Always You (Love Hurts 1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dalton

I paced the bedroom with my hands on my head, waiting for her to call. Or text. Anything. God, I was such an idiot. Her finding this out was bad enough, but to not hear it from me? That was worse. So much worse.

“Fuck!” I kicked the wall, instantly regretting it as a large hole appeared, about the size of my shoe. I watched as little fragments of plaster fell away to the floor. See, this was why I’d avoided relationships. How could you plan your future when you might not have one?

We found out my dad had Huntington’s when I was four. The fact that he had it meant one of his parents would have also had it. His being adopted at age one meant the genetic risk was not identified until it was too late.

Dad was forty-two when he was diagnosed with the disease, and fifty-three when he died. His diagnosis was the reason they’d decided not to have any more children. His progression had been fast, much faster than usual, but the speed of progression was also a genetic factor. Did it mean I would develop symptoms earlier and faster? Possibly.

Basically, when it boiled down to it, if I did have the mutation, there was a fifty percent chance that I would display symptoms by the age of forty. A simple little test could potentially tell me with one hundred percent accuracy whether I had the disease or not. But was that something I wanted to know?

Until now, not knowing had been better than finding out I had it. Not knowing gave me hope. But now it wasn’t just me; I had to think of Wrenn. If she even still wanted to be with me.

I picked up my phone and dialed Mom, needing her advice. She had been trying to get me to have the test for years, without success. She would want to know why I’d suddenly changed my mind.

“Dalton.” She sounded surprised to hear from me.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to relieve some of the tension from the last few days. “How are you?”

“Good. Is something wrong? You sound upset.”

“No, everything is fine. I’ve just been thinking . . . I think I want to get tested.” Mom was silent. I waited a moment to let my words sink in before the barrage of questions started.

“What’s brought this on?” she asked. “I’m glad you’ve decided to find out, but you’ve always been so adamant about not being tested.”

“I know, but things have changed. I need to know, one way or the other. I need to live, Mom. I can’t keep waiting for something that might not happen. No matter how much I try and push it away, it’s always there, eating at me.”

“I’ll call Dr. Martin and arrange it,” Mom said, referencing the doctor who’d cared for Dad while he was alive. Apparently, he was one of the top Huntington’s specialists in the country.

“Okay. Thanks, Mom.” I felt a sense of relief. I was one step closer to knowing my fate. After I ended the call, I tried Wrenn again. I nearly fainted when Kass answered.

“Dalton.” She sounded tired.

“Kassia. Is Wrenn there? Will she speak to me?” I asked, trying to keep the sheer desperation out of my voice.

“Look, we’re at her aunt’s holiday house. 430 The Boulevard, Cinter Beach. If you come down, I’ll disappear for a few hours.”

“God, thank you Kassia. I’m on my way.”

***

I knocked on the door to the beach house, still unsure of my game plan.

An hour in the car, and I still had nothing. Really, what was there to say? I could apologize all day for not telling her, but I knew deep down that wasn’t the real issue.

Kass opened the door. She smiled and let me in. “She’s in the living room, down the end and to the right.” She slipped out the door, shutting it behind her.

I walked down the hallway of the huge house. Everything was so perfect, so new—it was like a display home. And strangely, it was all so familiar. I felt like I had been there before.

Wrenn was curled up on the sofa, facing away from me. I edged closer, my heart racing. The TV was on low. She turned around, her eyes wide, shocked at the sight of me. I thought I saw a glimmer of a smile, but as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Emotion after emotion swept through her eyes: shock, happiness, sorrow, and then confusion.

“You’re here,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Let me guess. Kass?”

I nodded, and walked around the sofa.

She sat up, allowing me to sit down next to her. I put my hand on her thigh, over her faded jeans. She wore an old blue sweatshirt, and her hair was tangled and unbrushed, tied up in a pony tail. Regardless, she looked beautiful.