“What?” I stammer. “When? What did she say?”
“When you wouldn’t let me in. You and I aren’t a secret any longer, Celeste. You can’t hide what or who we are.”
“We’re nothing,” I snap. “I shouldn’t have invited you here at all. Last night was a mistake.”
“Oh no. I don’t think so, Celeste. Think hard.” His eyes sear into me. “Remember what you said.”
“Nothing other than I wanted to fuck, and you, for some insane reason, wouldn’t do it.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Try again, dearest.” He fills the endearment with such obvious scorn. “Right before you fell asleep. Or were you too drunk to remember even that?”
I think hard… and my heart stops. I remember the exact moment, the precise words.
I’m afraid I might lose you.
Something in my expression shifts, because James notices the change. “Ah,” he says, triumphantly, “you remember.”
I screw my face up at him. “It didn’t mean anything, James. I was drunk…”
“Despite your stalwart conviction that you were not, last night?” He steps toward me, tall and menacing. “I think not, Celeste.”
“You don’t know me,” I counter. “You think you do, but you fucking don’t.”
“Because you won’t let me in!” he shouts.
I shy back. He’s never raised his voice like that with me before.
“Look.” He rubs the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Dammit, Celeste, you bring out this side of me. You try to fight it, and I don’t fucking know why. You try to resist, but I know, deep down, that you want this as much as I do.” He takes my hands.
I try to pull free. He doesn’t let go.
“Stop struggling,” he says. “Don’t deny the inevitable. Whatever it is you’re so afraid of, we’ll face it together. I’ll face it together with you. It’s scary, yes, even I can admit that. What started off as purely physical has transcended into something so much more.”
He squeezes my hands. “Don’t lie about it! I can see it in your eyes. I can see you’re longing to let me in. I don’t know who screwed you up before to make you so resistant to the idea. But if you show me who you are, Celeste, I’ll treasure it. I’ll treasure you. We need to be together. The spark, the fire, the chemistry between us –you can’t make it up. It’s too strong. I feel it. I know you feel it too. So just—” he grunts, “—just please, Celeste. Work with me. Let me see that beautiful, guarded side of you that you shield from the world.” He touches my cheek. “Let me see who you really are.
“Let me prove that I love you.”
Those words break me.
His compassion, his intensity, his unwavering belief that there is someone good in me is too much. He sees me as some ideal representation of his perfect woman. He’s blind to flaws, my scars, my innate inability to love. He’s blind to who I am.
It makes me angry.
I rip away from him. “Fine,” I yell. “Fine, James. You want to see me? I’ll show you. I’ll fucking show you right now.” I give him a harsh spin on my heel. “You know my body, it’s all you see. Right? Right! Don’t tell me there’s anything more, James, when you don’t fucking know what’s inside.” I sear a finger to my chest. “I’m not your dream fucking girl. I’m nobody. I’m nobody to you, James, and that’s all I ever fucking wanted to be!”
Hysteria has got its grip on me.
“But you won’t let up. You think you can convince me to give you more. To show you more, that’s what you want, right? RIGHT?”
“Yes,” he says softly.
I sneer at him. “Then you’ll see how wrong you really are.”
I storm to my closet. I don’t look to see if he follows.
I get there and start ripping through my things. Searching for the hidden container in the very bottom corner. I fling clothes out over my back wildly, like a mad woman.
But I am mad. I’m fucking furious, and I’m tired of playing games. I have to get rid of James once and for all.
I find the small baggie. I stand up and shove it in his face. “Here!” I yell. “Here, look inside, and see who I fucking am!”
James’s expression falters. He reaches in… and pulls out one of my prescription pill containers.
“See?” I scream at him. “Do you fucking see now, James? Do you understand?”
He reads the label. “Temozolomide,” he says.
“That’s right! Do you know what that is James? Huh? Do you? I’ll tell you!” I slam the door shut so Summer doesn’t hear. But even if she does, I’m beyond the point of caring.
I turn on him. “It’s a chemotherapy drug, James. I have cancer. Ta-dah! A big old tumor right in my fucking head!” I point a finger at my skull. “In there, James. Inside. I’m not going to make it. The doc tells me otherwise, but I fucking know. I looked the shit up. It’s terminal, James, okay? It’s… it’s fucking terminal.”
I start to cry.
“Do you understand now? You say you love me. Well if you do, you’re in love with a fucking grenade. I’m a ticking time bomb. When I go, there’s going to be shrapnel everywhere. So you can’t love me. You can’t! When I die –when, not if, James, WHEN!—there’ll be nothing left. I’m going to shatter you. I’m going to break you completely. You don’t know—“ I start to really bawl now, “—you don’t know what it’s like to love someone like that and lose them.
“But I do. My mom died like that. And you—you can’t know! You can’t know what it’s like to hide it from everybody. Day in and day out, I try to act like everything is normal. I try to act like I’m all right. But I’m not. The cancer is killing me, James. Those drugs, the ones you’re holding? They’re just delaying the inevitable. You think you see me? You think you know me? Look at my fucking hair!”
I grab it and shove it at him. “Look how thin it is! It’s falling out! And even if this tumor doesn’t kill me, the next one will. My body is primed for cancer, James. I’ve had it three times! It’ll give out one day, right out of the blue. The disease is going to progress, and it’s going to get worse, and nobody will be able to do a goddamn thing!
“And nobody knows, James. Nobody knows about it, except the doctors, except me, and now, YOU!”
My head is spinning. My blood pressure’s high. I’m shaking, trembling all over. And I’m absolutely helpless to stop the onslaught of words pouring out of me. I’m terrified.
“Except for you, except for you, except for you,” I repeat, like a crazed woman veering on the edge of sanity. “Nobody does, nobody can, and you know why. So go. Leave. Don’t let me break you. GO!” I scream. “LEAVE ME ALONE! FORGET ME! JUST FUCKING LEAVE!”
And then I completely break down. I fall to the floor, pull my knees up, and cry harder than I’ve ever cried in my life.
I wait for the inevitable words from James. I wait for him to say something—anything—but he does not.
There’s only silence.
Then, the door opens and closes. I look up.
He’s gone.
Something horrible tears through me. It rips me open right down the middle. The confirmation of my greatest fear, and the cause of all my heartache.
James left, just like Brad did.
He abandoned me. He abandoned me like I knew he would. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, because his love was false!
I cry even harder for confirmation of that fact.
Opposing thoughts war in my mind:
Idiot, idiot, idiot, one side of my conscious screams.
It’s countered by: You knew this would happen. This is exactly what you were after.
I try to compose myself but fail. James is gone, he’s never coming back. It’s really over.
The finality of it makes it hard to breathe.
I cry and cry and cry and cry.
Somewhere from the depths of my despair I register the door opening. It’s probably Summer coming in to check on me. She would have heard the argument.
But I’m a coward. I don’t want to see her now, don’t want to hear her words.
So I cower tighter in my little ball on the floor and cry harder still.
Firm hands collect me. They take me by the shoulders. I’m being pulled into a warm body. Someone holds me tight.
I blink through the confusion and look up, expecting to see Summer—
And find James.
“Here,” he says softly. He puts a box of tissues in my hands. “I got you these.”
I blink some more. My brain can’t piece things together like it should.
“What are you doing here…?”
“Shh.” James silences me by pulling my body into his. “Shh. Don’t say anything. Let it all out. I’m here for you, baby, whenever you’re ready.”
I can hardly believe his words. He didn’t leave?
I’m dabbing at my eyes without realizing it. James holds me. In his arms, I feel safe. In his arms, I feel secure. In his arms, I feel a little bit less broken.
In his hands, I feel…
Loved?
At some point the tears stop. My racing heart slows. My shallow breaths and sobs normalize.
Through it all, James remains with me.
Eventually, I feel like the worst of my breakdown is over. I’m ready to get up… but I’m not ready for him to let me go.
So I cling on to James just a little bit tighter.
He strokes my hair. I can’t believe how badly I’d miscalculated. I thought he’d left me. But he never did. Even in our time apart, I was always in his thoughts.
I turn my head and look at him. His steady eyes meet mine. They let me know he meant every word he said.
“Why?” I manage.
He smiles and presses his forehead to mine.
“Because I love you,” he whispers.
4.
We spend the entire rest of the day making love. It’s not just fucking any more.
Now, every touch feels special. Every caress feels brand new. My eyes are opened to a world of pleasure I’ve never experienced before.
One with feelings attached.
I snuggle up to him in my tiny, twin-sized bed. It feels like a yoga mat compared to the enormous California King in his apartment.
And yet, it provided the grounds for the best sex of my life.
Everything we’d done up to this point had been communicated without words. But now feels like the right time to speak.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
James touches my shoulder. He trails a finger down the length of my arm then flips my hand over and links our fingers together. “Don’t be,” he replies.
I give a happy, a ridiculously happy, an absolutely blissful smile. Just the sound of his voice fills me with joy.
“I thought you were going to ask what I’m sorry for,” I mumble.
He just shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, Celeste. Everything we’ve gone through, everything we’ve endured has ended in us getting to this…” he kisses my collarbone, “…exact…” another kiss, “…point.”
Guilt still rears its ugly head. “But I shouldn’t have lied,” I say.
“You were frightened,” James says. “You had every right to lie.”
“But I lied to you,” I insist. “I lied to myself too, when I denied that I was falling for you.”
His eyebrows go up. He gives something very much like a satisfied smirk. “When did you start this… denial?” he asks coyly.
“Oh no,” I tease. “Now you’re just looking for an ego boost. You don’t need me giving you a big head.”
He chuckles. “You’re so cute when you’re convinced of something.”
Then sadness fills me that this can only be temporary. “We won’t last, you know,” I whisper. “I’m going to die, sooner or later.”
“We’re all going to die sooner or later,” James says. “Wouldn’t you rather have love in your life while you’re here than go through it all not knowing that most precious feeling?”
“I can’t believe you’re real,” I say.
“I’m real, baby. And I’m all yours.”
“For however long we have left,” I tack on.
He frowns. “Celeste. Remember when I said I wouldn’t let you go? That I would keep fighting to reel you in?”
“Yes,” I admit.
“Did I do that?”
“You did exactly that,” I smile.
“And there’s no way in hell I’m going to stop now. I looked up the drugs they gave you while you slept. If you were terminal, they would not have been dispensed. Hell, you’d probably be on pain killers or nothing at all. Now tell me, where did you get the idea that you are going to die?”
“Well, you just said it,” I tell him. “We all die one day. My day is just much, much closer than yours.”
“You’re not answering me,” he growls.
I sigh. “Fine. Nobody told me, James. When the doctor found the tumor, he gave me fifty-fifty odds. A coin flip. That’s my life.” I look to the ceiling. “It’s spinning right now, somewhere up there, high in the air, but sooner or later it’s going to land. And I have no control over which side shows.”
“So you’re not terminal,” James clarifies. “Terminal means one-hundred-percent chance of death.”
“No,” I exhale again. “I guess, by that definition, I’m not. But I might as well be, James. Between that and my shitty heart from the last operation…” I look down. “Well, I already have experience with my mom.”
“Tell me about her,” James presses.
I turn my back to him. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I want to know about you,” he murmurs.
I exhale and tell him all he wants.
When I finish, he officially knows more about me and my fears, me and my problems, than any other person on earth.
“I’m sorry you faced that alone,” he says. He edges his body tighter to mine. “But you are not your mother, Celeste. Her fate does not determine yours.”
“Maybe not. But with all the crap my body’s endured, can it really be expected to be any better?”
“Yes,” James says. His voice is full of conviction. “Yes it can. It will, Celeste. You’re not alone anymore. I meant it when I said I would fight for you. You think I’m going to let up in the face of anything you’ve told me? No. I’m just going to do it so much harder. You’re not alone, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner we can get on to fixing your mind about the way you’re approaching this disease.”
“You’re saying that as if my attitude matters. James, I’m taking the drugs. I’m not being irresponsible. The reality truly is that it’s out of my hands.”
“Not true,” he insists. “There’s a difference. You have something solid to live for. You’re not just going through the motions. And I’m not leaving you alone. You go to your weekend chemotherapy session, and I’ll be right there beside you.”
“James, no,” I say. “I can’t ask you to take away from your busy life just for that. I’ve managed fine by myself. I don’t need you to waste hours each weekend just being with me.”
“Being with you is never a waste of time,” James says. “I promise, Celeste.” He takes my hand again. “I want to extract every second of time I can with you. But…” he hedges, “But I can understand if you really don’t want me there, for your own reasons.”
I consider it for a long moment. Then, “I don’t. It’s depressing and sterile and boring. I can face it because I’ve done it before. I’m already so used to it. Time with you should be spent on activities we both enjoy. I only want it to be associated with happiness. Nothing else.”
He brings my hand back over my body and places it on his growing cock. “And would fucking be considered an activity we both enjoy?” he asks, his tone aggressive.
I grab him, turn around, and start to stroke. “Oh yes,” I say. “Fucking is definitely something we both enjoy.”
***
At night, when we finally emerge
from the bedroom, there’s no sign of Summer.
“I think she left when she heard us arguing,” James says.
“You want something to eat?” I ask. “We don’t keep much, but there’s some bologna in the fridge…” I trail off when I open the door, and frown. “No wait. No there’s not. It was here last night. Weird. I guess Summer threw it out.”
I swing it closed.
“Let’s go out to eat,” James says. “Get dressed. I’ll take you.”
I put my hip out and raise an eyebrow at him. “James Landon. Are you actually asking me out on a second date?”
He laughs and pulls me into his arms. “Most definitely, Ms. Adams. There’s no more uncertainty. We’re dating. You are my girlfriend now.”
I flush red with pride. “It seems we’re doing this backward,” I quip. “We fuck, I move out, and only then do you make me your girlfriend.”
He kisses me. “You’ve got that right.”
***
I take a quick shower by myself while James waits for me. It’s late, but it’s also a Friday night. The perfect opportunity to have our first real date.
I check my phone when I emerge. I only have a towel tucked over my boobs.
There’s a single text from Summer.
Summer: Got him back for ya! Tell me when it’s safe to return :)
A sinking feeling forms in my gut. That text is from hours ago.
Frantically, I text back.
Me: Summer! What did you do?
I pace around the room while I wait for her answer. James pokes his head in. “You’re taking a while.”
“Can’t decide what to wear,” I say quickly, all the while clutching my phone in one hand.
“Just go like that,” James suggests, smirking. “A pair of black stilettos on your feet and you’d be killer.”
“Oh, get out of here,” I tease, shoving him out the room.
Still no word from Summer, however. I try calling but she doesn’t pick up.
I guess I won’t learn what she meant until later.
***
James and I take the stairs down. He said he’d parked on a nearby street.
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 145
