by Clara James
It was then that Allie realized she couldn’t in all honesty say she felt the same. There was something she regretted. Something she would regret, until the cancer ended all regrets. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you,” she softly announced.
“You don’t have to,” Reece told her, shaking his head, as he slowly pulled his flaccid member from her.
“No, I do,” she quickly countered, mourning the loss of him, as his body slickly left hers. “Please, Reece,” she begged, grasping his forearms and hurriedly sitting up.
“Allie,” he sorrowfully sighed. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“It will for me,” she insisted. “I don’t want you to leave without knowing why. I don’t want to push you away like this.” Allie’s words came quickly and coherently, much more coherently than her brain was functioning. “I…” she stumbled, her words suddenly lodged in her throat by unshed tears. “There’s something…” she attempted again, but halted when her vision blurred and unruly droplets spilled onto her cheeks.
Easing himself away from her, Reece sat down on the bed by her side. Allie instantly, turned to him and crawled onto his lap. He didn’t fight her, and as she settled, he wrapped his arms around her middle.
“I’m sick,” Allie sobbed quietly into his chest.
Reece only just understood her muffled words. “Okay,” he responded, at a loss as to how that fitted into the situation.
“I’m really sick,” she continued.
“I don’t…” Reece mumbled, shaking his head in confusion.
“I wanted to live the life that I’d missed out on,” she cried. “To make sure I had no regrets, so I started seeing men from my past.”
Reece remained silent and baffled. However, the last part of her sentence was quickly filed away as important to clarify, when she was able to speak with full sentences.
“It was just meant to be sex,” she sniffed, lifting her face to his.
Realizing that he probably no longer needed clarification, Reece suddenly felt very uncomfortable with where her confession was heading.
“I didn’t…I didn’t bargain on the way I feel about you,” she explained. “I want you, Reece,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks, which were just as quickly replaced with fresh ones. “But I know we can’t be together.” The world began to spin again and Allie was forced to close her eyes. “I can’t do that to you,” she murmured. “I can’t hurt you.”
“Allie,” Reece soothed, one palm slowly circling her back, while the fingers of his other head massaged her slender thigh. “I’m not sure I understand.”
Opening her eyes, Allie tried to focus on him. “I’m sick, Reece,” she repeated. “I’ve got leukemia,” she added. “I’m dying.”
Reece’s mouth fell open, as he felt Allie’s head flop back onto his shoulder. “I don’t…” he whispered. “You can’t…” he fumbled. “Allie.” He spoke her name reverently, as he pulled her tightly against his chest. It was only then that he wondered why she’d gone suddenly quiet. The tears had stopped. “Allie,” he nudged, lifting her face to him and finding her head much heavier than it should be. “Allie,” he repeated, panicked by her closed eyes and listless form. “Allie,” he tried more urgently, as he scooped her off his lap and laid her out on the bed.
Quickly, Reece placed his ear next to her mouth and was glad to feel soft, shallow breaths. His eyes landing on the jeans he’d abandoned by the edge of the bed, he leapt for them and started to turn each pocket inside out. Eventually, he grasped his cell phone and punched three hurried numbers. “Come on, come on,” he quietly muttered. “Yes,” he sighed with relief when the call was answered. “I need an ambulance.”
HER LAST LOVE AFFAIR: BREATHING WITHOUT YOU
BY
CLARA JAMES
Copyright © 2013 by Clara James
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Her Last Love Affair II: Breathing Without You
All rights reserved.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording and faxing, or by any information storage and retrieval system by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use.
This Book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Clara James, except in the case of a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages for the sake of a review written for inclusions in a magazine, newspaper, or journal—and these cases require written approval from Clara James prior to publication. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
PROLOGUE
Allie McLaren has spent her entire life striving for one goal: to be the best in her chosen profession. It drove her to work much harder than any of her classmates at school, it caused her to devote hours of free time to her internship, it prompted her to lose any semblance of a social life she might have had. But she succeeded. By the age of thirty one, she had become a highly respected investigative journalist; considered unorthodox and ‘difficult’ by some, but regarded as one of the very best by almost all.
Life seemed to be working out just as she had planned, until the day she discovered she’s suffering from leukemia. Suddenly, she began questioning the path she’d taken, the choices she’d made and the opportunities she’d missed. Determined to make up for the fact she’d spent her early adulthood avoiding the fun her peers had enjoyed, she decided to live the rest of her life very differently.
Allie wants to experience sex with no strings – something she could never do before, but something made instantly easier by the death sentence hanging over her. She set about reconnected with old flames; guys who had been interested in her, but she’d never had time for and even a few she did have brief relationships with. She enjoyed the freedom of sexual expression with no guilt, no shame and no sense that she was damaging her future. But then she made the mistake of agreeing to meet up with Reece, her first boyfriend and the man who had taken her virginity.
Despite her personal rule to only see each man once, she couldn’t stop thinking about Reece and slept with him several times – swearing silently, every night, that it would be the last. Eventually, tired of lying to him about the bruises he’d noticed and the weight that had been dropping off her; she broke down and told him that she’s ill. After the emotional confession, she lost consciousness.
CHAPTER ONE
STUBBORN
Her mouth felt very dry, as though it were stuffed full of cotton wool. Unconsciously, her parched tongue darted over even drier lips and she muttered groggily. Her eyelids felt incredibly heavy as she attempted to prize them open.
“Allie,” a gentle, deep voice mumbled. To her, the sound of her name seemed thousands of miles away. But it was also familiar, she was sure she’d heard it spoken that way before. Unsure why, she found herself comforted by it. “Allie,” the voice repeated, this time she detected a desperation in it.
Struggling, she wrenched her eyes open and was instantly blinded by a bright light, which was reflected off plain, clinically white walls. Blinking back the spots that danced on her over her vision, she moaned in protest at the sensory assault. “Wh-” she grumbled, the instinct to close her eyes waging war with the one that demanded she find out what was going on. Then the world began to slip sluggishly into focus. She found herself peering down at her own arm; at least it looked like her arm. There was a small, white plastic tube attached to the inside of her elbow and two lines running from it. Her gaze followed those lines, down a stretch of blue bedspread and then up an aluminum IV pole. Finally, her eyes found the clear plastic bags where th
e trail from her arm stopped.
“Allie,” the voice nudged again, while warm fingers grasped her wrist. “Can you hear me?”
Confusion was evident on her features as she turned towards the sound. When she managed to lift her focus to Reece’s face, realization dawned. She remembered the heavy blackness that descended on her, but she also remembered exactly what had happened before that. “Hi,” she tried to mutter, her mouth uncooperative and her throat coarse.
“You need a drink?” he asked, already pushing himself to his feet and reaching for a jug that stood on a bedside table.
Allie couldn’t tell how long she’d been in the hospital bed, but she recognized Reece’s clothes as the ones he’d worn when he came to her apartment; the ones that were stripped off just before they’d made love. And clearly they had been tossed back on in a hurry, because his shirt was inside out. She watched his hand tremble slightly, as he poured some water into a paper cup and then brought it to her lips. Gratefully, she parted them and allowed him to pour the liquid into her mouth. It was a little warm, but it was the best water she’d ever tasted. “Ahh,” she sighed, leaning back on the large pillow behind her head. “Thanks,” she managed to sleepily mumble.
“I’m so sorry, Allie,” he softly muttered, his face dipped toward the bed. He slowly sat down, running a hand through his light brown hair, which was sticking up awkwardly at the back. “I...I...” he stuttered, obviously wanting to say something, but seemingly unable to find the words.
“It’s not your fault,” she replied, shaking her head as best she could with a limited reserve of energy. “I should never have started seeing you again.”
“No,” he instantly responded, the word blurting from his lips more forcefully than he’d intended. “No,” he repeated in a softer tone. “I’m not sorry about that, and you shouldn’t be either.”
“Then what are you sorry about?” she asked.
Reece’s stubble covered jaw fell slack and he silently shook his head. Again, his eyes snapped to the bedding, while he clutched the paper cup tightly between his thighs. “I lied to the doctors,” he said slowly. “They wouldn’t let me stay with you, so I told them I was your fiancé.”
Unbidden, a small smile quirked at Allie’s lips. “That’s okay,” she drowsily assured him. “When can I get out of here?” she added, the question belied by the fact that she was nestling against the pillows cozily.
“They...umm,” Reece continued, ignoring her query in favor of explaining his apology. “Because I said what I said, they told me how you’re doing,” he stated rapidly, as though he were taking the band aid approach; ripping it off as quickly as possible.
“And how am I doing?” Allie asked calmly, as if the reply was actually inconsequential to her.
“Umm,” Reece hesitated, a desire to be honest with her warring with his drive to protect her. “Not so good,” he admitted weakly. He twisted sharply as the door swung open. Breathing a sigh that he hoped didn’t sound too much like relief, Reece nodded amiably at a man in a dress shirt and white lab coat.
Allie’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the door and she peered warily at the man at the foot of the bed.
“Ms. McLaren,” the doctor greeted her with a smile. “I’m Dr. Luitger.”
Allie guessed the man to be in his late forties, he was starting to gray around the temples, but had a deceptively babyish face. He stood at around six feet and wore blue jeans beneath his lab coat, something she would have liked in a doctor; but at that moment she couldn’t stand doctors of any description. She gave him a noncommittal grunt and a curt nod.
“It’s good to see you awake,” Dr. Luitger continued. “How are you feeling?”
“You tell me,” Allie quipped in return.
“Well, we’ve given you some fluids,” he responded, remaining calm in the face of her annoyance. “You should be feeling a little better than before.”
“I guess so,” she conceded, shuffling to sit upright. She hadn’t minded seeming vulnerable in front of Reece; after all, he’d known her since she was fifteen, there was very little he hadn’t already seen. The doctor, however, was a stranger, and Allie could never allow him to see her weakness. Giving herself a mental slap around the face, she demanded her body remain alert.
The doctor slipped a hand in his pocket as he watched her sit up straight in the bed. “That’s good,” he acknowledged with a sincere smile. “But it’s not all good news, I’m afraid.”
“Look, I know,” she blurted, cutting him off before he could get started. “I’m ill and I’m going to die. Guess what, it’s going to happen to all of us one day, doc!”
Jutting out his jaw, the doctor scraped his upper lip with his bottom teeth while casting a glance toward Reece.
The shared look of concern did not escape Allie. “What?” she insisted.
“Ms. McLaren,” Dr. Luitger began, tipping his head to the right sympathetically. Allie knew that look and she hated it even more than she hated the doctors who gave it. “We’ve run a lot of tests and it seems your cancer is progressing faster than we would have expected.”
“What does that mean?” Allie blurted, firing the question at him, as though he were a shady politician trying to double talk his way out of something. “Just tell me what’s going on,” she urged, staring first at the doctor and then turning her gaze to Reece. He, however, could not hold eye contact with her.
“You’re getting sicker,” the doctor replied honestly. “And I would highly recommend that you stay here. We can start you on a robust course of radiotherapy-”
“And that will cure me?” Allie asked sarcastically, knowing the answer.
“The truth?” the doctor replied, recognizing in her eyes that she was not one to be bullshitted. “No, probably not. But there’s a chance,” he added assertively.
Allie shook her head defiantly, while her right hand moved swiftly to the IV in her opposite arm and began pulling the needle from her skin.
“What are you doing?” Reece snapped, leaping to his feet in an attempt to stop her.
“You really should stay here,” the doctor chimed in. “We can-”
“You can what?” Allie yelled. “You can prolong things? You can make sure that I spend my last days in a hospital? I don’t think so.” Ignoring Reece’s pleas and the doctor’s advice, she yanked the tubes away from her arm and tossed them aside. Then, she pulled the covers back from the bed and began to slide out of it.
“Aren’t you at least going to listen to him?” Reece argued. “Don’t you want to know what your options are?”
“I know what my options are,” she muttered darkly, as she fought with the scratchy gown in an attempt to keep herself covered as she slid off the tall bed. Keeping her back to the two men, she also held one hand bunching the gown at her buttocks. “Do you know how long?” she asked, looking up into the doctor’s green eyes.
He fiddled with the edge of his coat, considering the question. “It’s impossible to be exact about these things but, if it continues to advance as it has, I’d say you’ve got a few months.” He was frank, direct – exactly what Allie had asked for. He’d believed the young woman in his care was simply in denial and hoped that learning the cold hard facts would cause her to reconsider her rash actions. However, those thoughts were quickly wiped from his mind, when he saw her give a nod of acceptance.
“Right,” she said. “Well, thank you,” she added, already moving once more. Sidestepping, so she could keep her naked bottom away from the doctor’s view, she wandered barefoot across the cold, hard tiles. “Could you get my things together?” she asked, turning her face to Reece, as she pushed her back up against the tiny bathroom door.
Exasperated, Reece moved across the floor in three large strides. He stood not more than an inch from her and tipped his face to hers. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” he whispered. “You can’t just walk out of here, Allie,” he continued not waiting for an answer to his question. “You’re really si
ck, this is serious and you’d be stupid to leave this hospital.”
“Then I suppose I’m stupid,” she shrugged, emphasizing the final word as she shoved on the door, stepped into the bathroom and quickly slammed the door behind her.
Reece could only look at the white panel in disbelief. With a grunt of frustration, he lifted his palm and slapped the wall just to the right of the door frame. “Damn it,” he exhaled sharply. “Can’t you do something?” he said, suddenly tuning his anger at the doctor. Spinning on his heels he stared hard at the man.
Dr. Luitger scoffed slightly, an incredulous rather than amused sound. “What do you expect me to do, Mr. Bardell?” he wondered aloud. “I cannot keep a patient here against her will and I can’t force treatment upon her.”
“She’s going to die if you don’t help her,” Reece said, his voice hushed, but his words no less demanding.
“I realize this is distressing for you,” the doctor replied, shaking his head resignedly. “But this is your fiancée’s decision. There’s nothing more I can do,” he stated matter-of-factly, as he moved toward the door. “But if she does change her mind,” he added, turning at the threshold. “You know where to find us.”
A look of steely determination descended on Reece’s usually soft features. “She will change her mind.” The words were spoken with conviction. In his head, there was no room for debate within that statement. “She will change her mind,” he echoed, as he watched the doctor turn his back and walk away.
CHAPTER TWO
LEAVE
Allie had been very quiet on the journey home. The expression on her face left Reece in no doubt that she was deep in thought, and he hoped that she was reconsidering the possibility of treatment. So, he took her silence as a positive sign; an indication that he wouldn’t have to do much to persuade her to go back to the hospital. However, as he wandered lethargically into her apartment, struggling to lift his feet and keep his eyes open, he was amazed to find her moving around the room with a flurry of energy.
