A Heavenly Kind of Love

by Ostrow, Lexi

Her face dropped into sadness the moment he’d spoken. “I’m sorry. I’m not in a place where I can date right now.”

  Doing his best to remain calm, he thought through his next move. She needed comfort, she needed a friend first it would seem. “I’m offended you think I would make a move hidden behind getting my covering returned.” He feigned a frown.

  That brought the smile back to her lips. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume.” She continued walking, though backward, still looking at him as she made her way through the convention center.

  Gabe assumed she would take the street over and down to the hospital, and he wanted to chastise her for not taking the shorter walk to the red line and then over to the hospital—but she hadn’t yesterday so he’d known she wouldn’t today.

  Dangling the coat at her, he nodded when she took it. “Don’t be silly. That might have been next, once you called me, but I assure you, I’m very direct when it comes to asking women on dates.”

  Her cheeks turned pinker than on the train when he’d complimented. “It is very kind of you.” Cautiously, she pulled her pea coat off and accepted his—her fingers brushing gently over his when she did.

  “Thank you,” she awkwardly slipped her hands into the large sleeves coat. It was warm and smelled of the strangest combination—like laundry detergent and mothballs—as if the man hadn’t worn it in some time until today.

  She couldn’t remember being the presence of anyone so attractive unless they were ten feet tall on a movie screen. Removing his coat made his impossibly good looks more apparent. Tawny golden hair dusted over his shoulders, a slight wave preventing it from being stick straight. The golden highlights almost seemed unnatural, but she doubted the man dyed his hair. His face was all cheekbones, strong and masculine sort of how she pictured Greek men to be back in the days of myths. Sinewy muscle was everywhere, evident in the taut way his shirt and pants clung to his body. His arms were nearly as wide as her head, and his broad chest made her mind twirl with desire, the muscle almost ripping through the dark sweater he wore. She knew from the moment she lay her eyes on him she’d be dreaming about him tonight. Now it was even more of an issue. Yet, despite the way his body rippled with power and his classical good looks, it was his eyes to draw her attention most.

  They were green, but not something as ordinary as that. When they’d been on the train, she’d sworn different shades of the hue had swirled within his irises, and standing so close to the street doors, she could tell that was absolutely true with streaks of something close to gold too. Vibrantly dark greens seemed to dance amongst ribbons of seafoam green, the color a mesmerizing jade where the two met.

  Bundling the coat against her chin, she inhaled the funny scent and found it oddly comforting. “Thank you for this.” She wanted to add that in her condition he’d offered her the greatest kindness, but he had no need of such information.

  “It really is my pleasure. I help when I can.” He reached out to take her coat. “Why don’t you let me walk with you? I could get to know the woman who’s commandeering my coat.”

  Her chuckle slipped out. Laughter filled her, brightening her day for a fraction of a moment. She’d known her life was in danger for less than twenty-four hours and already it seemed as if all the joy from her world had been taken, and it part it had. She couldn’t do missions while undergoing treatment, and the kids were what made her life worthwhile.

  “I must warn you, aside from wet coats I come with a boring life but a handful of baggage.”

  His grin was dazzling. Cassandra was made for modeling, and not for the likes of talking with her.

  He pushed the door open. “I like boring.” With a wink, he gestured for her to head out. “After you, I don’t know where I’m going after all.”

  Again, she laughed, thoroughly enjoying the simple act of conversing with someone. Someone who is downright lickable and made for lonely nights. Cassandra hadn’t indulged in her fantasies since before Uganda, preferring not to mix business with pleasure when she was away, and it was clearly seeping into her good thoughts. Cass, he just told you he’s not interested. Snorting at herself she stepped out, hardly noticing the chill in the air as she did thanks to the enormity of the jacket that enveloped her like a blanket. No, he said that after you told him you weren’t interested.

  “So, where are you off too on such a miserable morning?”

  She hadn’t said anything about her being miserable, and for a moment, she thought he was a psychic. The weather you moron, it’s bitter cold out. Blowing out a breath, she couldn’t help but wonder if her silly behavior was thanks to her mind wandering, or if the comment had been so strange.

  “Unfortunately, I’m heading to an appointment at Mass General.” She looked at him as they walked on the sidewalk, waiting for a reaction to cross his face.

  It never did.

  “Only good things I hope. You’re far too young and beautiful to have anything to worry about.”

  The words sliced through her heart. He had no idea the weight of the phrase, or the turmoil created. Her nose burned as her eyes began to fill with tears. Stop it, Cass. Stop it right now. Again, she pushed out a breath, watching as it formed in the air and seemed to freeze before her.

  “Did I say something wrong?” The man’s voice held all the appropriate concern, but it felt strange coming from someone who had literally given her the clothing off his back but hadn’t told her his name.

  “Can I ask you something?” A homeless person huddled in blankets caused her to step away from the stranger as they turned onto Commonwealth.

  “I think that’s fair. We are getting to know one another.”

  “What’s your name?”

  His laughter rang out, seeming to shake leaves off the trees as they walked. “That, is not what I was expecting.” He stopped walking and offered her his hand. “My name is Gabriel Landon, I like Gabe though.”

  She noticed his hands were bare, but she’d some next to him on the train and felt guilty. He’d likely jumped to come to her rescue and forgotten about them. Forcing back the annoyance she felt at herself, she extended her hand and placed it in his.

  It took everything from her. There was no longer any emotion racing through her. No anger, no fear, not even the desire that had taken hold of her the minute she’d seen him on the train. The sting of the wind against her skin vanished as his hand covered around hers.

  The emptiness retreated, leaving a pleasant warmth behind. Heat from his hand and an absolute calmness that settled over her. For the first time since she’d walked into the doctor’s yesterday, all she felt peace. Her eyes slid from his to the snow. It was impossible, and yet, she felt as if she was meant to be standing here with him.

  “Cassandra Marks.”

  His lips pressed against the top of her glove. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  She felt the heat of a blush rising in her cheeks. He was handsome, had good taste in clothing and was polite. She was certainly going to be thinking about him tonight to drown out the other thoughts.

  “I have cancer.” The words blurted out, almost as she’d been compelled to tell him the truth of her trip to the hospital. “I just found out.”

  His face morphed into something she could only feel was pure sadness. The swirls of color in his eyes seemed to stop and darken his eyes to a deep hunter green. His lips were so far down turned she was amazed at the way it changed the shape of his face.

  “I am sorry to hear that.” He began to walk again, and she understood he must be uncomfortable now, though she did move quicker to catch up with the handsome stranger.

  The words were soft, and she knew he was regretting ever speaking to her.

  “I appreciate you walking with me, but as you might have guessed, I’m not interested in anything further.”

  He smiled at her though it was unlike the first time when he’d been playful. “As I mentioned, you assume a lot. Please, for now, wear it to the hospital, I’ll put my number in your phone. You
can even give me yours so I can call to ensure I get it back.”

  She knew the flush in her cheeks would be a crimson red, and she stuck her hand into her bag and passing him her phone.

  “Glitter?” he asked, taking the phone and shifting the golden case around as if mesmerized by it.

  “I find it uplifting. A good dose of glitter can go a long way when someone is having a bad day.”

  His fingers moved skillfully over the device, and he passed it back to her. “I will have to take note of that. In my line of work, it may come in handy.”

  She resisted the urge to ask him what he did for a living. They were not on a first date, they were making small talk because he was a polite gentleman in a world full of toads and had offered to walk her to her destination.

  “I think that’s not a half bad idea. I work with children, and I’ve learned whenever they are sad, a dusting of glitter brings a smile to their face.”

  “You teach?”

  She shook her head and smiled. “That requires a great deal more patience than I believe I was gifted with when I was born.” The hospital loomed ahead of them, an imposing structure of brick and glass that had never bothered her previously. “I work with orphanages.” There’s no need to deliver a sob story, you’ve already dumped you have cancer on the man.

  “Rather extraordinary.” He nodded at the building. “I believe this is your stop.” He passed her his simple black phone. “Number?”

  Not looking up, she put her digits in and passed it back.

  “Not going in?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, she wondered if deep breathing in such cold weather was dangerous for someone with cancer. Just another detail to ask on the ever-growing list of concerns.

  She shrugged. “I suppose I have too.” A sign carried on the air, but she still did not move. “Thank you, Gabe. Your kindness is appreciated more than you can realize. I promise I’ll get you your coat soon.”

  “About that, I was lying. There was never a chance I was going to let a beautiful woman out of my sight without asking you out on a date.”

  She chuckled, shaking her head. “I told you, I’m not in a place where I am looking to date.”

  “Then you must certainly be looking for a friend? Someone to lean on when your treatment gets tough?”

  If most men pushed their way into her life, she would have not so politely turned them down. Yet, with Gabe, it seemed genuine, as if he honestly would be interested in just being a companion.

  “That’s not the best idea—though I appreciate the offer. I have people to lean on, I won’t go through this alone.” A slight lie because she had no intention of telling anyone else unless it became necessary.

  “Very well then. Only a fool wouldn’t try. I’ll call for the coat tomorrow, I imagine you’ll need a spot of time to yourself after an appointment.” With a smile, he turned back the direction they had come and peered over his shoulder. “It was my pleasure to walk with you.”

  You’re going to let a great catch vanish into the air as easily as he’d appeared. Don’t be stupid. “Gabe, wait!” She walked the few steps to close the space between them on the sidewalk.

  He turned, his swirling green eyes mesmerizing her for a moment. “Yes?”

  “When I return your coat, maybe we can spend some time together. One can never have too many people in their life, especially during a trying time.”

  His grin was warm, like the rays of the sun were touching her. “You bet. Good luck today, Cassandra Marks.”

  With one last smile, she turned and went to walk up the steps. Her world was falling apart, and she found time to flirt with a perfect stranger. Maybe I can hold on to normal?

  Nine

  “How was your night?” Doctor Dresdell looked perfectly put together as she sat down on the other side of the black desk.

  Her hair was pulled back again, only this time, Cassandra saw silver streaks running along her temple. The woman might not have any wrinkles on her face, but she was older than Cassandra initially thought.

  “It went well.” Bile rose in the back of her throat. Judy arched a brow. Slumping down into the chair, she fought back the tears. “It was awful. Horrible. Every moment I spent either thinking about having cancer, or worrying what in my daily life would make the cancer worse.” She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath in an attempt to control her emotions. It failed, sending down her face as she gasped for air.

  “It’s all right. I would have been concerned if it were any other way.” She gestured to a tissue box on the corner of her desk. “Part of your treatment is going to be a therapist or a group. You cannot do this on your own. Friends and family are wonderful, but you need to engage with others who understand you. There is a support group with the hospital, but you may, of course, seek out your own on the internet; just make certain you meet in person at times.”

  “Isn’t that a bit . . . morbid? To surround myself with others who are fighting to live?”

  “At times, yes. They will offer you insight into yourself that no one else can have. Their struggles will hurt you at times as yours will theirs. But their victories will fuel you. Cancer isn’t just treatment, it’s a mental fight. You have to want to live more than you want to give in and hope it passes.”

  Anger brewed at the implication she didn’t want to live. “How dare you?”

  A smile twitched at the corner of the doctor’s mouth and it stopped Cassandra from continuing on her rant.

  “That is the fire you will need. I apologize you thought I was inferring you weren’t ready to fight, but I am pleased with your response. Are you ready to begin?”

  Confusion warred with anger, but somehow, Cassandra knew neither emotion had any place in her world right now. “Yes. I did what you mentioned yesterday, and I’d like to know what’s next.”

  “What’s next,” Judy tapped on a file on the desk with Cassandra’s name on it before flipping it open. “Is covering a possible treatment plan. I don’t know if you went on a Google binge, or requested help on social media, but I need you to understand that every treatment plan is different. What we do for you won’t match the doses and steps we do for someone else with Stage Three Non Invasive Breast Cancer. This is tailored to your body.”

  The words fuzzed out for a moment, and the doctor sounded like the teacher in Charlie Brown.

  “Cassandra, are you with me?”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I just need you to acknowledge that you aren’t going to go and compare what we do with what anyone else has had done. This treatment plan is for you, Cassandra Marks, and you alone.”

  She’d heard that before, on some show where the lead had cancer. “Yes, I understand.”

  “Good. We need to run a blood test to ensure your body can handle this, of course, but this is our expected course of action.”

  Cassandra looked at the typed up pages and bobbed sideways from a surge of unexpected wooziness. She could tell she was upright, but her body seemed to sway back and forth as the room blurred in and out of focus.

  “I don’t feel so great.”

  “That’s all right. It’s natural to feel overwhelmed. We’ll go very slowly. Just take deep breaths.”

  What she wanted to do was lay back on a plush bed, close her eyes and wake up healthy. Instead, she sucked in a lungful of air and held it until her chest burned with the need to exhale. “Ready as I can be.”

  “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you chemotherapy is a part of the plan. The reason we start here is to see if the cancer is receptive. There’s no sense in a mastectomy if the chemo will do what we need it too. You will be on outpatient care to start, not the dreaded hospital stay some people go through. There will be four rounds of chemo over the next two months. Each round will be three hours. Does this make sense?”

  The numbers swirled in her head, they meant nothing to her, but they should have been everything. “So I come in, you stick an IV my arm, and I sit with a boo
k for three hours? What happens when I leave? What about after these four treatments? What do I do to prepare? How many times do we try this?” Her heart slammed in her chest so loudly she swore she could hear it.

  “Slow down.” Judy’s tone was polite, and understanding splashed across her face. “This is common. Try to focus on my voice. We can cover questions as we go, one at a time.”

  Hot liquid rose in the back of Cassandra’s mouth, one of the signs she might vomit. Swallowing the salvia back, Cassandra closed her eyes and took two deep breaths. “All right, I think.”

  “Now, this chemo will be aggressive. I don’t want it to scare you. It’s going to be a mix of Adrimaycin and Cytoxin. I know you’ll go Google these, and I know you’ll stumble across the term Red Devil. I don’t want you to be alarmed, but it is because of the side effects. Your hair will fall out. It’s not a matter of if, but when. Typically, it starts small and escalates quickly during the second month of treatment. Many of my patients elect to shave their hair so it’s easy to cope with. My recommendation is to do what’s best for you. Only you know how important your hair is to you. You will be nauseous at times, experience a lack of appetite and the potential for sleep loss and mouth sores is common.” Judy grew quiet, her brows knitting together. “Cassandra. Try to focus.”

  “Red Devil.”

  “Yes. It’s nasty, but it’s your fighting chance. This drug is powerful, and that means side effects. But it means results as well. And we can fight off many of the side effects. Your IV will have a steroid bag to help control your stomach, it’s not infallible, but it helps greatly.”

  “And this will take it away? The cancer I mean.”

  Doctor Dresdell sighed, her shoulders slumping, and a frown tugged down the corners of her lips. “This will help, there are no guarantees with cancer—and there is more to your initial treatment.” The other woman did something unexpected, she stood up and walked to stand before Cassandra, squatting down. “This is a lot to take in. It’s necessary though. Do you need some time to digest this?”