pace the living room while these two try to tackle this alone. I really want to be inside, but Braydon wasn’t having it. He’s been texting me all morning and from the sounds of it, Lane’s a hot mess. Braydon won’t tell me anything the doctor said, but when he called for Lane’s schedule I could tell it’s not good.

“Listen, he’s only got one way home and that’s me. He just walked out of the office, refusing treatment. I really think he’s lost it,” he huffs.

“Are you running?” I ask, sitting up straighter in my car, trying to see if I can see Lane in the garage at all. Nothing yet. “What do you mean he just left?” I ask, getting out of my car to walk over to Braydon’s. “He just left.. like.. walked out?”

Treatment? He refused? Why would he do that?

“He’s in shock, Al. Just.. don’t let him do anything stupid. I’ll be right there.”

Looking around, I see a figure come out from the stairway and sigh in relief. “Shit, Bray, he’s here. I’ll see you in a few.”

“Lane!” I yell as he starts to pace back and forth in front of the stairs. He pauses and looks around, unable to tell where the voice came from. “Hey jerk!” His head whips around and his eyes hit mine.

I want to run and hold onto him, but I don’t. I don’t because I’m kind of pissed he’s held all this away from me this whole time. That’s a lot of shit to go through without telling your best friend. I’m angry, I’m sad, I’m hurt, and I’m worried.

So worried.

What if I lose my best friend before I ever get the chance to tell him I love him?

“What are you doing here?” he says, walking towards me. Hands in his pockets, worried sad eyes watching me.

“Braydon,” I whisper before the knot in my throat stops me. The small whimper that comes out of me is enough to break the stance he was holding. His shoulders droop and he moves fast just to get to me. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, then wraps his arms around me as I completely melt into him. I can’t lose him… I don’t even have him and I’m going to lose him. His arms tighten around me as he lifts me and buries his face in my neck, squeezing my body to his. I never want to let go, I never want to not touch him again.

I never want him to be out of my sight again.

But I know that’s not possible.

“Shit, Al.” He takes a breath. A breath that makes me feel like he’s giving up, than backs his head out of my neck to look at me. His eyes connect with mine and all I can think of is kissing the sadness away. I’ve never kissed him. We’ve never been this close, but right now in this embrace I feel the pull. He licks his lips, his eyes flicking to my lips then back to my eyes. It feels like he’s about to do it… like he’s about to finally make that connection I’ve been dying for for years.

“Jesus,” Braydon’s voice comes from the stairway and I see the switch in Lane flip.

He takes a deep breath, eyes still locked on mine, and shakes his head gently before whispering to me those three heartbreaking words. “I’m sorry, Al.”

Gently, he sets me on the ground and runs his hands through his hair. I feel cold. I never wanted to be put down and now that I am, now that Braydon is eyeing us like he knows something’s up, I feel like I could throw up and cry and sleep for about a week.

“Dude, what the fuck was that?” He demands, walking up to us, watching me try to compose myself. I bet there’s makeup smeared all down my face and I know I look like a hot mess. Luckily I don’t really care. These two have a lot of talking to do. They kept this from me… and that’s not ok.

“I had to get out of there, Braydon,” Lane grumbles, kicking a rock and starting to pace.

“I understand, dude… you’re just overwhelmed… but you can’t walk out of an office and refuse treatment, dude. That shit’s going to save your life!”

“What?!” Lane roars in laughter. “You really think my life is going to be saved by pumping it with poison and shit? No. Late stage Pancreatic Cancer, Bray. Not coming back from it.”

Holy shit. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me.

Late stage?

“Shit,” I huff, bracing myself against Braydon’s car. Black spots threaten my vision and I realize I’m not breathing. “Oh my God,” I whisper to myself.

“Jesus, Al,” Braydon says, rushing over to me and taking me in his arms. “I can’t believe you’ve fucking kept this from her, man. Did you not think she wasn’t going to find out?” He’s practically growling at Lane but I can’t see anything but my feet as I try to normalize my breathing. I feel like I’m gasping for air but I can’t find it.

He’s going to die.

“Oh… I… I can’t… I have to go,” I mumble, trying to get out of Braydon’s warm arms and make my way to my car. I’m about to pass out but I need to get away from this… these… emotions.

“Stop, Al. Please,” Lane’s voice cuts into my thoughts and I look up to meet his red rimmed gaze. “I’m sorry.” It’s merely a whisper but it’s just loud enough to break through the misery starting to swarm my head.

Pushing my lips together, unable to form words, a sob breaks free. I clutch my hand to my mouth, like it’s going to help hold the emotions in until I’m alone. I can’t let him see me this weak. He’s the one that has cancer. I need to be strong for him.

He looks over at Braydon, giving him a slight shake of his head, and sighs.

“I was going to tell her today, Bray. I just didn’t want her worrying if the tests all came back fine and there was nothing to worry about.”

“She’s your best friend AND manager, dude. You should’ve told her the day you found out there was a possibility of it.”

“I know.” He sighs and wraps his arms around me again, resting his chin on my head as I willingly curl into him. “Believe me, I know.”

Forcing myself to disconnect, I pull away and wipe my eyes, pissed that I’m showing myself to be so weak when I need to be the strong one. Braydon’s shaking his head and moves his gaze to the ground while Lane is watching me, seemingly afraid that I’m going to run.

“So…” I start, then take a calming breath. “Tell me everything.” I’m looking at Lane, but when the only reaction from him is a clenched jaw, my eyes flick to Braydon who’s staring Lane down. “Jesus, you two are terrible,” I mutter.

“Can we do this somewhere else?” Lane asks, glancing around. “This isn’t really… private… enough,” he whispers, watching a couple walk out to their car.

“I’m not letting you leave here without setting up your appointments.” Braydon’s voice is stern but he looks so relaxed leaning against his car. He’s ready to force Lane back inside, but he’s holding it at bay.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Braydon in the past few years, it’s not to mess with the ones he loves. He’ll do anything it takes to get Lane whatever treatment he needs… and I’ll be right there next to him helping him. We need to save our friend.

“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing Lane’s hand. When met with resistance I spin and glare at him. “Listen to me, Lane Sheridan… I’m taking your ass back inside, we’re making those fucking appointments, and if I have to move the fuck in with you in order to keep you going back and kick this cancer’s ass, I’m going to. We’re making the appointments, then we’re going back to your place so you can tell me everything the doctor said to you today.” I huff, then glare at Braydon. “Thank you for keeping me in the loop, Bray. Your ass is staying with us today, too… I’m sure Lane didn’t retain things as well as you today and I never want to be out of the loop again.”

“Al, I didn’t-” I raise my hand and stop him from protesting.

“Stop. Appointment first, discussion later.” I’m pissed, but I’m also scared and I fucking hate being scared. So instead of wallowing in self pity that the man I love has cancer, I’m strapping on my big girl panties and I’m forcing his ass to kick the ass of this demon that’s made its way into his body.

Then I’ll tell him how much I love him.

Sounds like a good plan.

By the time we set up his scans and treatments for the week it’s already dinner time and he’s had multiple pain spells. Braydon drops us off at the apartment and heads out to grab us some Thai food to give us a little alone time. We need to talk about this, and I need him to understand that just becase he has cancer doesn’t mean he’s going to die.

“You want anything to drink?” he asks from the kitchen.

“No I’m good,” I say, plopping down on the couch and grabbing a blanket. It’s not cold in here, but I have the chills and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m getting sick or that I’m seriously nervous about this conversation.

Probably the latter of the two.

“So…” he drawls out, sitting on the couch next to me. I instinctively put my legs on his lap and stretch out, resting my back on the arm of the couch. We sit like this sometimes while watching movies, so it’s nothing new, but after the parking lot incident I can’t help but feel a warmth speading to parts of my body that don’t need to be warm right now.

Like between my legs.

His hand instinctively rests on my shin and he takes a deep breath. I’m trying not to start in on him with the questions. I know he’s going to tell me everything tonight, and I know it’s all coming out… I don’t want to be the nagging friend. He takes a breath and prepares himself for the hardest thing he’s ever had to tell me.

“About a month ago I started having terrible pains… horrible. Mostly stomach pains, some full body, some back pains. They would wake me up in the middle of the night, hit me while I’m working out… there was no rhyme or reason to them. I tried changing my diet, exercise… got a new mattress topper thinking it was that. It wasn’t until Braydon caught one of my spells that he talked me into seeing a doctor.”

He takes a moment to compose his thoughts and I think back to the last month. He has been acting a little different towards me but I had assumed it’d been because he had a girlfriend he didn’t want me to know about. I’m not sure why my mind went to that, but it did, and now I feel like a horrible friend for not noticing something’s been wrong with him all this time.

“As soon as they felt around and did some blood work and saw very abnormal levels of bilirubin they knew it was beyond their practice.”

“Isn’t that something that happens with babies?” I remember a friend’s baby having the bilirubin test, but I’ve never heard of it for adults.

“It can happen with anyone, Al. It’s a chemical that can reach high levels in patients with pancreatic cancer due to blockage of the common bile duct.”

“How do you know all of this already?”

I sigh when his hands start to massage my shin gently, loving the feel of my body on his. Even if it’s just the legs, I’ll take what I can get.

“They referred me to Dr. Stanley. My appointment with him was about as fast paced as doctor appointments go… until they read the scans and the initial tests started coming back. He spent a lot of time with me going over things that day because he could see I was nervous. I guess shit like that just sticks.” He pauses and sighs, running his hands down his face before going back to my massage. “Then the biopsy happened and-”

“When?”

“When what?” He takes my foot and slips my shoe off, then gently starts rubbing my foot and I feel that heat again, right when I shouldn’t be.

“When was the biopsy?” I whisper, thinking back to last week.

“Last Thursday afternoon.” He’s not looking at me, but intently rubbing the insole of my foot and studying the way his hand glides along my skin.