Jeremy’s expression turned serious and he opened his mouth but was cut short when Dr. Kaplan knocked on the door before entering.
“Emilia, Jeremy,” Dr. Kaplan greeted us. She was the OBGYN who had delivered Lyra, and my saving grace in that situation. I only hoped she could be the same with whatever news she was about to deliver. “It's a pleasure to see you both again,” Dr. Kaplan said in a monotone voice and my stomach coiled into itself. Every other time I’d seen her she’d been so cheerful. My heartbeat accelerated with panic, and I reached for Jeremy’s hand for some kind of comfort.
"Dr. Kaplan, what is it?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
She sighed, gave an understanding nod and opened my file. Her eyes scanned the papers inside. "Your blood levels for your CA 125 test were high. Based on the pap smear and the pelvic ultra sound we have, I'd like to refer you to an oncologist."
The last word hit me like a thousand pound brick right to the chest, and all the air was ripped from my lungs. My body went numb and I felt like I was becoming one with the chair. I couldn’t move a single muscle, one finger, let alone think of anything but one word.
Cancer…
Cancer…
Cancer…
Dr. Kaplan’s mouth moved as she continued to explain my results, but the sound of her voice was replaced with my own thoughts of doom, and I could no longer hear was she was saying.
I had cancer.
It was inevitable that every human being would die. But I was going to die sooner than most. I was going to leave my little girl behind. I wouldn’t get to see her get married or grow old. I’d miss everything. I was going to miss out on Lyra's life just like my own mother had missed out on mine.
For the first time since I received my fate, I felt something other than numbness as Jeremy’s grip tightened around my hand. Dazed and confused, I looked over at him. He was speaking to Dr. Kaplan, but my mind refused to focus on what they were saying. I watched as Dr. Kaplan handed Jeremy a piece of paper, which I assumed was a referral for the oncologist before we left her office. Somehow, Jeremy managed to get me through the office and to the car.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t hear.
But I could taste the bile in the back of my throat.
I have cancer. I have cancer. I have fucking cancer.
"Em..." Jeremy's voice was low, but at least I had heard it, which meant that my hearing was back. We were sitting in my car, but I couldn’t remember how we had gotten here or how long we had been there. I looked over at him and blinked. His body was turned in the driver’s seat so he could face me. His eyes were laced with sadness and worry. He looked downright scared, but I honestly didn't care. I had no regard for his feelings.
This was all his fault.
For months I’d injected myself with hormones for him.
The cancer cells were mutating, destroying my body, essentially killing me, and it was all because he wanted a child. Jeremy couldn't fathom the idea of sharing Lyra with Weston. And because I felt guilty, I agreed to the medication. I agreed to the injections. For six months, I was feeding my body with hormones for him.
I tore my gaze away from his and stared over at the car parked next to me. I couldn’t look at him. Not when hatred started to spread through my veins, mixing with the cancer inside of me.
Jeremy grabbed my hand and entwined our fingers together, my eyes still refusing to meet his. “Talk to me. You haven’t said one word.” There was hope in his voice, but all I could do was shake my head. “We're going to get through this.”
I didn’t want to listen to his promise, so I shook my head harder.
“Emilia, say something,” he pleaded, but there was nothing left to say. Couldn’t he understand that? “Emmy, please,” he begged once more, tugging at my hands. “Say something. Tell me you're okay.”
Okay?
He wanted to know if I was okay?
My neck stiffened and I yanked my hands away from his. The silence inside of me broke and I cried out. “This is all your fault!”
Jeremy flinched from the power of my voice. “Emmy,” he sighed.
“I was healthy. My tests had come back healthy.” My hands balled at my sides. “Lyra was a miracle child. She was the most beautiful accident that could've happened to me, but that's what she was she was—an accident I was never supposed to get pregnant!” I snapped my head in his direction. “But because of you, because you wanted a child, I did this to myself. Months of hormone therapy! Because you wanted a child, I have fucking cancer.” The anger I couldn't contain had my body shaking.
“Emilia, you're shocked. You're sad. You're angry.” He said each sentence in a calm voice. “Let's get you home and we'll talk about this.”
I didn’t argue. Jeremy drove us home solely for the fact that I don't think I would have made it on my own. My mind wasn’t in the right place, but as he drove a few miles between the doctors’ office and the condo, I kept replaying the last six months in my mind.
Injection after injection.
My gazed locked with the Sold sign that stood outside our condos. We had recently put in an offer for our dream home. A home where we wanted to raise our family. I had always been so safe with every decision I made. I had always put Lyra's best interests first. She was my number one priority, but recently I’d been in a fog, unable to see the few steps ahead of me.
And now I had cancer.
How was I going to tell Lyra?
Who would watch over her?
Jeremy shifted the car into park and turned in his seat to face me. “Emilia, talk to me.” His voice seemed desperate.
I blinked away a tear and turned slowly to face him. Lyra was the only one who mattered, and I had put her happiness in jeopardy. “I want a divorce.” The words poured out of me.
“What?” Jeremy asked with furrowed brows.
“I don't want to be married to you anymore.” I shook my head slowly.
“Emmy, you’re not thinking straight.”
“I want you out of my life. Out of my daughter's life. I have fucking cancer! My mother died of cancer! I'm going to die of cancer, and it's all your goddamn fault!” My hand fought with the door handle to open the car door. “I don’t want to be married to you because every single time I look at you, it will remind me that this is happening because you’re a selfish-ass prick!”
I shoved the door open and got out of the car. Walking into my condo, I slammed the door behind me. The house was in shambles. Boxes were everywhere, ready for the movers in the morning. I dropped on the couch and cried.
58
EMILIA
It was a week before Lyra's fifth birthday when I had my first appointment with the oncologist. I didn't tell a soul about the cancer. I’d lay in bed hoping that it was all a horrific nightmare that I would eventually wake from. I drove Lyra to school that morning, walked her to her classroom, and then headed to my appointment.
Dr. Kaplan had sent over my lab results and the biopsy I had done a few days prior. I sat in Dr. Marino's office and waited for him to arrive with news. This time I was alone there was no Jeremy to hold my hand.
I was completely alone.
I felt numb. I felt like every second that passed it was a second I would never get back. Lost moments. Precious time wasted as I waited for my death sentence.
Dr. Scott Marino walked into his office with a small smile on his face. He was an older gentle with peppered hair. His hand was soft when he reached out to greet me. “Hello, Emilia. I’m Dr. Marino.”
“Hi.”
I didn't want to talk. I just wanted to know how long I had left.
He cleared his throat and sat on the chair across from me. Flipping opened the folder, he skimmed it before looking up at me. “You have stage ii endometrial carcinoma. It's also known as uterine cancer. We've caught it early enough that I would advise you to have a partial hysterectomy followed by chemo and radiation.”
He paused and I nodded because I didn't know what else to do.
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“I want to schedule your surgery right away. It will be aggressive, and you’ll need a support system. Will your husband be joining us?”
Sucking my lower lip between my teeth, I shook my head. “I'm filing for divorce.”
Dr. Marino paused for a second and I could see empathy in his eyes. “Family, friends, whoever it may be, you're going to need a support system.”
“I don't have any of that.” Tears blurred my vision. I hadn't told a soul about the cancer. “I just have a daughter who is only five years old and I have no idea how to tell her that her mommy is sick.” I lowered my head and glanced at my jeans. “I lost my mother to cancer, and my father committed suicide a year later, so it's just her and me.”
He scratched the back on his head and sighed. “Okay. Do you have someone to bring you to surgery and take you home?”
“Yeah,” I responded.
“Okay, good.”
59
WESTON
After debating over the past few months exactly where I wanted to purchase it, I finally got my shit together and bought a home. I needed it to be close and accessible to Lyra, but I didn’t want to be in the same neighborhood as Emilia and Jeremy which meant waiting until they bought theirs. Sandra, the interior decorator, had just added her final touch to Lyra’s princess bedroom. I closed the door behind her as we exited the transformed room.
“Thank you for everything.” I pulled the front door open.
“If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to call.”
Lyra’s fifth birthday was in a few days and I planned to surprise her with the perfect bedroom.
I walked into the kitchen and pulled open my empty fridge. I needed to submit another order to the online grocery service. I scrolled through my phone and noticed I had a new email from SoCal asking the band to come in for a meeting regarding a change in management. Odd. It wasn't as if the band was touring or working on a new album. Axel was enjoying being a father, Pete was dealing with his father’s dementia, and Travis had taken his money and decided he would backpack through Asia. Over the past year, I’d collaborated with a few other artists, but mostly I spent my time with Lyra or in the studio producing new music.
I logged off my email and the screen of my cell phone lit up with an unread text message from Emilia.
Emilia: Lyra has a physical at the doctor’s office. Do you want to come?
Me: Is everything okay?
Emilia: It's just a yearly check up. If you're busy, it's okay.
Me: No, I'll be there.
Over the past year, Emilia and I had communicated via text message. After Lyra’s fourth birthday, I’d made it a point to pull myself away. We shared joint custody of Lyra, and we both participated in her extracurricular activities. They had recently moved out of their condo and into a beautiful home in South Laguna Beach, but that was the extent of what I knew about her personal life. I didn’t care to ask whether she was pregnant with Jeremy’s baby, and the majority of the time Jeremy was the one who picked up Lyra when she was with me.
Emilia sent me the doctor’s address and I added it to my calendar.
Tuesday afternoon, I slid my car into a parking spot at Laguna Pediatrics. I was ten minutes early to Lyra's doctor’s appointment. She had minor colds over the past year but nothing that required me to come here before. Emilia pulled into the parking spot next to mine and the back door flung open. I hopped out of my car and was greeted by my little princess.
“Daddy!” she yelled, running toward me, her little arms waving over her head. She jumped into my arms and hugged my neck. “I missed you, Daddy.” Lyra was a kinder spirit than myself. She loved everything and everyone, she was friendly, and, like her mother, she had the most beautiful smile.
“I missed you more, princess.”
“Did you finish my surprise?” She scanned my eyes for answers.
“I did. And you’re going to love it!” I tickled her and she squealed.
Emilia walked around the car and gave me a soft smile. It had been a couple of weeks since I’d seen her and she had drastically changed. She was thinner, which surprised me, and she had dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn’t slept in days.
“You good?” I asked. I noticed her throat bob up and down as she swallowed her emotion and she nodded. “You ready?” Her voice seemed weak and I knew she was masking it with happiness. I'd only spent a year with her, but in that year, I managed to learn every possible tone her voice had. “If I don't cry when I get my shots do we get ice cream?” Lyra gave her mom the biggest puppy eyed look I'd ever seen.
“You bet.” Emilia pulled back the door for us. “And we can even go to your favorite froyo spot and you can fill up the cup with as many gummy bears and chocolate chips as you want.”
Lyra blinked dramatically as she turned to look at me. “Daddy, will you help me be brave so I can get chocolate chips and gummy bears?”
I chuckled. This kid was more excited about chocolate chips and gummy bears than the actual ice cream. “I will hold your hand the entire time.”
Emilia checked us in and we were taken back to a private room. The nurse came in shortly afterward and measured Lyra’s height and took her weight. After she’d left, Lyra sat on the examination table swinging her feet and telling me how excited she was to start kindergarten. She was nervous but refused to let it show.
I looked over at Emilia. She seemed distant and sad. There was a look in her eyes I couldn’t place, but before I had a chance to open my mouth and ask, the doctor opened the room door.
“Hey, Lyra,” Dr. Garcia said. “I can’t believe you’re almost five!” She walked over to Lyra and handed her a stress ball. “If you get scared, squeeze this tightly.” Dr. Garcia patted her on the head and then looked over at me. “You must be Lyra’s father.” Her smile was bright and kind. “It's a pleasure to meet you.” She looked over at Emilia and placed her hand on her shoulder. “Jeremy's not joining us today?” Bitterness trickled down my spine. For once we were doing something together and he wasn't here. He didn’t always have to be around my family. Over the past year, I’d gotten over Jeremy being like a father to Lyra. He had been with her since she was born and he was a prominent figure in her life. Jeremy was a good guy, and we got along when we were together, but deep down I hated him because he got both of my girls.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t over the fact he was a father figure for Lyra.
“No, Jeremy’s at work,” Emilia explained.
Dr. Garcia nodded and turned back to Lyra. Okay, you ready, buttercup?” Lyra nodded. “I’ll examine you, and then I’ll get the two syringes that are filled with a special vaccination that will prepare you for kindergarten. Do you think you can be a brave girl when I get those syringes?”
“Mommy promised me all the chocolate chips and all the gummy bears I can fit in my bowl, and Daddy said he's gonna hold my hand so I'm brave. I'm ready for my shots, Doctor G.”
Dr. Garcia laughed and began to examine her. I stood next to Lyra, holding her hand as she stayed strong and brave through both of her shots. After Dr. Garcia was finished and we were gathering our stuff, Lyra hopped off the examination table.
“I want chocolate and vanilla ice cream,” she said, looking at Emilia, Lyra spun around quickly and looked over at me. “You're coming too, right?”
“Um . . .” I met Emilia’s gaze. I hadn’t been invited for ice cream and I didn't want to impose.
“If you're free, it would be nice.” She shrugged.
“For you, Lyra, I’m always free.” I pulled the door to the doctor’s office open. “Let's go get some ice cream.” Lyra giggled and skipped as we walked outside.
Lyra hopped in the car with me and we followed behind Emilia until we arrived at a self–serve frozen yogurt shop. Lyra swung her feet in the backseat and sang to the song that was playing on the radio.
Emilia wasn't lying when she allowed Lyra to get whatever toppings she wanted. They both filled their cups with brownies and
cookies to very little ice cream. We sat at a round table where Lyra began to tell me how little the shots hurt and from one topic she jumped to another. I looked over at Emilia, who seemed to follow the conversation. Her smile was warm and her gloomy face shone with life. But something was bothering her.
“Daddy, is Mama and Granny and Pop Pop coming to my birthday again?” she asked and shoved a spoonful of gummy bears in her mouth.
Emilia reached across the table and wiped Lyra’s face. “No, princess. Mama hurt her back and she can't fly down.”
“Oh. But they won't be there to see my special surprise?” Her eyelashes hooded over her eyes.
I reached for her hand. “She'll come down a different day.”
“You can always take Lyra there,” Emilia interjected.
“Really?” I was unable to mask the surprise in my voice.
She pulled the plastic spoon from her lips. “Yeah. If you want to take her, of course. We're doing breakfast at the American Girl store, followed by a VIP tour of Disney, so if you want to take her after . . .”
“Can we, Daddy? Can we go see Granny?” She held both of her hands under her chin.
“Yes, if that's what you want.”
She nodded eagerly and looked over at Emilia. “Mommy, can I get something to drink?” Lyra pointed to the bottles of water in the cooler. Emilia nodded and looked over at me when Lyra scooted away.
“I need to talk to you about work.” She moved her ice cream around the paper bowl.
“Shoot.”
“I quit SoCal. You should have gotten an email.” She put another spoonful in her mouth.
“You what?”
“You won't even notice I'm gone.”
“Em . . .”
“Don't fight me on this. The commute was killing me, and there’s no need for me to work those crazy hours. My parents left me enough money that I don’t need to work, and I want to spend more time with Lyra before she starts school. You won't even know I'm gone.” Her voice cracked toward the end. Before I could ask her what the real problem was Lyra returned to our side, so I dropped the argument.
Love Letter Duet: The Encore Edition Page 33
